


Turnabout Everlasting

by JordanPhoenix



Series: Ace Attorney: Turnabout Lawful Lust [5]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, 大逆転裁判 | Dai Gyakuten Saiban, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Actual Phoenix Phoenix Wright, Angst and Drama, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Broken Engagement, Bromance, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Related, Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Courtroom Drama, Declarations Of Love, Disbarred Phoenix Wright, Dorks in Love, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, During Canon, Engagement, Epic Bromance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Fanfiction Comedy (MICF), Feels, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, French Kissing, Gen, Gyakuten Saiban 2 | Justice For All Spoilers, Gyakuten Saiban 3 | Trials and Tribulations Spoilers, Gyakuten Saiban 4 | Apollo Justice Spoilers, Gyakuten Saiban 6 | Spirit of Justice Spoilers, Het and Slash, Hobo Phoenix Wright, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Miles Edgeworth Needs a Hug, Neck Kissing, Past Dahlia Hawthorne/Phoenix Wright, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Gyakuten Kenji 2 | Ace Attorney Investigations 2, Post-Gyakuten Kenji | Ace Attorney Investigations, Post-Gyakuten Saiban 5 | Dual Destinies, Pre-Gyakuten Saiban 4 | Apollo Justice, Pre-Gyakuten Saiban 5 | Dual Destinies, Pre-The Trials of Apollo, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Same-Sex Marriage, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Sister-Sister Relationship, Slash, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Surprise Kissing, Teenage Drama, Tragedy/Comedy, True Love, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 128
Words: 661,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JordanPhoenix/pseuds/JordanPhoenix
Summary: This story delves into the mystery of where the HELL Maya Fey and Miles Edgeworth were when Phoenix Wright's world collapsed around him post disbarment and WHY they weren't at his side during Phoenix's darkest hour for those long seven years. Join Phoenix, Maya, Miles, Franziska and the rest of your favourite Ace Attorney characters for nearly a decade and experience with them both their laughter and tears, as they discover life's bittersweet truths: sometimes love isn't enough to mean happily ever after, all the money in the world can't necessarily fix all tragedies, justice doesn't always prevail, and broken hearts heal...but can they ever truly mend? Follows the Ace Attorney Timeline for the most part and goes through AJ to Post DD. Slight spoilers for all games. This is the final installment of the Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy and takes place right where Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman ended. The story starts pre-Apollo Justice, right before Phoenix's disbarment. Official part 3 of the Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy.
Relationships: Aoi Daichi | Clay Terran & Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Ayame | Iris/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Ayame | Iris/Yahari Masashi | Larry Butz, Ayasato Chihiro | Mia Fey & Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Ayasato Chihiro | Mia Fey & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey/Luke Triton, Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey & Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma & Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Badou Ittetsu | Tyrell Badd & Ichijou Mikumo | Kay Faraday, Claire/Hershel Layton, Garyuu Kyouya | Klavier Gavin/Houzuki Akane | Ema Skye, Houzuki Tomoe | Lana Skye & Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Houzuki Tomoe | Lana Skye/Zaimon Kyousuke | Jake Marshall, Itonokogiri Keisuke | Dick Gumshoe/Suzuki Mako | Maggey Byrde, Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma/Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Kidzuki Kokone | Athena Cykes & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Kidzuki Kokone | Athena Cykes & Yuugami Jin | Simon Blackquill, Kouhei Yamada | Maximillion Galactica/Tachimi Rika | Regina Berry, Larry Butz & Miles Edgeworth & Phoenix Wright, Mikotoba Susato/Naruhodou Ryuunosuke, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright & Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Oyashiki Tsukasa | Katherine Hall/Shigaraki Tateyuki | Raymond Shields
Series: Ace Attorney: Turnabout Lawful Lust [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/224444
Comments: 114
Kudos: 55





	1. I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Follows the Ace Attorney Timeline for the most part and goes through AJ to Post DD. Slight spoilers for all games. This is the final installment of the Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy and takes place right where the first one ended.  
> The story starts pre-Apollo Justice, right before Phoenix's disbarment.  
> You don't HAVE to have read my Phaya story, which is part one of the series, called Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman up to this point, to follow this tale. I try very hard to make my stories act as stand-alones for the most part, with only the odd reference thrown in from the previous stories. Just note that this does pick up right where that first story ended, with Phoenix and Maya a newly established couple as of the night of her 21st birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could stay awake just to hear you breathing  
> Watch you smile while you are sleeping  
> While you're far away and dreaming  
> I could spend my life in this sweet surrender  
> I could stay lost in this moment forever  
> Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure
> 
> Don't wanna close my eyes  
> I don't wanna fall asleep  
> 'Cause I'd miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> 'Cause even when I dream of you  
> The sweetest dream would never do  
> I'd still miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> Lying close to you feeling your heart beating  
> And I'm wondering what you're dreaming  
> Wondering if it's me you're seeing  
> Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together  
> And I just wanna stay with you  
> In this moment forever, forever and ever
> 
> I don't wanna close my eyes  
> I don't wanna fall asleep  
> 'Cause I'd miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> 'Cause even when I dream of you  
> The sweetest dream would never do  
> I'd still miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> I don't wanna miss one smile  
> I don't wanna miss one kiss  
> Well, I just wanna be with you  
> Right here with you, just like this
> 
> I just wanna hold you close  
> I feel your heart so close to mine  
> And just stay here in this moment  
> For all the rest of time, yeah, yeah, yeah
> 
> Don't wanna close my eyes  
> Don't wanna fall asleep  
> 'Cause I'd miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> 'Cause even when I dream of you  
> The sweetest dream would never do  
> I'd still miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> I don't wanna close my eyes  
> I don't wanna fall asleep  
> 'Cause I'd miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> 'Cause even when I dream of you  
> The sweetest dream would never do  
> And I'd still miss you, baby  
> And I don't wanna miss a thing
> 
> Don't wanna close my eyes  
> I don't wanna fall asleep, yeah  
> I don't wanna miss a thing

**_Phoenix Wright & Maya Fey_**  
 _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
April 18, 2019, 3:30 AM

"We've got to keep quiet if we don't want to wake up Pearls, birthday girl," Phoenix mouthed against Maya's lips as they stealthily shifted back up the stairs which led to his apartment, and towards his chambers, exchanging heated kisses the entire way.

Once they had arrived at their destination, he carefully closed the door as silently possible behind them and walked towards her. The bedroom was cloaked in complete darkness, except for a brightened translucent shadow where Maya stood by the bed, from the sliver of the moon streaming through the partially closed blinds. His heart pounded in his chest as he drank in the sight of her. Bathed in the moonlight, her alabaster skin appeared to be glowing against the glimmering sequins of her red mini dress. She was absolutely breathtaking. And she was all his.

Maya looked over at him shyly. Even though she knew this was what she so desperately longed for, it was all still strange and foreign territory for her, and she was uncertain how to proceed.

Sensing her trepidation, Phoenix slowly walked over and gently pulled her to him in a warm embrace, one arm wrapped tightly around her slender waist, while with his free hand, he ran his fingers through her thick, glorious raven hair; wild waves with a few errant curls scattered throughout, hanging about her shoulders and down her back. The gesture soothed her somewhat, despite the apprehension beginning to move in a circle in her stomach, like a living creature, that his touch, his nearness had awakened.

He held her gaze as he lifted both her hands to his lips and kissed each finger one after the other.

Maya swallowed nervously, and her breaths were light again and very quick as she looked up with a mixture of excitement and anxiousness into Phoenix's handsome face. Were they really going to do this? Were they really going to make love? Was she, at long last, just hours after her 21st birthday, ready to finally surrender her virginity?

As if reading her mind, Phoenix cradled her face in his hands and looked down at her, his smile soft and almost teasing. "Tell me, Maya, what more can I do to ease you?"

She should be thinking of him. After all, he had already shown remarkable self-control these past four years, waiting for her, and even up until that moment had shown nothing but pure gentlemanly restraint. "Kiss me," she whispered.

Phoenix didn't wait for any further invitation but swept the few inches of his extraordinary height down to meet her lips in a searing kiss. This time, he was not gentle. She leaned against his hard chest and slung an arm around his neck, feeling his familiar soft spiky hair against her skin, and she took what he gave and gave more in return until he released her with a groan.

Her lips parted. Her breath flowed toward him, her familiar fresh, vanilla scent intoxicating his senses. Shivers chased over his body. What she could do to him!

She was killing him so sweetly. Did she know how she affected him? That her gaze never strayed told him she did this time. She had driven him to near madness all these years that he had ached for her, and all, no doubt, without the smallest awareness of the effect. This he knew to be so very true about her—she had no guile and he loved her for that.

His tongue flicked against the seam of her lips as they parted for him, eager for more of this rapturously sensual, erotic experience. He tasted of grape juice and spice, his tongue was talented but willing to yield to her own explorations, and somehow, without her realizing, they'd stepped into each other's arms. He plunged his hands through her silky hair, holding her head at the angle he wanted, her arms circling his powerful torso as she explored the muscular lines of his back. The fronts of their bodies were plastered together.

Standing in the cage of his arms, inhaling his intoxicating masculine blend of citrus and sandalwood, a hot surge of need and anticipation rushed through Maya. Despite his initial hesitation from the first time he'd kissed her that evening, Phoenix was now complete virile confidence personified. His skilled lips and strong hands gave off crazy energy, making her crave his touch with an insatiable hunger that belied any she'd ever felt, for even the juiciest of burgers.

His lips brushed hers, soft but not the least bit tentative. Leisurely, yet not casual. Almost chaste, yet definitely not innocent. His touch was skilled, deliberate, as he traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue, nibbled and sucked her bottom lip. Small caresses, yet each brushed fire across her skin, darting arousal through her body, making her tremble.

They undressed each other between kisses, murmuring words of love to one another as they found themselves toppling back onto the bed, his lips never leaving hers as she writhed beneath him.

It was as if her flesh became something other than skin. It grew so alive it leaped out of her control, rubbed itself against his body, her hip pressing against his, her hands touching, searching, stroking, seeking out the bones and planes of his strong back, his flat, wide shoulder blades, his strong arms, the firmness of his rear. Her lips opened to his and the unexpected sensation of their tongues entwining sent such a shiver of delicious shock through her body that it made him stop, lift his head, and gaze at her with concern.

"My love," he breathed. "Tell me this is what you want."

Maya looked up into Phoenix's handsome face, his flushed complexion, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, his throat, his chest, his eyes very bright. She intrinsically knew the loving expression she saw would never waver, even if she halted things even though they'd already gone this far.

Because he loved her that much.

_You're not just my friend you're my love. You're not just my love you're my heart. You're not just my heart you are my life. You're not just my life. You're my everything."_

And it was because she loved him back, with every fiber of her being, that she knew her answer.

"I want your weight on top of me more than I've ever wanted something in my whole life, Nick. I want to be connected body and soul with you more than anything in the world, here and now, on this bed, at this moment. I just beg of you, don't stop. I want to be your woman, and _only_ yours. Make me yours. Please."

His embrace wandered, caressing her boldly. She moved into his touch even while the path of his hands startled her. Over her stomach and bottom, he pressed and claimed all of her. His touch moved more shockingly, teasingly along, down to her thighs, venturing to the pulse that both maddened and pleasured her.

And suddenly he was above her, his lips kissing her eyelids until she opened them and found his dark sapphire gaze looking down on her with an expression so tender and so full of longing that she knew she would carry it with her till her dying day. His mouth moved voraciously against her own.

Lifting himself over her, he, at last, did as she'd yearned him to, and made her his. During their whole union, they held on to each other as if the world would burst apart if they let go.

Only then did Phoenix lift his gaze to her face and saw the tears trickling from Maya's eyes. Only then, did he realize his own eyes were wet as well.

There was great beauty in being joined with your soulmate. Simultaneously, they both cried out as they soared over the edge and all the way to the far side of paradise together.

Even in the aftermath, he wouldn't let go. Rolling to his side, he brought her with him, kissing her with untamed joy.

As she drifted down from the heights of ecstasy, she whispered, "Nick, I never knew... I never knew."

Her mouth was open in an awed beam, fueled by satiated bliss.

She was suddenly aware of how few clothes she wore and that the room was cool. She covered her chest with her arms.

He held out his arm and a moment later a blanket appeared. He wrapped her up so that she felt warm and safe. He held the front together with his hands. He kissed her temple and made sure the blanket was tucked all about her, then warmed her body with his own, pulling her against him and tucking his chin on top of her head. She stretched, slowly lowered her head to the warm pillow of his broad chest and closed her eyes, the smile lingering about her lovely lips.

He was so very attentive, in every respect, and her heart reached for him, an almost physical leap in his direction. Would it be so very bad to make a life with this man?

 _Not at all_.

Maya snuggled up next to her soulmate and fell fast asleep, secure in her love.

* * *

The following night, the spirit medium couldn't sleep. It was beyond vexing, as she had to catch the early morning train back to Kurain and was then required to attend a fortnight of spiritual training at a remote retreat atop Mount Koya in Japan. She felt unbelievably restless, and couldn't shake the inexplicable aura of foreboding unfolding within her, although she couldn't understand why. Nick, to be fair, had done all he could to ensure she would sleep soundly … and _then_ some!

Maya blushed slightly, remembering just how vigorously her boyfriend had tried to ensure she was knocked out as heavily as he was, but for some reason, she just couldn't visit Mr. Sandman as readily as he had. Her mind was filled with bizarre foreshadows of impending doom, no matter how hard she tried to reassure herself that she was being ridiculous; that she was blithely lying next to the love of her life, the ever indomitable hero, who always had and would continually ensure no harm would ever befall her.

She looked over at her lover. With his eyes closed so that his long lashes nearly swept his cheeks, Phoenix resembled an ethereal cherub in sleep. But she didn't hear him snoring, as usual, so she couldn't help but be suspicious. Was he really asleep? She managed to lift her arm and touch his shoulder. He stirred and turned his head so his face pressed into the curve of her neck.

"God," he muttered, his voice muffled. "That's the first time I've ever come twice with one hard-on. It damn near killed me."

Stifling back a laugh so as not to awaken her cousin sleeping in the next room, Maya idly ran her fingers over his spiky hair.

"We can't have that," she soothed, although her voice was tinged with laughter. "Now, I want to see you in bed."

"I thought that's where I was," he mumbled drowsily.

Maya lightly swatted at his shoulder. "Now, stop that, funny man! Asleep. I want you to sleep."

A sigh flowed out of his chest. "I think I could, as long as you were with me."

She knew that he'd been rushed into taking a last-minute case, and had spent most of that day playing poker with his new client, Shadi Enigmar, while she and Pearly had visited with Gumshoe and Maggey until he'd returned. Maya also felt guilty that she and Pearly's unexpected extended Sunday night sleepover that night meant that he'd had little time to make provisions for the case, as they had monopolized his evening. Phoenix was obviously feeling some sort of anxiety as well, since he too, was still awake.

"I know me staying here tonight didn't give you a lot of time to prepare, Nick, but rest assured, I know you'll be great, as always."

Despite her misgivings, this she could give him, just a little peace of mind so that he could sleep.

"Hold me," Phoenix mumbled sleepily, turning over and pulling her against him so she was nuzzled against his chest. Maya obliged, wrapping an around his warm bare shoulder, and it seemed to do the trick; moments later she heard the peaceful, deep breathing of slumber. Finally, ignoring the unease within her, lulled by the rhythmic beat of his heart, eventually, she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aerosmith – I Don't Want To Miss A Thing


	2. Reality Bites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little more time is all we're asking for  
> 'Cause just a little more time could open closing doors  
> Just a little uncertainty can bring you down
> 
> And nobody wants to know you now  
> And nobody wants to show you how
> 
> So if you're lost and on your own  
> You can never surrender  
> And if your path won't lead you home  
> You can never surrender
> 
> And when the night is cold and dark  
> You can see, you can see light  
> 'Cause no one can take away your right  
> To fight and to never surrender
> 
> With a little perseverance  
> You can get things done  
> Without the blind adherence  
> That has conquered some
> 
> And nobody wants to know you now  
> And nobody wants to show you how
> 
> So if you're lost and on your own  
> You can never surrender  
> And if your path won't lead you home  
> You can never surrender
> 
> And when the night is cold and dark  
> You can see, you can see light  
> 'Cause no one can take away your right  
> To fight and to never surrender  
> To never surrender
> 
> And when the night is cold and dark  
> You can see, you can see light  
> No one can take away your right  
> To fight and to never surrender  
> To never surrender
> 
> Oh, time is all we're asking for  
> To never surrender  
> Oh, oh, you can never surrender
> 
> The time is all you're asking for  
> Ooh stand your ground, never surrender  
> Oh, I said  
> You never surrender, oh

**_Phoenix Wright_** __  
District Court  
April 19, 2019

Despite his apt use the magatama and that one time he’d inexplicably heard Mia’s voice despite Maya not channeling her at the time, Phoenix was well aware he did not possess any actual psychic abilities. That was strictly the department of his girlfriend and the rest of the Fey Clan. He knew that if he had been given the gift of clairvoyance, he never would have thought that kissing Maya goodbye early that morning at the train station, knowing she'd be gone for a fortnight in Japan on a remote mountaintop with little or no way of contacting her, would be the most agonizing thing he would have to endure that day.

Just how wrong could a man possibly be?

The rest of reality took on a surreal irrelevance to his feverishly surging mental processes.

It was the combination of the harried dash to catch the bus to the court in the morning rush hour, coupled with the frenetic knowledge that he was so ill-prepared for this case he'd been guiltily coerced into taking at the eleventh hour, which was the cause of the discombobulated state that was Phoenix Wright that morning. As he stood behind the defense bench as the trial began its opening formalities, the previous night's occurrences came to mind only as a frenzied hyper-reality.

He frantically recalled the events of the night before when he'd met with Gramarye at the detention center. Yes, he remembered now. He'd started feeling confident somewhere along the line. It was because he'd won that poker game. That had been enough to secure his client's confidence that because he'd been able to accomplish that, he would be able to win this case.

He remembered feeling unusually anxious the night before, restlessly tossing and turning before Maya's sweet voice had soothed him to sleep, assuring him that he could do this. He'd allowed himself to believe her. Believe in himself. That against the odds, he could save the helpless Shadi Enigmar, otherwise known as acclaimed magician Zak Gramarye, and his darling little girl from destitution and starvation. Trucy had no other family – it strengthened Phoenix's resolved determination. And he was a proficient lawyer, right? His client's life was counting on him!

The… the evidence was _forged_?

Phoenix's mind was reeling. This couldn't be happening. It was too otherworldly, too hypnagogic. He felt as if the walls of the courtroom were closing in on him, surging to crush him. He remained frozen in place, unable to think. Unable to move. Unable to breathe.

He was the defense attorney who had no rebuttal for himself against Gavin's witness and was capable of no reaction other than stupefaction as Zak suddenly vanished into thin air, in a real-life illusionist act, as his final curtain call.

The brilliantly harsh hues began to dull, replaced with a steadily greying atmosphere and an intense feeling of nausea. The room appeared to be spinning. He took shallow breaths through his mouth to avoid vomiting right there in the courtroom.

He stood there, still in shock, throughout the proceedings as he wrestled to comprehend the revelation. The experience of finding he had presented forged evidence and its implications were so surreal that Phoenix was still finding it nearly impossible to convince himself that this was all truly happening. That it wasn't all just a terrible nightmare.

Mercifully, things wrapped up for the session relatively swiftly. Although presenting forged evidence was a criminal offense, it was not of the severity to require immediate police detention. The court allowed him to depart, pending future summons.

He had no idea how he managed to drag himself home and fall into an agitated, disturbed slumber, but when he awoke a few hours later, he still half-expected to find his queasiness and throbbing migraine abated, and that the events of the trial hadn't really happened.

Instead, he woke up to the harsh reality of his nausea being replaced by a headache that had merely increased in intensity and that an extraordinary meeting of the Bar Association Review Board would be imminently occurring.

Upon hearing their verdict, all Phoenix could manage to do was blindly stumble out and collapse in a vacant corner, devoid of even the energy to sit up from his sprawled location of the ground. His blurry eyes stared unseeingly at the wall before him, all the while desperately wishing for nothing more than that the Earth would swallow him up, that reality would cease to exist, that somehow none of this was actually true.

He had no idea how long he sat in this pitiful, drooped position, but the telling pain in his limbs jerked him back to rationality, and along with it, the horrible actuality of it all. The knowledge that if he didn't move now, he might never amass the will to do so again, along with last-ditch desperation of denial, shot a surge of adrenaline through his limbs, sending him rocketing to his feet.

_Law was my calling – my purpose in life. And a reason to live can never be a reason to die, it is an aspect driven by life so as to live and achieve._

He needed to cling to this one hope. That he could miraculously avert this disaster with the truth.

A plan, a plan, he needed some sort of plan. He had experienced so much strife in his life, countless near-death experiences, and disasters alike. He would just solve this one the same way, via an investigation. Somehow, he would find a way to prove that this wasn't true, that he didn't forge evidence. He would investigate Zak's disappearance and the crime, discover the answers to all of this and deflect this fresh hell his life had now become. But he soon reached the limits of what he could do on that route, as each supposed lead led to another dead end and he was forced to veer course.

Like a chicken with its head cut off, he ran amok in a similar fashion, roaming the streets, desperate to keep doing something, now devoid of direction. He vaguely hoped his feet would carry him away from this asphyxiating nightmare of how every bearing by which he'd set his life had collapsed without provocation. Without warning.

Eventually, a wave of sheer exhaustion overtook him, and he dragged himself back to the office and crumpled on the couch.

When he woke up again, the inescapable bleakness of it all left him incapable of movement. 27 years old – not even 30 yet – and his life, as he knew it, was over. His total existence, his whole reason for being, his entire adult _identity_ had somehow been built around the empowerment tied with being a defense attorney. He couldn't fathom what he was expected to do without it. What was he supposed to do with his life now? Going through the motions seemed pointless – for what purpose, exactly?

His phone rang several times, plummeting into his foggy haze, but Phoenix could find neither the required strength to rise and answer nor the desire to. He could be of no assistance, or even an asset, to his friends anymore. More like a liability. Associating with him would just unfairly tarnish their reputations anyway. And he could hardly expect them to keep supporting him or even to believe him.

After all, this mistake was nobody's fault but his own. Sure, he didn't forge the evidence – but he was stupid enough to present it. He had no one to blame for the situation but himself. Overwhelming guilt at tarnishing Edgeworth's image, at betraying the legacy of Mia and the desired future with Maya was literally too painful to deal with at this time, and he descended again into the trackless paralysis of worthlessness.

_Maya_.

God help him. She wouldn't want to have anything to do with him when she discovered this. All their hopes, their dreams...all a shattered illusion now. It was over before it had even begun.

He felt numb. Couldn't move. Couldn't speak if his life had depended on it. All that his agonized mind could scream, repeatedly, like a relentless, never-ending treadmill.

_I'm nothing now! I'm an abject failure! You've always believed in me but I've let you down! And I'm sorry! Maya, my love, I'm so, so sorry…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corey Hart – Never Surrender


	3. Aftershock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The road is long  
> With many a winding turn  
> That leads us to who knows where?  
> Who knows where?  
> But I'm strong  
> Strong enough to carry him  
> He ain't heavy, he's my brother
> 
> So on we go  
> His welfare is my concern  
> No burden is he to bear  
> We'll get there  
> For I know  
> He would not encumber me  
> He ain't heavy, he's my brother
> 
> If I'm laden at all  
> I'm laden with sadness  
> That everyone's heart  
> Isn't filled with the gladness  
> Of love for one another
> 
> It's a long, long road  
> From which there is no return  
> While we're on the way to there  
> Why not share?  
> And the load  
> Doesn't weigh me down at all  
> He ain't heavy, he's my brother
> 
> He's my brother  
> He ain't heavy, he's my brother

_**Miles Edgeworth**  
_ _High Prosecutor's Office_  
April 20, 2019, 9:36 AM

Miles Edgeworth prided himself on forever remaining cool, calm and collected both in the best of times and the worst. It took a lot to faze him, and even more to shake him out of the norm. It wasn't because he was the cold-hearted automaton he'd often been accused of being. It was just that, at 28, he'd been through enough woes and hardships to last several lifetimes, the death of both his parents by the tender age of nine notwithstanding.

Thus far he'd been accused of murder, kidnapped, temporarily lost his prosecutor position, and, despite his skepticisms and misgivings about spirit mediums and the occult, had become familiar with the existence of both ghosts and demon possession; two things he never could have ever even fathomed had he not been friends with Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey.

Therefore, it would have been nearly comical to witness the normally austere High Prosecutor become so completely gobsmacked when he got _the call_ from Detective Dick Gumshoe that he nearly fell off of his office chair.

Fortunately, there was nobody around at the time to see it.

_Wright has been disbarred!?_ Miles stared, dumbfounded, at the phone on his desk long after he and the detective had rung off. _I can't believe it! Wright has always had extremely unconventional, sometimes questionable courtroom methods, but… forgery?!_ Gumshoe's call offered few particulars other than to say that while the details of the murder trial were convoluted and multifaceted, ultimately, Phoenix had presented forged evidence and that the defendant, Zak Gramarye had vanished, so a retrial would not be possible.

Miles replayed the conversation he'd just had with his subordinate over and over again in his mind, wondering if this was all just a bad joke, or that he'd somehow misheard the story about the cruel misfortune his best friend had just endured. While he'd rather have heard the news straight from the horse's mouth, he could certainly understand Phoenix wanting some sort of secluded quantum of solace in the aftermath. It would certainly explain why he'd been unable to reach his friend the night before when he'd rung to convey his own sudden bulletin.

But relaying his mediocre by comparison news wasn't important right now. His mind still in a slight daze, he rose from his desk and headed to Franziska's office. For the first time in his life, the workaholic attorney decreed that work could wait. This is far more important.

Miles knocked at the door of his fiancée's office before entering, noting the presence of former Officer, now turned Court Bailiff, Mike Meekins standing before her desk, and silently nodded a curt greeting in the other man's direction.

"What do you want, fool?" Franziska asked sharply, not looking up from her paperwork. "I have work to do."

Miles cleared his throat, and she finally raised her gaze, the annoyed expression rapidly disappearing from her face and being replaced by a polite but pleasant smile at the sight of him.

"Oh, it's _you_. Good morning, Miles. I will be right with you."

Miles smirked at the characteristic, but needless showmanship Franziska tended to put on whenever other subordinates or colleagues were around. In mixed company, he was _Miles_ , rather _Liebling_ , which had been her customary way of addressing him since they'd gotten together. She now kept such terms of endearment mostly in private, and he tended to follow suit, calling her _meine Dame_ only when they were alone together.

While the two had never really talked about keeping their relationship a secret, they still kept themselves in a professional capacity for the most part. Neither of them would have lied if confronted by someone about their status, but keeping a low profile meant they were able to have more privacy, which they prized above all else. It was nice. Hell, nobody in their circle of _friends_ , aside from Phoenix and his girlfriend, had even known the two were an _item_ until this past weekend at Maya's birthday party when they'd announced their formal engagement! Consequently, most of their coworkers were still unaware of this recent development; the two had only moved back to California from Germany a few days ago and they saw no need to broadcast things unnecessarily.

Clearly, Franziska didn't feel that Meekins was a worthwhile contender to be privy to this information.

She turned her icy grey eyes back towards the timid court officer, replacing the friendly look in them with a ferocious glare as she barked, "You are dismissed, for now, you foolish fool! We shall discuss the details of your demotion later!"

"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" The overzealous young man gave his customary salute and hastily retreated towards the door, nearly clumsily tripping over his own feet in his haste to do so. "And a good day to you, Mr. Edgeworth sir!"

"Franziska – "

She held up one black-gloved hand, the other one pinching the bridge of her nose as she did so. "Wait for it…"

Both prosecutors simultaneously flinched at the same time as they heard a resounding crash outside the office and an indignant shriek from one of the paralegals amid Meekins' stammering apologies.

"You foolish fool of an _idiot!_ You just knocked over the entire filing cabinet!"

"S-sorry, sir!"

Franziska let out a quiet groan, then placed her elbows on the desk, propping her chin onto her hands as she smiled wearily at her fiancé.

" _Every. Single. Time_."

"Be nice, _meine Dame_ ," Miles chastised mildly, amused in spite of himself. "I think you intimidated the poor man."

"However so?" She demanded indignantly. "I didn't even take out my whip this time, so devoted are my efforts to keep my promise to you to minimize its use."

Miles chuckled and shook his head. "You are ever the imposing figure, Franziska Von Karma. No weaponry required. And I am sure Meekins' fall from grace, career-wise, is sufficient punishment enough. Whatever did the poor man do to get demoted from being a police officer to a court bailiff?"

" _That poor man_? That foolish, fool of a _Dummkopf_ , you mean." Franziska curled her lip in disgust. "Need I remind you, _Liebling_ , that at some point after the incident at Gatewater Land, that _dummkopf_ lost not only his case files _four times in three days_ but also _lost his badge_?"

She _had_ needed to remind him, in fact, Miles realized sheepishly. So much had occurred since the aforementioned incident he'd been in charge of investigating. From their engagement to playing co-cupids for their friends to this … _sudden hammer that had fallen_ , anything relating to the admittedly imbecilic Meekins, along with any prior events, had completely slipped his mind.

"You got me," Miles admitted with a wry grin, bowing slightly.

"So to what do I attribute this surprise but welcome interruption?" Franziska murmured sultrily. With a quick glance to make sure that the door was closed and Meekins had truly made his exit she added, "After all, we _are_ on the clock." She walked up to Miles, wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him deeply.

He indulged in the pleasure of the ever sweet sensation of her lips against his for a few glorious moments before regretfully pulling away. "Unfortunately, _meine Dame_ , I'm not here for that."

Franziska affected a fake pout, although they both knew an office liaison hadn't been the reason for his impromptu visit. They had a strict _not-while-at-work_ policy.

Well, _mostly_ strict, at any rate.

"I'm here about Wright."

She raised her eyebrow at him.

"What mess has that foolish man gotten himself into now?"

Miles sighed at the accuracy of the facetious query.

"He's been disbarred."

" _What_?" Her eyes widened in shock.

Miles nodded and walked over to sit on the black leather couch Franziska had in her office. She came and sat down beside him.

"The fool! What the hell did he do?"

He shook his head. "I don't know exactly. Gumshoe just called me and said something about Wright presenting forged evidence."

"What a foolish fool! How could he do such a foolish fool thing?"

"Well, maybe his newfound romance with Maya has made him tad lax. But regardless, I refuse to judge him until I know the whole story. The man is my friend, _meine Dame_. _Our_ friend. And he needs help."

Franziska fondled her whip. "I know _just_ what kind of help he needs! Damn foolish fool!"

Despite the lofty words, Miles knew she was as shaken by the news as he was. They both sat there in stunned silence for a while. Phoenix Wright was the only defense attorney who'd taught them anything. The spiky-haired man had helped put them in their place by forcing them to reevaluate and discover what was truly important when it came to justice and the law. He also had been the one who had made them realize that the true mission of a prosecutor should be in pursuit of the truth, and not simply getting a guilty verdict at any cost.

_Wright’s the one who instilled that value into both of us that we’re none of us, enemies, in or out of that courtroom, no matter which side we stand on. That we’re all on the same team, all seeking the truth in our quest for justice. That we should care and depend on each other and not hate one another._

Franziska put her head on his shoulder. "I can't imagine him forging evidence. Not after what Papa put him through."

Miles nodded. Manfred Von Karma, her late father, his mentor, had gone to great lengths to exact revenge on Phoenix and himself with the use of falsified evidence.

"Perhaps he was framed. I don't know. I don't even know who the prosecutor on the case was."

"Well, you'd better go clear up this foolishness, don't you think?"

Miles had not expected her to suggest this. Going to see his friend was his desired intention, of course, but Franziska didn't necessarily share his exact sentiment for the other man.

She took his hand and gazed into his eyes. "You're his friend…and I suppose…" she rolled her beautiful eyes and her lip twitched, as though resisting the urge to bare her teeth. "That I am too. You need to go see if you can help. Go to the foolish fool. I will take care of the preliminary details of the case files and keep things up to speed keep in the meantime if need be."

_She knows this is important; it's important to Wright and it's important to me._

While Franziska had mixed feelings about Phoenix, and at times appeared overly possessive about having to share her fiancé with his best friend as the one other person of any relevance in his life, she didn't show it. Miles was loathed to leave her presence at that moment. As much as he enjoyed the fiery tigress side of her that the rest of the world was also well familiar with, on the rare occasions she let the softer, kittenish part of her show, he knew it was only meant for him, and he reveled in it all the more. He barely resisted the nearly irrepressible urge to fulfill the stereotypical fantasy of locking that office door, throwing his sexy fiancée onto her desk, and making wild, passionate love to her right there and then.

Miles reluctantly rose from the couch and smiled at her adoringly. He loved her so much.

"Thank you for your support on this, _meine Dame_." His voice was filled with tenderness. "I love you."

" _Ich liebe dich auch, Liebling_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hollies – He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother


	4. One Life Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever feel like breaking down?  
> Do you ever feel out of place?  
> Like somehow you just don't belong  
> And no one understands you
> 
> Do you ever want to run away?  
> Do you lock yourself in your room?  
> With the radio on turned up so loud  
> That no one hears you screaming
> 
> No you don't know what it's like  
> When nothing feels alright  
> You don't know what it's like to be like me  
> To be hurt, to feel lost  
> To be left out in the dark  
> To be kicked when you're down  
> To feel like you've been pushed around  
> To be on the edge of breaking down  
> And no one there to save you  
> No you don't know what it's like  
> Welcome to my life
> 
> Do you want to be somebody else?  
> Are you sick of feeling so left out?  
> Are you desperate to find something more  
> Before your life is over  
> Are you stuck inside a world you hate?  
> Are you sick of everyone around?  
> With the big fake smiles and stupid lies  
> But deep inside you're bleeding
> 
> No you don't know what it's like  
> When nothing feels alright  
> You don't know what it's like to be like me  
> To be hurt  
> To feel lost  
> To be left out in the dark  
> To be kicked when you're down  
> To feel like you've been pushed around  
> To be on the edge of breaking down  
> And no one there to save you  
> No you don't know what it's like
> 
> Welcome to my life  
> No one ever lied straight to your face  
> And no one ever stabbed you in the back  
> You might think I'm happy  
> But I'm not gonna be okay  
> Everybody always gave you what you wanted  
> You never had to work it was always there  
> You don't know what it's like  
> What it's like
> 
> To be hurt  
> To feel lost  
> To be left out in the dark  
> To be kicked when you're down  
> To feel like you've been pushed around  
> To be on the edge of breaking down  
> And no one there to save you  
> No you don't know what it's like  
> What it's like
> 
> To be hurt  
> To feel lost  
> To be left out in the dark  
> To be kicked when you're down  
> To feel like you've been pushed around  
> To be on the edge of breaking down  
> And no one's there to save you  
> No you don't know what it's like
> 
> Welcome to my life  
> Welcome to my life  
> Welcome to my life

**_Phoenix Wright  
_** _Wright & Co. Law Offices  
_May 3, 2019, 7:15 AM

It had been two weeks since the fateful day the only life he'd ever known ended. Phoenix had spent them mostly burrowed under his covers and existing mostly on coffee while wallowing in self-pity. He wanted nothing to do with the outside world whatsoever. He'd even stopped reading the paper and watching the newscasts.

While headlines about the 'Forgin' Attorney' no longer were front-page news, there was still the odd mention of it here and there, and he'd even caught it as short headers flashing across the bottom of the news screens on the television set.

He'd spent the last fortnight dodging all phone calls, texts, and emails until they eventually had stopped. He'd let the mail pile up on the counter, unopened, and allowed all calls to go to voicemail. His inbox was flooded, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother answering the door whenever he'd heard the odd knock on it. He just wanted to make everybody go away. Failing that, he simply wanted to disappear.

_In life, we meet many people. Some people remain in touch and some contacts are dumped in the recycle bin of mind. We expect somethings from people in our life but sometimes those expectations remain unnoticed and incomplete. Getting depressed in such a condition is natural but if we try, we can minimize this amount off hearty hurt._

Or so he’d tried to believe at first.

But now he didn’t.

Two weeks. That had been all it had taken for his so-called friends, some of them life-long, to give up on him and move on. How long it had taken for the famously acclaimed attorney, the great Phoenix Wright, to dissipate into complete obscurity.

It was if they had never existed. As if _he_ had never existed.

There was only one person whose attempts to contact him hadn't ceased. Maya. She'd been calling and texting non-stop since the day before when she'd obviously gotten back into the country from her Japanese retreat, returned to civilization, and heard the about the scandal. But she'd only been trying for one day. If he gave her another few weeks, she'd surely fade away, just like everyone else had. After all, she was now the master of a whole village. And he…was nothing. An absolute nobody, who had nothing to offer her. She'd be better off without him. Let her find somebody more worthy of her. Best she forget all about him and allow that magical night they'd spent in each other's arms to languish away, and eventually remain as naught but a cherished memory from a lifetime ago.

A part of him knew he was being a complete bastard. She deserved more than this. She was worth way more than just being discarded away like trash, to undoubtedly feel that he had 'hit it and quit it' since the night she had given him her innocence and then never heard from him again. What kind of fortune's fool was he that he could be deserving of such a fate? One so cruel that it had allowed the love of his life to become a one-night stand?

_As if!_

He laughed humorlessly at the ludicrous notion. He'd never had a one-nighter in his entire life. Phoenix just wasn't the hookup type to simply _hit it and quit it_ with random women. He would get too nervous, or want to talk afterward ... or just want to flat out leave.

As it turned out, women kind of hated when you did that.

Hence, he had only been with maybe three or four women in his entire life, all whom he'd been in some sort of relationship with. Phoenix had never been the "love em' and leave' em" type. That manner of womanizing was more suited to his childhood friend Larry Butz, the one friend who actually hadn't deserted him. Of course, that was because he was actually away on an art tour in Europe for the next few months and was still not aware of what had happened. But give him time…and no doubt, The Butz, too, would ultimately be gone with the wind, just like a noxious cloud of flatulence that eventually obliterated.

Well, speaking of things that completely stunk, there was no use dragging things out with Maya any longer. Time to nip things in the bud. Rip the Band-Aid off quickly so it would only feel like a quick sting, instead of slowly tearing it, and prolonging the agony. He'd done so many things wrong, at least he could do this right.

He just couldn't stand to hear the hurt in her voice if he were to call her up and tell her. Could never live with himself if he had to witness tears in those beautiful eyes again because he was the cause of them. He was still taking the coward's way out by writing her a _Dear John_ , or rather, _Dear Jane_ style letter. But at least she would _know_. And it would be one less thing for him to feel guilty about.

Rising out of the bed, he rummaged through his night table and found a notepad and pen. He penned the memo quickly before he lost his nerve.

* * *

**_Dear Maya,_ **

**_I should have told you this in person, but you've probably figured it out by now—I can't see you anymore. I know this must be hard for you to believe, but I'm no longer the man you once knew. When one phoenix dies, a new phoenix is born from the ashes. That's me, Maya. The old Phoenix is dead. A new Phoenix has risen to take his place. Goodbye, Maya. We won't see each other again, and that's for the best. Take good care of Pearls._ **

**_Phoenix Wright_ **

**_P.S.  
Please take this magatama back. I can't keep it around anymore. It reminds me too much of you, and the man I used to be_ ** _._

* * *

Phoenix blinked furiously as he finished writing, refusing to lose the battle he'd been winning against the dam of tears that had been threatening to erupt from within him for the past fortnight.

He reached back into his drawer for his ever-present magatama, a green rock shaped like a number nine that his former assistant had given to him ages ago. It had been powered by the spirit medium Pearl Fey, Maya's little cousin, whom he'd known and loved as his own daughter ever since she was eight-years-old…

Suddenly, he faltered in his actions and stopped his train of thought right there.

_Pearl. Little girl. Daughter…Bloody freakin hell!_

He crumpled up the letter and threw it across the room into his wastepaper basket in the corner. It teetered around the rim for a moment before changing direction and bouncing onto the floor.

_Negative two points, Wright. At least you know the NBA isn't in your future as a feasible career choice! Aside from the fact that you totally suck bag at anything sports related…you're also a damn Hobbit!_

Well, not _exactly_ Little People worthy. He was 5'9". But definitely nowhere near Lakers' standards.

_Good Lord._ Here he was, lamenting about his crushed dreams of the failed basketball career he'd never even wanted, and writing breakup letters when there was something even more pressing he needed to attend to first. Something he should have done quite some time ago.

He took a gigantic, deep breath. And then, for the first time in two long weeks, Phoenix Wright picked up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simple Plan - Welcome To My Life


	5. No Longer An Attorney, Just A Daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna start letting you know this  
> Because of you my life has a purpose  
> You helped me be who I am today  
> I see myself in every word you say  
> Sometimes it feels like nobody gets me  
> Trapped in a world where everyone hates me  
> There's so much that I'm going through  
> I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you
> 
> I was broken  
> I was choking  
> I was lost  
> This song saved my life  
> I was bleeding  
> Stopped believing  
> Could have died  
> This song saved my life  
> I was down  
> I was drowning  
> But it came on just in time  
> This song saved my life
> 
> Sometimes I feel like you've known me forever  
> You always know how to make me feel better  
> You're my escape when I'm stuck  
> In this small town  
> I turn you up  
> Whenever I feel down  
> You let me know like no one else  
> That it's okay be myself  
> I was broken  
> I was choking  
> I was lost  
> This song saved my life
> 
> I was bleeding  
> Stopped believing  
> Could have died  
> This song saved my life  
> I was down  
> I was drowning  
> But it came on just in time  
> This song saved my life  
> You'll never know  
> What it means to me  
> That I'm not alone  
> That I'll never have to be  
> I was broken  
> I was choking  
> I was lost  
> This song saved my life
> 
> I was bleeding  
> Stopped believing  
> Could have died  
> This song saved my life  
> I was down  
> I was drowning  
> But it came on just in time  
> This song saved my life

**_Phoenix Wright  
_** _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
May 3, 2019, 1:08 PM

Trucy Enigmar stood before him, enormous Bambi eyes, partially hidden by her pink silk magician hat, looking up at him with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

Phoenix gazed back at her, feeling small beads of apprehensive sweat beginning to form at his brow. Now that he'd summoned the little girl to his office, he had no idea how to go about the things. This conversation was going to be incredibly awkward, and he wasn't sure if what he was about to tell the child was going to be harder to say, or harder to hear.

He nervously cleared his throat.

"Trucy, there's something we need to talk about."

Trucy didn't speak. She just continued to stare at him silently.

"It's been two weeks since your father... disappeared," he floundered. "We need to start thinking about... your future."

More silence.

"I, um, did some calling around…" Phoenix scratched the back of his head. "This is hard to say, but...you have no living relatives."

Still no response.

"So..." Phoenix was officially sweat-dropping now. "I was wondering if you wanted to stay with me for a while. Just until your daddy comes home. It won't be for long…"

… _I hope._

The little girl's continual muteness was making him agitated now, and he continued to jabber on anxiously.

"Uh, of course, it's your choice! If you don't like it here, you can go wherever you'd like. I could look up some places you might like to stay at..." _This is so weird...I wish she'd say something. Anything!_

"Mr. Attorney." Trucy finally spoke, her tiny face serious. "Daddy told me about you. He said I could trust you."

"Huh...? Really?"

He was immediately disgusted with his ineloquent, fumfering response.

 _Hell's Bells! How was I was ever any sort of renowned Ace Attorney_? _Has articulation left me entirely?_

Trucy nodded, the expression on her doll-like features earnest and hopeful. "So, if I stay here...does that mean you'll be my family?"

"Huh? Uh... Um... I guess so?" _Getting weirder..._

"Um... Mr. Attorney?"

He winced at the title, harmless though it'd been intended. "Er, actually, why don't you call me... Nick. Or you can call me "Daddy" if you'd like. It doesn't have to be today or anything…"

Trucy beamed.

"OK! Say, Daddy?"

_Wowzah! That was quick!_

"Yes?"

"If I move here, I have to switch schools, right? And I was thinking, I haven't paid for lunches at my last school... for a year. So thanks, Daddy!" She gave a winsome smile, showing her little white teeth.

"...Ah."

_Really, Phoenix? That's all you've got to say?_

"Oh, and this office? It's a little blah." The formerly tongue-tied child turned chatterbox went on happily. "A little color goes a long way, you know?"

"...Ah."

 _Once an articulate attorney, always an articulate attorney_. **_Not!_**

"Oh, and Daddy? You got fired from work, right? Don't you worry one bit! I'll work twice as hard! We'll make it through this!"

Her words officially sunk in, and Phoenix unexpectedly found his heart beating erratically. What the _hell_ was he doing? Five hours earlier he was sitting in his office looking up how to file for unemployment, and now here he was suddenly going to be playing daddy, and sharing his home with a little girl!? Had he completely lost his mind?! He didn't know the first thing about being a parent! Sure, he'd had some experience for a year or so with Pearls, with him and Maya playing unofficial mommy and daddy to the orphaned child, but other than that he had _zero_ parenting knowledge! He was _definitely_ in over his head!

But what else could he do? Trucy had nowhere else to go, and he wasn't about to just throw a little girl out into the streets.

Phoenix finally managed to find himself able to snap out of his flabbergasted state and speak a complete sentence.

"Trucy ... how old are you?"

"Oh, I'm eight." She told him proudly, her cerulean eyes sparkling. "But don't let appearances deceive you! I'm a young professional! Stick with me and you'll do just fine, Daddy!"

"...Ah, thanks." _Why does it feel like she's already in charge...?_

Trucy reassured the ex-attorney that she would work hard to support both of them, as she was a professional magician, taking after her father. She showed him one of her magic tricks - the Amazing Mr. Hat - to prove her worth. Trucy explained that her mother, Thalassa Gramarye, had been a part of her father's magician's group, Troupe Gramarye, but she had "disappeared" during a trick, and had never come back. Zak had comforted Trucy with a locket containing a photo of her beautiful mother. She got misty-eyed as she spoke of this, and his heart ached for the little girl, whose mother and father had both vanished, the latter right before her very eyes.

With a lump in his throat, Phoenix swore to Trucy that he would not disappear on her as her parents had. He apologized profusely for making her have to talk about so many heavy topics of conversation all at once, as he would have hated to overwhelm the child.

"It's OK!" Another disarming smile from the little girl. "After all, we're family! I just hope you're ready! The Wright Talent Agency opens tomorrow!"

He was completely dumbfounded.

"Wh-What!? B-But are we ... representing anyone?"

"Me and you ... That makes _two_ , Daddy...!"

"I think you need more than that to make an agency," Phoenix explained gently. "Besides...you may be a magician...but I'm no talent!"

Trucy looked disappointed, citing that a boy should always have a trick or two up his sleeve, but surely he was good at _something_? Phoenix hastily assured her that he would think of something, not wanting to hose down the child's burning enthusiasm.

"That's the spirit! See you bright and early tomorrow, Daddy!"

"Welcome to the team, Daddy-O!" Crowed Mr. Hat, the enormous life-sized wooden puppet of Trucy's that Phoenix had decided was more charming than creepy.

And that how was how the former Wright & Co. Law Offices became The Wright Talent Agency.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Miserable Hag Battle-Axe_**  
 _Social Services Offices_  
May 4, 2019

"I must say I'm a little confused, Mr. Wright. Why would a young, single, unemployed, and presumably sane man such as yourself want to take on the responsibility of adopting a child?"

A couple of days later Phoenix had gone down to Social Services to discuss his plans to adopt with Trucy. The social worker in charge was a stern woman with a strict, no-nonsense air to her named _Ms._ (not _Miss_ , she'd nearly bitten his head off for the error) Bea Verhunt.

She was a towering, wide-framed woman in her sixties, built more like an NBA player than Phoenix could have ever hoped to be – for either the men _or_ woman's team! Her silver hair was scraped back off her face into a tight bun, her beady dark eyes raked him with disapproval, and her thin lips, which were only a slash on her face, were pursed into a frown as she looked over his application.

"Well...I know it sounds crazy but, I sort of feel like I...owe it to her?" Phoenix answered nervously. "What I mean is, I feel like it's my fault her father went missing in the first place. If I had only..." He stopped, not wanting to continue speaking of the events of that unfortunate case aloud, even though he'd been torturing himself with the thought ever since.

 _If I'd just stuck to my own gut instead of stooping to using the first thing that came to me, maybe I could have gotten Zak declared not guilty. Then maybe, Trucy would still have her real father with her_.

"Well, I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Wright." The social worker spoke gravely. "You are the last person I would choose to take in this little girl, considering your past and what looks like your future as a low-life ex-lawyer. And I'm not sure culpable obligation is among the better reasons I've heard of anyone wanting to become a parent."

Phoenix felt as if a hundred shards of ice went through his chest. But he struggled to keep his composure. This woman was _not_ going to take Trucy away from him.

"Sometimes when magicians vanish, they leave something behind," he informed the Iron Lady, his thoughtful, quiet voice betraying no evidence to his growing inner panic that his daughter's fate lay in the hands of this cuddly as a cactus She-Thing. "Something unbelievably precious. I need you to understand something. How I feel about this child is beyond any sort of guilty responsibility. Yes, to be honest, I was pretty lost those first few days after I was disbarred. It was a pretty dark time in my life…but Trucy, smiling, happy Trucy... she is my light. _The light of my life_."

His words were met with dead silence at first, and he realized he was actually holding his breath as he waited for a reaction from the social worker, whose expression was impassive. Finally, after what felt like ages, she spoke, her normally glacial tone visibly thawed by several degrees.

"That was quite the impassioned plea, Mr. Wright. You can take the attorney out of the courtroom…but…anyhow, I digress. Normally I find most lawyers to be the most insufferable sort of liars, but you really _do_ seem like you genuinely care about the girl."

Ms. Verhunt leaned back in her chair and eyed him with begrudging respect. Apparently, his little speech had gotten to her.

"And it _would_ be better than having her go to an orphanage. Ergo…" she let out a resigned sigh. "I'm going to let her stay with you… _on a trial basis_. I will be checking up on you _every week_ to see how things are going. And as long as her environment is good and she is being well taken care of, then we will go through the steps to adopt."

"R-really?" Phoenix's eyes lit up in excitement. "Thank you, Miss - er, _Ms_. Verhunt! Thank you so much!"

"Alright don't celebrate just yet. Just remember, this is only a trial. If I don't see that she is being properly taken care of, or if there are any questions of your character that comes up during the background investigation, then I won't hesitate in taking her." She smiled cheerlessly. "Let's hope that your forfeited attorney badge is the sole skeleton in your closet."

"Of course it is! And of course, she will be!"

"Your current unemployment status is also causing concern. You _are_ looking for steady work, are you not?"

"Y-yeah! I am, don't worry everything will work out!"

"Fine then." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, as if shooing away a pesky fly. "Off with you now, before I change my mind."

She didn't need to tell him twice.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Trucy Enigmar_**  
 _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
May 4, 2019

Later that night, belly full of the salty noodles from Mr. Eldoon's stand that had been their dinner, a sleep-deprived Phoenix got into his bed as usual when he heard his bedroom door crack open slightly.

"Umm ... Daddy?" Trucy whispered, rubbing her tired eyes.

"Is everything alright, Trucy?"

"I had a nightmare," she said in a small voice. "I dreamt that you disappeared like my Mommy and Daddy did, and these mean people were telling me you left a note saying that you didn't want me anymore and were going to send me away...and I was all alone again…" her voice shook, and Phoenix felt his heart lurch. "So I was just...c-can I sleep with you tonight?"

He felt his heart break upon hearing the words, although he was hesitant at first, considering the potential rules he could break by allowing this; he had enough trouble with the law as it is. However, he was adopting the girl, so it shouldn't have any perturbing undertones. How many times had he fallen asleep cuddled against the then-teenaged Maya on the couch, or with Pearls in his lap?

Besides, for some reason, he was having a hard time saying 'no' to the little magician. She needed all the love and reassurance in the world right now, and he was going to make sure she got it, regardless of what it took to give it to her.

_Two days in and she's already got me wrapped around her finger._

He swore he was going to ensure that Trucy Wright never had any doubt in her mind or another nightmare ever again that he was _ever_ going to let go of her, no matter what the circumstances. They would have to pry her from his cold, dead hands.

_If you can find a cause that touches your soul, it will make you a better person. It will show you the power of helping others, and ultimately the biggest winner is us. Giving to others helps us to grow, to have a different outlook in life, to appreciate what we have and to be more positive._

"Alright, come on." He patted the space next to him to which Trucy ran on and got under the covers. Phoenix took the top blanket and tucked her in accordingly until she was as snug as a bug. "Just so you know, kiddo, I'm always going to be your Daddy from now on, alright? I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," Trucy mumbled drowsily.

"Goodnight, Daddy." She yawned as she turned in place.

"Goodnight, Trucy." Phoenix reached over to the nightstand, shut off the lamp, got under the covers and closed his eyes.

Just as he was drifting off, he heard the words he never thought he'd hear in his life.

"I love you, Daddy."

Phoenix smiled for the first time in what seemed like ages. Maybe, just maybe, this parenting thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simple Plan - This Song Saved My Life


	6. Leaving On A Jet Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wake up and don't want to smile  
> If it takes just a little while  
> Open your eyes and look at the day  
> You'll see things in a different way
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> Why not think about times to come?  
> And not about the things that you've done  
> If your life was bad to you  
> Just think what tomorrow will do
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before,  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> All I want is to see you smile  
> If it takes just a little while  
> I know you don't believe that it's true  
> I never meant any harm to you
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before,  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> Ooh, don't you look back  
> Ooh, don't you look back  
> Ooh, don't you look back  
> Ooh, don't you look back

**_Miles Edgeworth  
_**_High Prosecutor's Office  
_May 6, 2019, 9:30 AM

Miles bit back a frustrated curse as he got the same undeliverable communication bouncing back to his email for the umpteenth time, telling him that the mailbox he'd been attempting to send a message to was full. He'd gotten a similar message when he'd tried to call Phoenix's cell phone. Voicemail was full. And as for the number to his law office, the answering service didn't even turn on anymore! The phone just endlessly rang, and rang and rang. He would know. He'd been relentlessly trying for the past _two weeks_ to reach his friend. Had even knocked on the door of his residence a few times, with the same outcome. No answer.

Phoenix Wright appeared to have completely vanished, in a manner not at all eerily dissimilar to his last client, Zak Gramarye.

Miles' emotions had shifted from shock, to concern, to minor annoyance, and finally, to frustration. He'd circled back to concerned again. It didn't make matters any better that he had a frenzied spirit medium calling him at all hours of the day as well, frantically trying to reach her boyfriend, also to no avail, since she'd gotten back in town, demanding, begging, _pleading_ with him to update her on Phoenix's whereabouts.

"I've been trying to reach him for _four_ days now, Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya had wailed to him during her dozenth call to him that morning – and it was only half-past nine! "Please let me know if he's alive… if he's all right…if there's anything I can do…"

 _Four days_ and she was already at this level of histrionics? Try _fourteen_!

But he remained calm, polite and reasonable with his friend. Yes, he was sure Phoenix was alive as neither she nor her cousin Pearl was able to channel his ghost from the 'spirit world', (Miles still couldn't get past the surreality of that conversation; after all, he was a man of _logic_ who now had idle conversations about otherworld occurrences as readily as he did about the weather!); yes he'd let her know if Phoenix was alright and absolutely he'd advise her if there was anything she could do.

Miles felt terribly sorry for Maya. Whatever her reasons – he'd been too mannerly to pry – for her being unable to come down from Kurain herself to try to see Phoenix, he'd accepted that it was now his apparent responsibility to keep tabs on the missing man, and he could tell underneath her hysteria was a deep hurt and confusion, as well as contriteness for any inconvenience she was causing her friend with her repeated calls and requests.

Miles had his own reasons for now adding anxiousness to the list of his kaleidoscope of emotions. The 'potential' news he'd wanted to convey to Phoenix for some time now was no longer optional; he'd put the deadline off as long as he possibly could. It was at a point now where his delay tactics were beginning to take their toll with him and Franziska, who had already flown back to The Continent without him in order to hold the down fort. The time had come where he had to make his final decision about whether or not he was going to, as his fuming fiancée had so eloquently put it, "shit or get off the pot."

At least, that was roughly what it translated into from German.

He couldn't put things off any longer. There was no more of the ' _should I stay or should I go'_ game to play anymore. He was going to have to go.

Today was going to be Miles' final day in the States for a very long time. The night before Phoenix had been disbarred, he and Franziska had gotten the call that they were both required for a top-secret investigation in Europe for Interpol, with Miles being requested as the prosecutor in charge of the investigation. Both attorneys would most likely be inaccessible via phone, and only sporadically via email to any outside contacts.

But it was an incredible opportunity, one that could not be missed.

Miles had tried to stall the motions as long as possible. It wasn't a matter of choosing between Franziska and Phoenix, he'd patiently explained to his fiancée, who had wanted to leave the very next day. She'd wryly cited the obvious, which was that they were basically immigrating back to Europe literally _just_ as they had made the monumental decision to move back to the States, and had even gotten a new puppy, Pess!

He'd decided to accept Shi-Long Lang's offer the moment it had been made; Franziska and his career were always his top priorities, and it would be both challenging and exciting to be working together again alongside the brilliant Interpol agent. As for their furry daughter, Pess was bloody well coming with them! It had been his sole stipulation in agreeing to the whole thing!

The wheel in motion was already turning. Unable to remain in LA any longer with Miles without risking the Interpol agent's ire – Lang had never been a patient man – Franziska had left over a week ago now, taking the golden retriever puppy with her. It was literally a toss-up for Miles about which parting had been more difficult for him to endure, even though he knew he would be reunited with both his girls soon enough.

No, bidding temporary adieu to his fiancée and puppy wasn't what had Miles in such a turmoil. It would be saying goodbye to Phoenix, especially at this particularly low point in the former attorney's life, when, despite his valiant efforts to hide from the world, he needed compassion and support more than ever.

But despite his fervent efforts for the past two weeks, Miles had been unable to reach him. The deadline for him to make contact with his old friend was today. He had run out of tomorrows. His flight left the next morning.

He could no longer make the excuses to Lang that he needed some 'time to tie up loose ends and get his affairs in order.' Franziska had made it quite clear when they'd spoken on the phone the night before that the implied ultimatum wasn't coming from _her_ , even though she supported the beliefs of the Wolf-Man.

"You have been hounding that foolish man for weeks now, Miles!" She'd stormed, the aggravation evident in her voice even over the long-distance connection. "Enough is _enough_! Phoenix Wright is a grown man. He does not need a babysitter! You have been trying in vain to reach him and offer your assistance and sympathies, and he obviously does not wish for either one!"

"We don't know that," Miles protested weakly, although, at this point, he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Franziska or himself.

_Ultimately, Wright is my best friend. I need to be there for him right now. I need to tell him: "even though it seems everybody else loathes you, you'll always have a friend who protects you and wishes to uplift you from pain, misery, and suffering, and that will always turn and remain the hardest blow to those who hate you…"_

"Miles," Franziska's tone softened. "I know how much you care about him, but he is not your responsibility any longer – if he ever was! There are some things you just can't bail him out of. He's got Maya now to be his shoulder to cry on."

"He won't even take _her_ calls!" The prosecutor grumbled with aggravation. "Which is almost more maddening than him dodging _mine_. She's his _girlfriend_. After everything they have been through, after all the trouble they went through to _be_ together, why would he cast her aside as he has? I've been around the two of them more than you have Franziska. _She_ needs _him_ just as much as _he_ needs _her_. Their relationship, even before they got together … I can only describe it as symbiotic. If one falls, the other falls. When one is strong, so, therefore, is the other."

"You have already given them a lot of thought, _Liebling_. I suppose you have naught better to do with your time, what with our four-legged daughter and I stationed so far away," the German woman teased.

"Not _thought_ so much as _witnessed_ ," he corrected her. "I saw what Wright was like when Maya got kidnapped by De Killer, _meine Dame_. _She_ was helpless, so _he_ felt vulnerable and useless. Not even having Pearl channel Mia helped much."

"Yet it took the fool another year or so to declare his love for her after that whole fiasco," Franziska muttered. "The poor girl nearly had to die a second time after that to make him smarten up."

"No, nearly losing her after that whole Hazakura Temple ordeal still wasn't what did it, if you recall," Miles chuckled. "If memory serves me correctly, it was a martini to the face that was the ultimate eye-opener for Wright."

"Miles, enough about Phoenix! _I_ am lost without _you_ ," she cried in frustration. "We head off to Borginia the day after tomorrow. After that, I do not know if you will be able to reach me – or if Lang's offer will still be on the table. What should I tell him?"

"Tell him I've booked the 11:00 AM flight to Germany for tomorrow morning."

"Your daughter and I will be there waiting for you at the arrivals gate, _Liebling_. I can tell how much she misses her daddy."

"Has she really been the only one to notice my absence, _meine Dame_?" There was a grin in his voice.

"I was planning on _showing_ , rather than _telling_ you, _Herr_ Edgeworth," she purred silkily. "The irrefutable evidence of just _how much_ I have been missing you."

Miles remembered how he'd felt his pulse quicken at the underlying premise of the words. He was still hot and bothered after they'd rang off. That night, he'd had the coldest shower known to man.

Twelve hours later, he was still wondering if it was already too late to bump up his flight time.

 _Probably_. He let out a small sigh. It was just as well. He genuinely did have some matters to finalize, non-Phoenix related ones, if he was going to be able to take off to Europe with a clear mind, and conscience.

He attended to those affairs first and foremost, and then at about 4:00 PM, picked up his desk phone and called Phoenix's office number one last time. Hell, he hadn't gotten to be a successful prosecutor without having _some_ level of perseverance!

To his complete surprise, this time someone actually answered.

"Hello, this is the Wright Talent Agency!" A young girl's voice twittered gaily. "President and CEO Trucy speaking!"

Had Miles not heard the name Wright in that sentence, he would have assumed he had dialed the wrong number. Nevertheless, he had to be certain.

"I'm looking for a Phoenix Wright?" He said hesitantly.

"Daddy is napping right now. May I take a message?" The child asked.

 _Daddy_? Since when did Phoenix have a _daughter_?

"No, it's fine, Miss. I will call back later," Miles replied abruptly, and hung up. Reaching into his drawer for his car keys, he headed swiftly for the door.

_Wright, you've got some 'splaining to do…_

* * *

__**Miles Edgeworth and Trucy Enigmar**  
_Wright Talent Agency_  
May 6, 2019, 4:20 PM

Miles was relieved to note that Phoenix still had the same office, although when he got there, the professional-looking gold name-placard had been replaced by a paper one. Written on a notecard the office was now labeled, _in crayon_ , as the "Wright Talent Agency."

_I'm not sure what that means, but it can't be good._

Miles couldn't believe he'd taken time off work in order to come there, the day before he left the country and still had to pack and complete about a million other things in preparation for his travels. There was just something about Phoenix; the man had this magnetic, almost magical draw about him, and he, Maya, Pearl were all the victims.

He shook his head as he knocked on the door.

_Why must I be grouped with those two nutty girls? I'm a grown man! Why did I let this spiky-haired fool make me open up my heart, and start having feelings again? Yes, in doing so, I wound up with Franziska, but now I'm at the opposite end of the spectrum, where I care about things, about people… about **him** … **too damn much**!_

The door swung open, and an adorable little moppet, wearing an odd cloak-like garment and matching pink hat looked up at him with a smile.

_Humph. For the record, I'd like to state for the record that what **she** is wearing is literally **pink** in color! My suit is **not** pink, it's **magenta**!_

"Hello, and welcome to the Wright Talent Agency!" The girl chirped, ushering Miles inside and closing the door behind him. She gave a dramatic bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Trucy, President and CEO." She offered him one of her tiny hands to shake.

Miles awkwardly shook her hand, all the while wondering what on earth was going on. The office was still the same as it'd been since he had last seen it, except now it was littered with magician's props everywhere, including a plate of plastic spaghetti with a fork that appeared to be floating over it. "I'm Miles Edgeworth. Is um, your father still napping?"

"Oh, you're the client that called before! This is so exciting! Yup, he's awake, he's just scrubbing the toilet right now. I'll go get him." She ran off before Miles could explain that he was a friend, not a client of any sort. Sighing, he mulled over what he'd say when he finally saw Phoenix.

He was seated on one of the two chairs at the office conference table in the corner when the former defense attorney entered.

The spiky-haired man carried himself in a kind of slouch and slumped into the chair across from Miles without looking up then, his lifeless cadence belying his congenial greeting.

"Hello there. Trucy told me we had our first client. Man, we just opened up the shop three days ago. Word sure gets around fast…"

Phoenix's eyes met the prosecutor's then. Midnight blue against steel grey. His composure visibly slipped.

Miles wasn't in a much better state as he took in the sight of his best friend, and was rendered completely speechless.

" _Edgeworth_?" Phoenix gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fleetwood Mac – Don't Stop


	7. Severed Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You and me  
> We used to be together  
> Every day together always  
> I really feel
> 
> That I'm losing my best friend  
> I can't believe this could be the end  
> It looks as though you're letting go  
> And if it's real  
> Well I don't want to know  
> Don't speak
> 
> I know just what you're saying  
> So please stop explaining  
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts  
> Don't speak  
> I know what you're thinking  
> I don't need your reasons  
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
> 
> Our memories
> 
> They can be inviting  
> But some are altogether mighty frightening  
> As we die, both you and I  
> With my head in my hands I sit and cry  
> Don't speak
> 
> I know just what you're saying  
> So please stop explaining
> 
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts  
> (No, no, no) Don't speak  
> I know what you're thinking  
> And I don't need your reasons  
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
> 
> It's all ending  
> I gotta stop pretending who we are
> 
> You and me  
> I can see us dying. Are we?
> 
> Don't speak  
> I know just what you're saying  
> So please stop explaining  
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
> 
> Don't speak  
> I know what you're thinking  
> And I don't need your reasons  
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
> 
> Don't tell me 'cause it hurts  
> I know what you're saying  
> So please stop explaining  
> Don't speak  
> Don't speak  
> Don't speak (no)
> 
> I know what you're thinking  
> And I don't need your reasons  
> I know you're good  
> I know you're good  
> I know you're real good
> 
> Don't, don't

****_Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright  
_ _Wright Talent Agency  
_ May 6, 2019, 4:20 PM

"Yes, Wright, it's me. Though I believe you're the one who looks less recognizable. I mean, _I_ still have the same fashion sense."

_The man has never had a sense of style, but unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, he's wearing open-toed sandals with some sort of jogging suit and a knit beanie of some kind._

"If _that's_ what you want to call it, Edgeworth." Phoenix's tone was acidic, but Miles was expecting as much. Logically, his appearance at the residence during the workday meant he knew what had happened.

"Wright, what's going on?"

"We're doing business. Or is that not what you're here for? Because it's why my daughter called me out here."

"Wright, obviously I came here to talk with you about what happened."

"There's nothing to talk about. I've lost my badge. I have a kid. I run a talent agency now. Therefore, if you aren't here on business, get out."

Phoenix's eyes weren't meeting his. Miles could tell he was embarrassed. He wished he could somehow find the right words to convince the other man that things would get better and that he didn't need to go through this act of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, alone. Bloody hell, Wright could be exasperating at times! He frantically contemplated what he could say to ease the tension of the situation.

"Wright, is there anything at that we can do? Both Franziska and I are keen to lend assistance in any way possible."

"Like either of you give a rat's ass about me," Phoenix jeered. "That woman can't stand me and only puts up with me for your sake and you know it! I'm sure Franziska's as happy as a pig in shit about me being disbarred."

"I appreciate neither your choice of words nor your tone, Wright! I will thank you not to speak of my fiancée in such a manner again!"

He swallowed hard, uncertain of what to further say that wouldn't complicate things further. The barrister's reflex was to remind the anterior attorney that Franziska had played as big a role as Miles himself had, if not a bigger one, in getting Phoenix and Maya together, and she thus deserved some iota of respect for that, but he held his tongue. He needed to remember that his friend was only acting this way because he wasn't himself right now, and his curt demeanor was simply a front to mask his pain.

 _I should have known better than to mention Franziska,_ Miles lamented. _She has been beyond inexcusably horrendous to him in the past. But she's my life now…we're a unit. She's the one who sent me and held up our Interpol operation so that I could be here right now. I don't have to have her permission to do things, but I know I never would have come if she hadn't told me it was OK with her. As much as I care for my best friend, I love Franziska more._

"You just take off to Germany," Phoenix snarled. "Just _took off_ , without warning. That was my thanks for getting your ass off the hook for a murder rap."

Miles gritted his teeth against the unanticipated onslaught. He remembered all the times they'd hung out as children, and then later as adults. He remembered how much it had hurt when he'd moved away both times. How he'd still thought constantly about his childhood best friend, who had grown into the man who claimed that Miles had been his inspiration in life, without knowing how much of an influence he'd played in Miles' own.

He decided to change the subject.

"It was such unfortunate timing that when all this happened, Maya then had to leave on business travels…" Miles studied his friend as he spoke his girlfriend's name, and thought he saw a twitch.

_It's just as I thought. He always gets hugely depressed when she's away from him. It's a pity he's still in denial that he needs her, that he's pushing her away, in the way he is with me now. Damn him and his blasted stubbornness!_

"What's going on with her, Wright?" He decided to play dumb about his knowledge of Phoenix's neglect in contacting the woman he claimed to love.

"We broke up all right?" He growled.

Miles was stunned. When he'd last spoken to Maya that morning, the girl had sounded sad and confused and hurt, but very much in love. And very much like someone who was entirely in the dark about what was going on. Had the two communicated since his last conversation with her? He wondered about the timing of this. Surely Maya couldn't so low as to dump Phoenix for losing his badge? She'd always been so loyal and devoted, first as his employee, then as his friend and love interest. He'd assumed she cared about Phoenix enough to stick around when he'd hit rock bottom.

However, something about Phoenix's words contradicted information Miles was privy to, but which he wasn't about to disclose now. He wasn't there to question the validity of the spiky-haired man's statements.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Phoenix said nothing. He was back to avoiding eye contact.

"So, Wright, what's this about you becoming a father?"

"I'm in the process of the adoption application. Trucy's father was the defendant in my last case."

Miles smirked. That, at least, made perfect sense. Phoenix had always been very dedicated to his clients…and a sucker for little girls. He remembered how attached his friend had been to Pearl. No wonder he'd taken Trucy in.

"Do you think that's wise right now? Shouldn't you be working on getting your badge back?"

"No. Trucy's my priority right now. She needs a guardian, and my dumbass is the reason she lost her father, so I owe it to her. While I didn't forge anything, I still presented it. Therefore, it's my screw up. So, I may as well just move on with my life."

"Ergo, this entails turning your back on everyone who was part of your past? Is _that_ an instrumental part of your moving on plans, Wright?"

"That's really rich coming from _you_! You're hardly a stranger to pushing people away. Or just _ghosting_ on their asses when you feel like disappearing on a whim! At least I didn't fake my own death." Phoenix's glare at Miles over the table was almost painful as the weight of the ambush hit him. "You sure have a flair for the dramatic, Edgeworth."

_He's certainly picked a prime time to bring up my playing dead for a year! I know he and Franziska both grieved for me. I think Franziska has forgiven me, but Wright certainly has not. If he's still angry with me for the last time I took off to Europe, how on earth will he react when he finds out I'm leaving again … for much longer this time?_

"You know I'm sorry about that. You brought so many ugly truths to light…things that I needed to reassess and reevaluate, in solitude. It was so unexpected and overwhelming. I needed some time away to think things through...surely, you can understand that, Wright?"

Phoenix chuckled bitterly and looked away. Miles couldn't tell whether it was at his apology attempt or just the whole situation that was the reason for the harsh sound.

"Wright, I'm sorry Maya-"

"She didn't dump me, Edgeworth. I dumped her. At least…I'm going to. Whenever I get around to it."

_Eureka! Ergo, he hasn't contacted her yet, just as I suspected. Interesting. I wonder how the normally bubbly Miss Fey could adapt to this new-found, whatever will be, will be, grumpiness of his? Still, it's rotten the way he's treating her. She deserves more than to be simply ignored like this, and should at least get a clean break._

"Wright, why are you adopting this little girl? What do you know about being a father?"

"What? You don't think I can do it? That I'm not stable enough? Look, it doesn't take an attorney's badge to take care of a kid. I helped Maya and Pearls. I can help Trucy."

"You're seriously going to lump Maya into the kid category with Pearl and Trucy, Wright?"

"What do you mean? Alright, so we had some... close moments that would contradict that. But ultimately, she is … _was_ , like a sister to me."

Miles was fascinated by Phoenix's lame attempt to rewrite history. Was _this_ the same man who had tearily confessed, _just last month,_ to him, Larry, and Gumshoe that he loved Maya Fey more than the air he breathed? Who had made a public spectacle of himself proving that love to her that very night? Was he genuinely going to pretend all those dramatic events had never happened and try to sweep it all under the whole _'I loved her but only as a sister'_ rug?

_As an expert on the subject, I could elaborate and educate on the fine details on what it's like to have someone be so close to you for so long that it feels like a sibling relationship; until the day comes when you have no choice but to acknowledge that it's since developed into something much, much more. It's just that I don't think he'd appreciate me bringing up Franziska again, so I'm keeping my mouth shut and leaving her out of this. But since I can't seem to speak to or reason with him, I feel like forfeiting on this entire endeavor. The blasted man can be so damn pig-headed!_

"Are you sure you aren't adopting this little girl to fill a void in your life? When really what you should be doing is figuring out things with Maya?"

"I _thought_ I had feelings for Maya, but I've had time to think about it, and I didn't, OK? I have no romantic feelings for Maya whatsoever, _and_ I resent your insinuation that I ever did as if I'm some kind of pedophile!"

Miles looked searchingly at his friend. Was there a particular _reason_ Phoenix was suddenly trying to erase all history he'd ever had with Maya? The logic genius couldn't even begin to fathom what it could be. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

"Wright, Maya's older now. It's OK for you to love her. For you two to be together."

"You sound like Pearls."

"No, I don't." Miles grinned at the mention of Maya's adorable little cousin/pseudo adopted daughter. "Not at any point here did I use the words 'special someones'. Not even once."

The ghost of a smile flickered across spiky-haired man's lips at the mention of the precocious little spirit medium they'd both been so fond of. And that was when Miles realized that Maya and Pearl were amongst the list of people that Phoenix was trying to convince himself had been a _lifetime_ ago rather a few _months_ ago, as though he was literally dead to them. Which was ridiculous! Maya and Pearl wouldn't give a damn what he did for a living. Hell, they'd probably be happier if he flipped hamburgers or drew caricatures as his occupation. They might even like his new hobo-chic look. They loved Phoenix, and he was sure they would miss him, as much as Miles would. As much as he already _did_.

_Why can't the daft fool see that?_

"Wright, about Maya, you can still make this work. Don't try to deny how you've felt about her. She's been trying to reach you. She loves you. It doesn't matter what your occupation is. She loves you because you're _you_ …"

"No, we _can't_ make this work Edgeworth!" Phoenix loudly cut him off, his voice trembling. "She's an important, high-status Master of Kurain Village now! She deserves better than a low-life ex-lawyer like me!"

His voice rose a notch, even though it was shaking with emotion.

"What right have I to imagine that she would wish to unite her life with mine? Who and What am I? A man of no account, wanted by no one and of no use to anyone!"

_So **that's** why he's so coldly and cruelly cut off Maya. Because of his own self-loathing doubts about his diminished sense of self-worth. But it still bewilders me why a moment ago though, he was trying to convince me that there was never anything between them in the first place._

Miles ignored the impassioned speech, articulate though it had been.

"I merely think you need to reevaluate your motivations for adopting this young girl."

Phoenix jumped up from his seat and slammed both his hands on the table, courtroom style, as he glared daggers at his friend. "Shut the hell up, Edgeworth! Are you trying to insinuate that I have a sick fetish/Lolita complex because I can't get Maya out of my head? You're sick! I thought you were my friend!"

"Oh, good _God_ , I assure you I didn't mean it like _that_!" Miles protested. He hadn't expected his friend to be this touchy. He was at a loss for what to say, to comfort the other man somehow, but he didn't know what to do and telling him that it was killing him to see him like this wasn't going to help matters. "Phoenix, I think it's nice what you're doing, but you don't need to cut off ties with everyone. I know it's painful but we don't care about what happened! We haven't given up on you."

"Well, you should, OK? Ace Attorney Phoenix Wright is done, washed up, dead."

"I don't understand. Tell me why! Why are you throwing away everything you've worked so hard for so you can adopt that girl? Do you think this is what Mia would have wanted?"

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me about the Chief! The memory of her is _mine_ , not yours to throw around lightly! You didn't know…her... like…I did…"

Phoenix's voice broke, and he turned away from his friend. He was unmistakably crying, but he wasn't about to let Miles see that.

The prosecutor wanted to cry as well, but of course, no tears come. Those would be too human for an android like him. How had things turned out this horribly? He'd come to help and comfort his best friend and somehow had only made a bad situation worse. But what the hell was he supposed to do to fix it? He realized now that Phoenix's current predicament was merely the tip of the iceberg. How much pain had he been holding in?!

The last few years flash through his mind. _He lost his beloved mentor… I came in and out of his life… Maya left to become the Master…he's got no living parents since they died in a plane crash when he was in college…_

"I'm sorry, Wright." Miles' expression was pained. "I never meant to upset you. That was never my intention when I came here. I came here because Franziska and I are going back to Germany tomorrow for an Interpol assignment. I have no idea when I'll be back. I've been trying to reach you for the past few weeks so I could tell you that so that unlike last time, I didn't just up and leave without any warning. I wanted to tell you goodbye in person."

Phoenix turned his head slowly, his eyes red but luckily dry now, as they stared at his friend, the hurt and betrayal in them as clear as day.

Miles understood the reason for that look. First Maya, now him. Was it any wonder Phoenix thought he'd better off alone when the two most important people in his life had vanished, however unintentionally, at the same time?

_If only I wasn't so damn emotionally constipated and could just tell him how much I care about him! I wish I could tell him how Franziska has finally made me feel like I'm not alone anymore and he deserves the same which is why he needs to call Maya. She's in complete torment over all this; she didn't want to leave. She still loves and would forgive him anything. I'm sure of it._

"You're leaving again." It was a statement, not a question. Phoenix's voice was hallowed, despite the cold, accusing glint in his eyes.

"Wright! It won't be forever! A few years, at most," Miles' tone was beseeching as he spoke, even though Phoenix had turned away from him again. "We can try to fix all this! You can adopt Trucy and still fight to get your badge back. Listen to me, I will still be accessible via email. I can still do investigative work for you in the background. I'll help you. Franziska and I-"

"I am sick of hearing about your fiancée, Edgeworth, so stop reminding me of the woman who keeps taking you away from me!" Phoenix yelled, his face red. "You know, I can't believe you've been able to put up with her crazy, whip-happy ass for as long as you have. I honestly expected by now that you'd have come to your senses, gotten sick of her shit, and moved back here by now, permanently!"

"Phoenix, I know she's been awful to you in the past but things are different now. _Franziska_ is different now. She's the one who -"

"The _hell with Franziska Von Karma_ , Edgeworth! I have no bloody idea _what_ you see in that toxic, cold-hearted bitch –"

Miles was a pacifist man by nature. Despite all the vicious situations he'd endured in his life, he'd always been more of a lover than a fighter. He had never used physical force in his entire life on another human being. Right up until that moment.

His fist moved as if he had lost complete control of it, towards the other man's jaw before he had a chance to stop himself. It connected with the side of his face with a sickening crunch, unlike anything he'd ever heard before. Phoenix staggered back against the wall didn't fall.

Miles looked at his fist with horror. He'd just punched his best friend. One of the only friends he had. He wanted to cry when he saw the expression of shock and hurt upon Phoenix's face, like that of a wounded child or puppy as he clutched the side of his face where Miles had hit him.

_Good Lord, what have I done?!_

"Phoenix, I'm sorry – "

"Get out, Edgeworth."

"Please, I'm so sorry…"

"I am going to go upstairs now, to get an icepack for my jaw." Phoenix's voice was frostily calm, even as he glared Miles with contemptuous loathing. "And when I get back, your ass had best be gone from my house. You and me, Edgeworth, we're history. Done. _Now. Get. The. Hell. Out_. " Then, without another word or backward glance, Phoenix turned around and left the room.

_This shouldn't matter as much as it does because I have Franziska now to ease this dreadful burden of mine. Yet it still does matter because I care about that daft fool so much! He's right back where he was the night of Maya's party – in denial. It's painfully bad enough he's opting to deny his friendship to me. What's worse is the fact that he's denying the love he has for Maya, even though I know the idiot loves her, though I'll be damned if I can make him realize it! The blasted man has given me no choice but to move on with my life, even if it's without him. So be it. If he's too proud to accept my help and support, then fine. Wright is **right** – I guess I can't be his friend anymore._

With a heavy heart, Miles turned towards the door, his eyes burning with tears that couldn't fall, no matter how much he wished they would because it would have been such a relief to just let it all out. All the pain. All this damn frustration.

 _Dear Lord, why does this have to hurt so much? I may have been the one to strike him, but_ **_I'm_** _the one in total agony._

With a start, he realized his exit was blocked. Standing in front of the door, with an endearing grin, was Trucy. Miles winced at the sight of her; he'd genuinely forgotten she was still in the place as she seemed to have disappeared as soon as she'd let him in. He wondered how much she'd seen and heard.

"T- Trucy," Miles stammered. "Where did you come from?"

"From upstairs. I was cleaning up the apartment, then I had to go make an ice-pack and get my Daddy a grape juice."

It was at that moment that Miles, at last, understood the situation with Phoenix and his adorable daughter. **_He_** _isn't taking care of **her**. **She's** taking care of **him**. This makes a lot more sense. I must admit, Wright hasn't done too badly for himself. This is one sweet little ward he's wound up with._

Miles kneeled and smiled into the little girl's doll-like face. She had the aura of an old soul to her, and not just because she appeared to understand the importance of both housekeeping and ice usage to reduce swelling. It was more than that. Trucy had that same wise-beyond-her-years air to her that Franziska had also possessed as a child, along with that twinkle in her gaze only the innocence of youth possessed.

_Children truly do have such an amazing spark - until the harsh realities of the world around them dull that angelic glimmer from their eyes. This one has more than most. May life be good to this young tot. She's already seen enough tough reality, for one so young._

"Trucy, can you do me a favor?"

She nodded.

"Be a good little girl for Phoenix, OK? And please take very good care of him."

"You care a lot about my Daddy, don't you? You're not a client, are you?"

"No," Miles mumbled, his voice tinged with sadness. "I'm an attorney that worked with your Daddy. I…was a friend of his. I wanted to make sure you looked after him really well, because your Daddy…has a lot of people that care about him, very much."

"I'm sure he does, but no worries Mr. Miles! I make sure Daddy rises and shines, and gets plenty of exercise and eats well … I do a lot of the cooking because Daddy can't cook. Also, I make sure he gets enough to drink…"

A bottle of grape juice materialized out of the thin air. "And here's one for you too, for the road."

Miles was astonished. _She's amazingly good at this sleight of hand thing, especially for one so young._

He couldn't help but smile again as he took the proffered drink. The child had a disarming, charismatic quality to her that would melt even the most austere man. Remaining in his crouched down position, he offered the little magician his hand.

"Well, Trucy it's been very nice to meet you."

Forgoing a handshake this time, Trucy threw her arms around Miles and hugged him. The non-tactile barrister cleared his throat in response to the awkwardness. He still wasn't accustomed to this sort of thing. To comfort. To feelings. To physical contact.

_I'm not any good with children – yet for some unfathomable reason, Franziska wants to start a family with me! - and I've already reduced a grown man to tears today. What the hell is wrong with me? Was I born an automaton? Or do I have Manfred to thank for making me like this? I can't remember the last time anyone other than Franziska was this close to me. Or even wanted to be._

"Mr. Miles, please don't give up on my Daddy. He's been through a lot."

A wave of emotion hit Miles just then, and he gave the child a huge squeeze.

_As we grow up, we learn that even the person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it gets harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love, so take many pictures, laugh too much and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is one minute of happiness you'll never get back._

"Don't you worry, Trucy," he vowed. "I promise you that I will _never_ give up on your Daddy, even if it seems at times like he's given up on himself."

With these as his final spoken words, he saw himself out. He felt more at peace now, despite the disastrous outcome with his friend, because he knew Phoenix was at least in the good care of very capable hands.

_I know you'll both be all right, after all, Wright. It looks like you're an even luckier man than I thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Doubt - Don't Speak


	8. Don't Stop Believing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you get caught in the rain  
> With nowhere to run  
> When you're distraught and in pain  
> Without anyone
> 
> When you keep crying out to be saved  
> But nobody comes  
> And you feel so far away  
> That you just can't find your way home  
> You can get there alone  
> It's okay  
> What you say is
> 
> I can make it through the rain  
> I can stand up once again  
> On my own  
> And I know  
> That I'm strong enough to mend
> 
> And every time I feel afraid  
> I hold tighter to my faith  
> And I live one more day  
> And I make it through the rain
> 
> And if you keep falling down  
> Don't you dare give in  
> You will arise safe and sound  
> So keep pressing on steadfastly  
> And you'll find what you need  
> To prevail  
> What you say is
> 
> I can make it through the rain  
> I can stand up once again  
> On my own  
> And I know  
> That I'm strong enough to mend
> 
> And every time I feel afraid  
> I hold tighter to my faith  
> And I live one more day  
> And I'll make it through the rain
> 
> And when the wind blows  
> As shadows grow close  
> Don't be afraid  
> There's nothing you can't face
> 
> And should they tell you  
> You'll never pull through  
> Don't hesitate  
> Stand tall and say
> 
> I can make it through the rain  
> I can stand up once again  
> On my own  
> And I know  
> That I'm strong enough to mend
> 
> And every time I feel afraid  
> I hold tighter to my faith  
> And I live one more day  
> And I'll make it through the rain
> 
> I can make it through the rain  
> And stand up once again  
> And I live one more day  
> And I can make it through the rain
> 
> Oh, yes you can  
> You're gonna make it through the rain

_**Phoenix Wright and Trucy Engimar**  
_ _Wright Talent Agency_  
May 6, 2019, 4:45 PM

Phoenix had thought he'd already reached the pinnacle point of overwhelming devastation when he'd lost his badge. And yet he'd still managed to somehow keep it together and somehow not fall apart at the seams. But Edgeworth's visit had been his undoing. The moment he got upstairs to the kitchen and put the icepack on his face, he completely unraveled. A few teardrops fell.

_I have nothing. Nobody. I've never been more alone. And just I can't take it anymore. This is all too much for me. I can't do this. I can't, I just can't…_

No. He couldn't let himself fall apart like this. He wasn't alone. He had Trucy. He had to be strong for her. He owed it to both her and her dad. He had to keep going for her. She deserved someone to care about her and love her. She didn't deserve getting shuffled from foster home to foster home and being with people who would break her spirit.

_I'm sure Edgeworth thinks I'm going to be an awful Daddy. I probably will be, but at least Trucy will have one. Oh, who am I kidding? What the hell do I know about being a father? I'm just going to screw up Trucy's life the same way I did mine._

His friend's visit had only served as the gut-wrenching reminder of all that he'd lost.

His life as an attorney… _I'm a disgraced forging attorney. A low-life ex-lawyer just like Miss Beaver-Tail Face from Children's Services said._ _But being the law was all that I knew. What the hell am I supposed to do with my life now?_

Maya…. _The other day the Department of Child Safety asked about the 'nature' of my friendship with her, and it gutted me to have to deny the love of my life and swear that we were never romantically involved with one another and she was just a kid. Because the alternative is losing my daughter. And then I'd **truly** have nothing._

Mia... _Oh Chief, I've screwed up your legacy. I failed you. I ruined your office…How you'd despise me if you knew what I've done!_

Pearls… _The girl who I loved as a daughter. The reason I thought I could maybe be a good father to Trucy because I loved playing Daddy and Mommy with Maya for her so much. The person who always believed that Maya and I were each other's 'Special Someones' who loved each other and were meant to be together. But by the time we both finally realized she was right…it was too late for us…_

And now his best friend… _That smug, smarmy, judgmental son of a bitch! I loved him. And thinking I'd lost him, well that hurt like hell. I know it sounds emo or gay or whatever, but as a straight man, I can honestly say I love Edgeworth. He was my best friend… my heterosexual life partner! That was the reason why I never hit him back. Why did he have to go and deck me for calling Franziska a bitch? It's not a secret! I honestly thought he **knew**!_

Phoenix paused momentarily in his pity party to ruefully acknowledge his own blame on that one.

_OK, fine, **maybe** I deserved it; I probably would have done the same thing if anyone had said something bad about Maya…I did smack that afro-haired, Southern she-devil photographer one time over Maya after all. Not that it's ever OK to hit a woman, but Lotta Hart is an exception to that rule, surely? Anyway, what does any of this matter now? Because now, just when he and I repaired that rift and we were getting close again… I've lost him to Germany and Franziska ... **again**!_

Phoenix had no idea where it had come from. While Edgeworth packed a good punch, which would undoubtedly leave a mark on his face, he was so used to more severe forms of torture: hot coffee to the face, seeds whipped at him, birds pecking at his head, and the ilk, that ultimately, for someone with his high pain threshold, the blow had been the equivalent to a fart in a hurricane.

So it wasn't because of the physical pain of being sucker-punched by his best friend that made the tears start. But the war he'd been winning against his inner dam of tears was completely lost. First, a few more drops fell …and then the river flood commenced.

He hadn't cried in nearly ten years. It was completely ridiculous. He'd stopped being an emotive crybaby after the whole humiliating Dahlia trial in college. But cry he did. His chest heaved and his face burned. He was bawling like an infant in desperate need of a bottle, but he was powerless to stop it, regardless of how much he wanted to. He sobbed until he couldn't cry any longer, and even then, he sat at the kitchen table, shaking and sniffing. It could have been two minutes, it could have been two hours.

Trucy came back upstairs to the kitchen to find her father seated at the kitchen table, elbows up on the table with his head buried in his hands. The discarded ice pack carelessly lay on the floor, evidently forgotten. As she went to pick it up, she saw Daddy's shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? Why was daddy crying?

The little girl got up and walked around the table. Through his watery eyes, he could see her solemn face, more solemn than those of any eight-year-old should ever be. "Daddy…" she whispered, placing her hand on his back. "Why are you crying? Is it because your face hurts from bumping into the wall?"

Phoenix swallowed. Shit, she _knew_. She had caught him being weak. _She_ was the one who'd been abandoned. _She_ was the child. His daughter was the one who needed support. Yet, here he was, so wrapped up in his own bullshit that _she_ was comforting _him_. It shouldn't be this way.

Trucy smiled at him and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, Daddy. Everything will be OK." Then to his mortification, she added, "Daddy, please, don't cry."

"I'm so sorry, Trucy," Phoenix apologized, wiping his eyes. His crying had stopped now. He was uncertain if he was OK, or even stable. He wasn't sure how he felt about a lot of things, but he know this much; he had to get his act together because this little angel was counting on him, and so far all he'd done was let her down. He'd let enough people down, including himself. But not his daughter. _Never again_.

"It's OK, Daddy. I love you," she said.

Fatherhood was a funny thing, Phoenix mused, taking off Trucy's top hat and gently tousling his daughter's silky reddish-brown hair. You didn't just love your kids. You fell _in_ love with them _._ He couldn't believe how much he already loved this child, who up until a few weeks ago had been a stranger to him. For the life of him, he couldn't understand how her father could have abandoned such a precious gem of a daughter, the rat bastard. She was so bright and loving, and smart and pretty. So mature for her age and wise beyond her years. It was so easy to love her.

"I know it's tough for you right now… It's the same for me, my old Mommy and Daddy are gone, too. But crying won't bring them back, and we can get through this together anyway, right? I know your badge was very important to you, and you loved being a lawyer, but I saw an ad for a piano player at the Borscht Bowl, and who knows? Maybe you'll be even better at piano playing than lawyering!"

Phoenix managed to crack a small smile at the irony of it all. _Phoenix Wright, Pianist Extraordinaire_! Wouldn't that be a boot to the head? Oh, how his old friends would have a field day with that one! A pianist, first for play, and now for profit, in the very place they'd witnessed his debut! He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and smiled lovingly at his little girl.

_We are all damaged. We have all been hurt. We have all had to learn painful lessons. We are all recovering from some mistake, loss, betrayal, abuse, injustice or misfortune. All of life is a process of recovery that never ends. We each must find ways to accept and move through the pain and to pick ourselves back up. For each pang of grief, depression, doubt or despair there is an inverse toward renewal coming to you in time. Each tragedy is an announcement that some good shall indeed come in time. Just be patient with yourself, Phoenix._

"Thanks, Truce. It really means a lot to me."

"No problem, Daddy," Trucy beamed. "I believe in you. I will never give up on you. And you wanna know something else? Do you know your friend Mr. Miles? Right before he left, he promised me that he would never give up on you either."

And with those words, the light of his life brightened up the dark, lurching wretchedness that had been weighing down Phoenix's heart.

_Edgeworth, although you and I have crossed each other, we two are destined by the heavens to still end up together in each other's lives. Until then, we must wait and endure any hardship and danger that may come your way. But in the end, I know there will come a day when the two of us will join together to do great things._

The lingering melancholy and remaining sadness slowly melted away, replaced by the first hopeful realization in some time, that maybe, just _maybe_ , he wasn't as alone and downtrodden as he'd thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mariah Carey - Through The Rain


	9. No Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's pain  
> Why do you lock yourself up in these chains?  
> No one can change your life except for you  
> Don't ever let anyone step all over you  
> Just open your heart and your mind  
> Is it really fair to feel this way inside?
> 
> Some day somebody's gonna make you want to  
> Turn around and say goodbye  
> Until then baby are you going to let them  
> Hold you down and make you cry  
> Don't you know?  
> Don't you know things can change  
> Things'll go your way  
> If you hold on for one more day  
> Can you hold on for one more day  
> Things'll go your way  
> Hold on for one more day
> 
> You could sustain  
> Or are you comfortable with the pain?  
> You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness  
> You got yourself into your own mess  
> Lettin' your worries pass you by  
> Don't you think it's worth your time  
> To change your mind?
> 
> Some day somebody's gonna make you want to  
> Turn around and say goodbye  
> Until then baby are you going to let them  
> Hold you down and make you cry  
> Don't you know?  
> Don't you know things can change  
> Things'll go your way  
> If you hold on for one more day  
> Can you hold on for one more day  
> Things'll go your way  
> Hold on for one more day
> 
> I know that there is pain  
> But you hold on for one more day and  
> Break free the chains  
> Yeah I know that there is pain  
> But you hold on for one more day and you  
> Break free, break from the chains
> 
> Some day somebody's gonna make you want to  
> Turn around and say goodbye  
> Until then baby are you going to let them  
> Hold you down and make you cry  
> Don't you know?  
> Don't you know things can change  
> Things'll go your way  
> If you hold on for one more day yeah  
> If you hold on
> 
> Don't you know things can change  
> Things'll go your way  
> If you hold on for one more day  
> If you hold on  
> Can you hold on  
> Hold on baby  
> Won't you tell me now  
> Hold on for one more day 'cause  
> It's gonna go your way
> 
> Don't you know things can change  
> Things'll go your way  
> If you hold on for one more day  
> Can't you change it this time
> 
> Make up your mind  
> Hold on  
> Hold on  
> Baby hold on

_**Maya Fey  
**_ _Kurain Village_ , _Train Station Platform  
_ May 11, 2019, 12:00 PM

_Goddammit, why can't this blasted thing go any faster?_

Maya pressed her nose against the glass window of her carriage, silently willing the perambulator to get moving. She'd been the only one to board the train headed to LA that afternoon at the Kurain Station platform and couldn't fathom what the pesky delay was. She had never been overly patient by nature, but this lagging now, when she was so close to finally being able to get to the bottom of things, was pure agony. And every minute apart from Phoenix these past three weeks had seemed like eons.

She tiredly leaned her head back against her seat and closed her eyes in preparation for the two-hour commute. She'd barely slept a wink since she'd gotten back to LA nine days ago from her Japanese spiritual training, during which it literally appeared she'd been living under a rock for the past two weeks.

When she'd returned and realized that the shit had hit the fan.

The entire time she'd been away in Japan, she had been completely cut off from the rest of the world. Forget cellular reception - there were _no phones_ , let alone cell towers or electricity (read: no radio or TV) in the mountains. The sole way to make communication to the rest of civilization was an hour and a half walk where you could use the one landline phone of the village's sole lodge in the visitor lobby.

_For which there was usually a mile-long tourist line up_ , Maya had noted with aggravation the one or two times she'd made the grueling trek down the steep foothills in the evening after her daily rituals had been completed and she'd been feeling particularly sentimental about wanting to hear her boyfriend's voice. She would have had to call collect too (she could have died of humiliation at the _look_ she'd received when she'd asked the man at the front desk, in her broken Japanese, if they sold 'calling cards' – he'd looked at her as if she'd offered to _take out her samurai sword and shave his butt,_ which, considering how bad her grasp of the language was, may not have been too far-fetched a possibility!) and hope Nick would have accepted the charges – but each time there had been no answer or it'd gone right to voicemail when she'd tried his cell or office line.

Maya had not ever realized how spoiled she'd gotten from Western Hemisphere living. The first few days, she'd woken up completely sore because she was unused to sleeping on a futon, as she was so accustomed to a soft mattress and bed. In Mount Koya, in traditional Japanese style, rooms within the temple were simple, with screened doors, tatami mats and a small altar decorated with a flower or scroll. In her room, which was kerosene heated, a thin yet comfortable mattress was folded away every morning and rolled out again on to the floor in the evening.

The difference in lifestyle had been astounding. Aside from none of the modern conveniences, including electricity, there was the food there to get used to. This meant no meat, dairy or eggs, spices, onions or garlic. The monks in the kitchen only used fruit, tofu, and leaves which could be taken without killing the entire plant that it came from. Essentially, "food made by groovy people only using food that agreed to be in it in the first place". For the past two weeks, the fast-food loving Maya had been dining on tempura, miso soup, vinegary salads, pickles (hold the burger!) something that was a lot like baked beans, a selection of steamed vegetable and a hot pot with glass noodles, tofu, and mushrooms. For dessert, (or at least she'd thought it was dessert) there was some opaque green jelly stuff, with some orange curd and candied peel and strawberries.

The fare she'd dined on was simple, vegetarian, fresh, clean and pure. Full of delicately steamed vegetables with whole grains and light soups, the meals left her feeling so refreshed and cleansed of the strains of daily city life.

* * *

**_Maya Fey  
_** _LAX Airport  
_ May 2, 2019, 3:30 PM

The retreat had left Maya completely detoxed and purified. So of course, it was only natural that after trying to call her boyfriend twice more to no avail, and then checking her phone for the umpteenth time to find, to her disappointment, that there had been no texts, calls or emails from Phoenix in her absence. Not even one sucky, _I miss you_ kind of message, or even a simple, _welcome back_ , the first thing Maya had done once she was back in the Los Angeles airport was head straight to the dining lounge and order the biggest, juiciest burger and greasiest fries available on the restaurant menu.

_This is just what I needed after all that training. I not only deserve it, but I've also **earned** it! Ugh, no more training. I don't ever want to see another waterfall as long as I live._

Making the last moment choice of pure gluttonous indulgence, Maya decided to order extra mayo, bacon, and fried onion rings on top of her burger. When it arrived, she attacked it like it was her last meal on earth, tucking into her food and devouring the huge platter in record time, barely pausing to swallow.

This was probably not the wisest idea. Because to this day she wasn't sure if the immediate queasiness in her stomach almost immediately afterward was due to the shock to her digestive system to be eating such crap after detoxing, or if it was because she happened to look up at the one of the numerous TV's put up in the lounge.

Right in front of her, the headline on the bottom of the screen read, " _New Developments in case of Phoenix Wright, Forging Attorney_."

Maya wondered if the world had suddenly gone slightly tilted, or if it was just her imagination. Her mind reeled. She dropped her pickle and steadied herself on the table with both hands. She felt sick to her stomach and would have bet her life it wasn't from the artery-clogging lard from her Sumo-sized burger. Fighting back nausea, she snatched the lemon wedge that had come with her glass of soda and stuck it in her mouth, sucking hard at the sour juice until the feeling eventually quelled.

The reporter on the screen kept on talking, but the rest of the newscast was muted, and Maya was no lip-reader. There would be no answers for the millions of questions racing through her mind from a silent television, she realized. She spat out the lemon wedge, which she'd unconsciously been gritting in her teeth all this time, and agitatedly fumbled through her bag for her cell. Once again, she rang Phoenix's office number, even though she knew, in her heart of hearts, that the effort would be in vain. The phone just kept on ringing, and this time didn't even go to the answering machine. Thereafter, she tried his cell. It went immediately to his voicemail.

"You've reached Phoenix Wright, attorney at law. I'm sorry I missed your call, but please leave your name, number, and message and I'll get right back to you."

"Nick, where are you?" Maya yelled helplessly. "Please, talk to me! Call me back! I'm worried about you!

Next, she called home. Pearl answered on the first ring.

"Mystic Maya! You're back? I kept trying to call you earlier and I always got your answering machine."

_She must have been trying to call my cell while I was on the plane and it was turned off._ "I'm at the airport, Pearly. Could you please tell me what the hell has been going on in the news since I've been gone?"

"I think Mr. Nick is in trouble, Mystic Maya. I've collected all the newspapers for you since you've been gone. He's been on all the news channels. I even taped some of them on the VCR for you. What's a _… 'forgin turney'?"_

**_The VCR_ ** **?** _The first thing among my Master's duties really needs to be updating the technology we've got back at Kurain Manor!_

"Pearly, we'll chat when I get home. I'm going to skip the train and just take a taxi straight home, so I should be there in about an hour to an hour and a half, OK?"

"OK Mystic Maya. See you soon."

The cost of a taxi from Los Angeles to Kurain Village would surely be murder, but Maya didn't care. One of the few perks of the job title that she'd been bequeathed but never really wanted included an almost limitless supply of disposable income. Who would have thought that an ancient village, while situated in LA but immensely steeped in Japanese culture and tradition, created in the 17th century and modeled after Feudal Japan, (with no cell tower!) would be so steeped in wealth?

She hopped into a cab and made a spur of the moment decision to try to stop by Phoenix's place en route. She hoped he would answer the door, as she had left her office keys back home in Kurain. However, ten frustrating minutes later, having found the gesture to be yet another exercise in futility, she was back in the waiting cab, gently sucking on her poor abused knuckles, which were raw from her repeated impotent banging, coupled with loud hollering, at the office door.

_Dear Lord, please let him be alright_ , she prayed over and over again as the taxi drove on. _Please don't let my Nick be dead._

She sent Phoenix numerous texts, each more frantic than the last, the entire ride home, until reaching Kurain, where her signal died and she could do so no more. The moment the cab dropped her off in front of Fey Manor, Maya ran inside full steam, only to nearly run head-first into her 9-year-old cousin, who'd been waiting in the foyer.

"Welcome back, Mystic Maya!" Pearl squealed, rushing towards her beloved cousin with her arms outstretched.

"Pearly!" Maya gasped breathlessly, quickly returning the effusive hug the tiny spirit medium greeted her with. "Talk to me! You've got to tell me what's been happening with Nick!"

The child apprehensively bit her thumb, and with her free hand, gently tugged Maya down the hallway to her own bedroom. Stacked on top of Pearl's bed were about a dozen or dailies, and in the corner, there was a small television and VCR set up. She handed her cousin the newspaper on the top of the pile and looked at her anxiously as she went to turn the TV on. "I think you should sit down first, Mystic Maya," the little girl advised nervously. "Do you want to read the paper first or see the news?"

Maya didn't reply as she was already too busy reading the front-page story of the first paper. She was aghast when she saw the cover, which read, " _Phoenix Wright, or Phoenix Wrong_?" with a large image of Nick pointing below it. She couldn't believe her eyes; what had he done to get such a horrendous headline? Feeling sickened, all she could do was turn the page. The article started nicely, talking about Phoenix's law career and all his past wins. But then it turned acerbic, saying he forged evidence and presented it in court. He'd been disbarred since then, and nobody had seen him since.

Maya's stomach dropped. A dreadful roaring filled her ears. She looked up, wild-eyed, at the television screen which was now playing one of the news reports on it. A red-headed anchor was speaking. She forced her spinning mind to focus on the rest of what the woman was droning on about.

"This has cast great doubt on all prior trial convictions," the reporter continued. "Phoenix Wright, the former "King of the Turnabout", had built quite the reputation for himself by winning seemingly impossible cases, starting with the murder trial of his former partner and mentor over three years ago. However, with the latest speculations about his questionable tactics now being further scrutinized, dozens of the Forging Attorney's previously resolved cases may prompt further investigation…"

Maya reached for her cellphone, staring down at the lack of service bars and trying not to give in to the overwhelming desire to screech in helpless fury and haul the useless thing across the room.

_The second thing on my Master's to-do list. Install a freaking cell tower!_

There was a landline just outside the house though, and Maya staggered there almost in a daze. She dialed up Phoenix's number, but again, the call went to voicemail. She couldn't bring herself to leave a message, to ask if it was true or not. She could only hang up and hope for him to call back.

Maya plodded back into her house, wondering how quickly she could get a train ticket into town. One usually left every few hours, and she could be there by early afternoon at the soonest. But she had meetings to attend, things that had to be done, and people to lead. She couldn't just skip out on a day or more on a whim. For not the first time, Maya cursed the Master's position, cursed her mother for leaving this mess, cursed her sister for dying and most of all, cursed herself for having inhaled that heart attack on a platter burger. It seemed to be resurfacing in her gut now with an indomitable vengeance that made her wince in discomfort, and she clutched her abdomen.

Had she been given the choice, she would have been happiest continuing to spend her days at the law office as Phoenix's assistant. But because of this accursed titled position she was born into, that she had never aspired for or wanted, she was bloody well stuck!

_In order to capture someone's attention, you must allow them to have the mental and emotional space to let you in. And even though he's dodging me like a stray bullet right now, I don't care! Whether he's too stubborn to admit or not, I **know** Nick **needs** me! He needs more than this damn village does! I have got to get to him. I've got to, I've got to…_

Maya didn't realize the room was keeling as she stabbed at the button of the remote to turn off the offending television before hurling it across the room. It thudded heavily against the wall before clattering noisily to the floor. Her head was pounding, and that pesky nausea she'd experienced at the airport had returned, full-throttle. She needed air.

The new Master fled from Pearl's room at a brisk pace, ignoring the child calling out behind her. Pearl quickly ran behind the fleeing form. The young medium was not entirely sure what was going on, but she knew it was not good. She knew something bad had happened and that "Mr. Nick" was in trouble.

Maya barely made it out of the house before she was violently sick, directly into the bushes right outside the front door.

Pearl looked her anxiously, her little face wreathed in concern as she gently rubbed her cousin's back while she heaved.

"Mystic Maya, are you going to be alright?" She asked worriedly.

"I'm fine!" Maya gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her vision was blurry, and the world still seemed to be spinning. She gripped the porch railing for support to pull herself back up. "Nick, I need to get to Nick!" On shaky legs, she managed to stagger as far as the main hallway before her knees buckled and gave out from underneath her.

Mercifully, Pearl was there to catch her head to keep it from hitting the tile as she collapsed to the ground in a dead faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wilson Phillips - Hold On


	10. Stand By Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wake up and don't want to smile  
> If it takes just a little while  
> Open your eyes and look at the day  
> You'll see things in a different way
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> Why not think about times to come?  
> And not about the things that you've done  
> If your life was bad to you  
> Just think what tomorrow will do
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before,  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> All I want is to see you smile  
> If it takes just a little while  
> I know you don't believe that it's true  
> I never meant any harm to you
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before,  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> Don't stop thinking about tomorrow  
> Don't stop, it'll soon be here  
> It'll be, better than before  
> Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone
> 
> Ooh, don't you look back  
> Ooh, don't you look back  
> Ooh, don't you look back  
> Ooh, don't you look back

**_Miles Edgeworth and Maya Fey  
_** _Kurain Village  
_ May 7, 2019, 9:00 AM

Maya had finally pulled her head out of the toilet long enough to give Edgeworth a quick call. It was a good thing she had called when she had, because he was at the airport, headed to Europe.

"Impeccable timing as always, Miss Fey," Edgeworth said dryly. "Another half hour or more and I may have already been aboard this plan. I'm very happy to at least be able to bid you adieu live, however, if not in person." He went on to explain the details of his departure to her, as well as lamenting about he may not be as phone-accessible going forward for an undetermined about of time due to the secret nature of his mission.

"Mr. Edgeworth, I've spent my past few bed-ridden days praying for death, tending to poor Pearly, who picked up a less severe version of my nasty bug, and catching up on all the news reports and articles about Nick's plight. Since I wasn't around for when it all happened, I'm hoping you can shed some light on how accurate these stories all are?"

"Ahem," coughed Edgeworth, who for once appeared to be floundering for words. He'd grown accustomed to her daily queries about whether or not he'd gotten ahold of Phoenix and was ill-prepared for this particular line of questioning. "Well, there's been quite a bit of propaganda, naturally. You know you can't believe everything these papers say. All spin and embellishment I expect. Recall they also referred to me as the 'Demon Prosecutor?"

"Please be straight with me!" Maya begged. "You don't need to sugarcoat things for my sake, Mr. Edgeworth. I've been ill, yes, but I am not so frail of heart or mind that I can't handle the truth! It's just – I just can't believe that Nick would 'commission a forgery'. He can't even afford it!"

"I, err…" Once again, Edgeworth was at a loss for words, uncomfortable with a discussion about something as personal and confidential as Phoenix's monetary circumstances, even with Maya. Especially now that he'd been privy to seeing firsthand what sort of dire straits his friend was in. "Upon further investigation into the matter, it was undoubtedly suspect that Prosecutor Gavin was able to so speedily summon that 'special witness'."

"I knew it! He's innocent Mr. Edgeworth, I just know it!" Maya insisted.

Edgeworth was silent on the other end of the line. Via his fiancée, he'd had been able to garner further information that Prosecutor Gavin had taken and followed instructions from some unknown third-party, but it was probably gossip. Or maybe it wasn't. One thing was apparent. The requirement to 'pull strings' on Wright's behalf had conspired at a thoroughly inconvenient time.

"So it would seem our dear, naïve Wright walked unsuspectingly into a trap. Which was foolish and careless, but not worth career and reputation annihilation," murmured Edgeworth, more to himself.

"It appears so," sighed Maya.

Edgeworth took a breath. "Listen, Miss Fey, this is highly confidential information. I _don't_ want you telling Wright. I will try to resolve Wright's situation, but I'm currently constrained from much influence in the District Justice Department. It seems the ruthless Prosecutor Gavin was alerted to my recent day of unlicensed criminal _defense_ and has instigated an inquiry _._ If Wright finds out he'll blame himself. He's got enough on his plate now as it is."

"Oh no!" Maya was near tears. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Edgeworth. You don't deserve this crap. You were only trying to help Nick and me." A headache was slowly threatening to consume her.

 _Worst conceivable timing!_ Seethed Edgeworth. He _had_ planned to lie low overseas and indirectly exert his influence to diffuse the 'Day 1 _State vs Iris_ ' matter, among other matters, while he was away. He did _not_ tell Maya of his fears of a worst-case scenario – the court proceedings somehow being ruled invalid, and a _re_ -trial, forcing Maya to again testify about what must have been one of the most harrowing incidents of her life. Edgeworth vividly recalled his own horrors – and subsequent years of nightmares – of having had a parent murdered before his very eyes, and _he_ hadn't even _seen_ the moment of death properly. With any luck, Mr. Armando's existing confession had already conclusively proven the verdict, even with supposed 'defense corruption.'

However, with the recent 'reforms' of new Prosecutor Gavin, you could never tell. The kid was a punk, 17-years-old, with a bug up his butt and a need to have something to prove. The rock-star/prosecutor wasn't old enough to realize strong-arm tactics weren't the only way to establish your name and were too damn young to know any better. Edgeworth would have been happy to 'school' the lad himself, had this across-continental duty not called first!

"I'll be alright," Edgeworth assured Maya. The poor girl was going through enough right now without having to carry the burden of this knowledge with her as well. "Repercussions, if any, will be slight for me, given my otherwise exemplary work history with the Bar and because I still have some friends in high places. Honestly, Miss Fey, getting called abroad is perhaps a blessing in disguise. If I'm out of sight, it also means I shall be out of mind, even though I can still do some digging around into these matters in the background while I'm over there. I promised Wright, and now you, that I will do all that I can."

 _I have no ideas on why blessings always wear disguises! If I were a blessing, I'd run around naked!_ Maya thought wildly, who while grateful for the sworn aid from her steadfast friend, was loathe that he had to depart when she and Phoenix needed him most. She then switched over to more customary conversation, her voice hopeful.

"So, does that mean that you _have_ talked to Nick?"

"If you had contacted me with that question last night, immediately post altercation with Wright, my reply to you would have been 'good luck with him, he's entirely your problem now', Miss Fey," Edgeworth's tone was both sardonic and wry. "Or even half an hour before you called. However, our beleaguered friend rang me thirty minutes before you did to wish me a good trip. So hence, my reply to you, Miss Fey, is he is indeed alive, moving about of his own free will, and…"

His voice trailed off then. He had zero desire to recount the details of his final visit nor recent conversation with his best friend to anyone just yet, any more than he wanted to disclose what Phoenix's intentions towards the girl who so desperately loved him were. That was neither his place nor his business, and he cared too much about Maya to be the one to tell her that the Phoenix Wright he'd seen and spoken to, who although had somewhat patched things up with _him_ so that he wouldn't be going away with too many regrets about things left unsaid, was nowhere near the man he used to be. He was doubtful the outcome of any conversation Maya would have with Phoenix would be pleasant or resolving, but he truly hoped he was wrong.

"If you can catch that stubborn mule of a man unawares, he'll have no choice but to speak to you," Edgeworth finished lamely. "When do you think Wright will have his next visitor? As you know, I shall be stuck in Europe henceforth. And I expect that you have pressing priorities in Kurain?"

"No," countered Maya, mental bounds to her Master duties immediately dissolving. "I'll go and speak to him very shortly. In-person. The doctor said I should be well enough, and no longer walking a human contagion, within the next few days." She was relieved that Edgeworth was too polite to ask her why she hadn't gone to try to see Phoenix yet herself. Somehow she doubted he'd want to hear the traumatizing truth: _I couldn't go see my boyfriend because I didn't want to subject his already browbeaten ass with the bug I'd caught, which resulted in making horror-movie worthy stuff come up - and out!- of me, at **both ends**?_

"Good," breathed Edgeworth, momentarily slipping his facade of 'emotional detachment'.

"I'll contact you after I've talked to him," Maya promised as she decisively tore the offending newspaper article in her lap to shreds.

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey  
_** _Los Angeles_ , _Train Station Platform_  
May 11, 2019, 2:10 PM

Maya had blamed her fast-food choice for her plight, but she was wrong. Instead of just good-old-fashioned food-poisoning, which she'd had fervently hoped for, instead, it turned out she had come up with a ferocious case of stomach flu as a memento of her Far East travels. It knocked her flat on her ass and left her dehydrated, depleted of any and all energy, and barely able to move for the next week. The village doctor who had paid her a house-call had said he'd never seen such a severe case and told Maya it could have been anything from the unfiltered water she'd been consuming to some nasty germs she'd picked up trying to use the contaminated public phone at the lodge. The key thing was that she was highly contagious and essentially quarantined in her room until the nasty bug had run its course.

She was as weak and helpless as a newborn and confined to bed the entire week. She couldn't even move to pen a letter, never mind rise up to make a phone call. Absolutely nothing stayed down. All she could do was take sips of water and whatever herbal teas and homemade broths – hold the noodles – the village Elders made for her. Maya had always been slim, but as a result of her illness, she had lost close to ten pounds, leaving her with dark circles under her eyes, gaunt in the face, pale as a ghost, and looking like shit run over twice.

Her only bit of relief had been her phone call to Edgeworth four days prior when she'd finally been able to drag herself outside her house to use the phone, and he'd confirmed that the love of her life was neither dead nor confined in police custody. She replayed the details of that last conversation she'd had with her friend as she hopped into a cab, instructing the driver to take her to Phoenix's law office.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**  
_ _Wright Talent Agency_  
May 11, 2019, 2:30 PM

Phoenix sat laggardly on the couch downstairs in his office, feigning oblivion to the insistent loud knocking on the door. Since Trucy was still at school and her bus wasn't due to drop her back for another couple of hours and he was in no mind-frame to see or speak to anyone, he ignored it as he had all of the other times, even as he resisted the urge to scream, _Get Lost! We don't want any!_

He was in no mood to be dealing with pesky reporters, discuss which God was his personal savior, or reject the latest dirt sucking piece of vacuuming technology at the moment.

However, after the briefest sound of keys jangling into the lock, the door flung open to reveal neither a nosy media member, bothersome Jehovah's Witness nor irksome salesman, but his girlfriend.

The village leader pulled the door open to find the lights out and the shades were drawn. The last stray beams of greying light poured through the windows and fell on a despondent figure collapsed on the couch. On it sat Phoenix, his head down and several glass bottles were strewn around him. Maya stepped inside, flicked on the light switch, and shut the door behind her. She stood there in stunned disbelief at the sight of her formerly handsome, well-groomed, professionally-suited boyfriend, now looking completely unrecognizable in his bedraggled, homeless bum sweatsuit.

He instinctively turned his head towards his unwelcome guest but then dropped it back at the ground, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Maybe he could will her away if he refused to acknowledge her presence long enough. Having Maya seeing him like this was a nightmare come true. His hopes were in vain, however, as he listened to her footsteps drawing nearer to him until he could sense her standing right in front of him.

"Nick." Her voice was soft. "What happened?"

Her boyfriend did not respond.

Maya knelt beside him and took his hand. He shifted slightly as if he registered her touch, but his eyes still wouldn't meet hers.

"Nick, _please_. I'll believe what you say. I don't believe them."

More silence.

"Nick…I love you. And I will do whatever I can to keep my promise to you. Talk to me."

"I… I didn't know," croaked Phoenix. "I really didn't know." His gaze finally met Maya's. His haunted gaze chilled her with their glazed, vacant expression; too much reminiscent of those of Mia and her mother after they had died.

The diviner squeezed his hand, and with her free one, gently stroked his cheek, gazing at him with compassionate orbs, the words in her heart reflected within the mocha depths as they locked onto his.

_Nick, when I say, 'I love you' it means that no matter what, waking up to you would be my idea of the perfect morning. It means that no matter what, sleeping next to you would be my idea of a perfect night. It means that I want to keep waking up to you, each and every morning and each and every transition from fall to summer. When I say, 'I love you' it means that I can picture what a future looks like with you. And it means that I want one. With only you. So, please, do not take those three words with a grain of salt. Don't shrug at me, or smile a sly little smile. Acknowledge my love. Feel it. Accept it. And if you feel the same, then take my heart with yours. When I say, 'I love you', I mean it. I'm not saying it just to make you happy. I'm not saying it to be romantic. I'm not saying it because I feel like I have to, or because I feel like there's a deadline I have to reach. 'I love you' means that I want to spend hours talking with you at midnight. It means that I want to grow old with you and still call you perfect even when your wrinkles start to show. It means that even if we end, my love won't dim. My love for you will never end. So when I say that to you, please believe me. And when you are ready to say it back to me, only say it when you truly mean it. Only say it when you believe in me too._

As Phoenix's pained eyes met his soul mate's unconditional loving gaze, it was at that moment that everything sank in, with no spoken words required.

And within that same instant, he realized instinctively that _she_ , at least, not only loved him but _believed_ in him, just as he'd always believed in her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fleetwood Mac - Don't Stop


	11. Here And Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One look in your eyes and there I see  
> Just what you mean to me  
> Here in my heart I believe  
> Your love is all I'll ever need  
> Holdin' you close through the night  
> I need you, yeah
> 
> I look in your eyes and there I see  
> What happiness really means  
> The love that we share makes life so sweet  
> Together we'll always be  
> This pledge of love feels so right  
> And, ooh, I need you
> 
> Here and now  
> I promise to love faithfully (Faithfully)  
> You're all I need  
> Here and now  
> I vow to be one with thee (You and me), hey  
> Your love is all (I need) I need
> 
> Say, yeah, yeah...
> 
> When I look in your eyes, there I'll see  
> All that a love should really be  
> And I need you more and more each day  
> Nothin' can take your love away  
> More than I dare to dream  
> I need you
> 
> Here and now  
> I promise to love faithfully (Faithfully)  
> You're all I need  
> Here and now  
> I vow to be one with thee (You and me), yeah  
> Your love is all I need
> 
> (Starting here) Ooh, and I'm starting now  
> I believe (I believe in love), I believe  
> (Starting here) I'm starting right here  
> (Starting now) Right now because I believe in your love  
> So I'm glad to take the vow
> 
> Here and now, oh  
> I promise to love faithfully (Faithfully)  
> You're all I need  
> Here and now, yeah  
> I vow to be one with thee (You and me), yeah  
> Your love is all I need
> 
> I, hey...yeah...yeah...hey...  
> Uh, hey...  
> I-I, love is all I need  
> Ooh...ooh...yeah...  
> Yeah...yeah...hey...yeah...yeah...  
> Love is all I need  
> Ooh...ooh...  
> Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah  
> Oh  
> Hey...yeah  
> Hey...yeah...

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_** __  
Wright Talent Agency  
May 11, 2019, 3:00 PM

As Maya attempted to come to sit down on the sofa, Phoenix heard her foot accidentally hit one of his empty bottles, which were tossed listlessly on the ground by his feet. It noisily scattered across the wooden floor.

"What the –?" She got up again, picked up all the empties, and threw them into the trash, examining one of the labels closely as she did so.

"Since when are you such an avid fan of grape juice, Nick?" She arched an amused eyebrow at her boyfriend.

"It was my choice of wannabe poison after you and Pearl left for Kurain a few months ago. It's what I used to drown my lonely sorrows away in at the bar back then…now it's just force of habit, OK?" Phoenix scowled. "Ya, I know, how lame am I, right? I can't even be an alcoholic properly."

Maya bit her cheeks to keep from laughing.

"It may have been _slightly_ less lame if you were chugging back root beer…at least that's got the name _beer_ in it, right?"

Phoenix reluctantly cracked a smile. "Well, I wasn't about to become fixated on _real_ alcohol, Maya! You know that costs extra!"

Maya set the bottle back into the garbage, came over, and sat down on the couch.

"I don't believe that's the reason you're not getting into the heavier spirits, Nick. I think it's because ultimately, you're made of stronger stuff than that. In the end, you know that you're better than regressing into some cheap, low-life drunk."

"You have _got_ to take me off this freakin' pedestal you've got me on, Maya," he scoffed. You're not a kid anymore – you're a grown woman now. It's high time to take off the rose-colored glasses and realize what your so-called hero has actually become."

The words stung like a slap. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

"Come on, Nick, tell me what really happened."

"You being here means you _damn_ well know what happened!"

"I only know what I heard on the news, Nick. And what I read in the papers – all terrible lies that I know aren't true."

"Then what else do you need to know?" He let out a humorless laugh. "After all, the news would _never_ lie to the public now, would they?"

" _Please_ , Nick." Maya reached for his hand again. He stiffened but didn't pull away. "Forget anything else that's ever happened between us and just talk to me…as your best friend. That's what we were before anything else happened. It's what we _still_ are if nothing else. _Talk to me_."

Phoenix finally looked at her with expressionless, dead eyes.

"If you're my _best_ friend, you'll _respect_ my need for privacy then. I want you to leave while you still have all your illusions of me, of the man I used to be, intact. I don't want to shatter your ideal image of me that I can no longer live up to. Just… just go." He put his head back down.

The psychic could not have been more pained than if he had physically struck her. The love of her life, after taking her virtue, had decided that she'd been worth nothing more than a weekend of bed-warming. And then, when the chips were down, he preferred complete solitude than any sort of comfort or anything she had to offer him and had practically told her to walk out of his life. Never in all the years, she'd known him had he said anything like this. It was like a stab to the heart.

Maya stepped back from the sofa and clutched her locket, biting back the sob threatening to build up in her chest.

"Nick, why would you say such a thing to me? Do you blame me for not being there when this all happened? I wanted to come as soon as I got back from Japan, but then Pearly and I got really sick with a contagious stomach bug I picked up over there and I was completely bedridden… but I hope you don't feel like I trying to delay seeing you or neglecting you. Why are you being like this?"

Phoenix turned an eye to her without looking up again.

"Sorry. I'm not very good company at the moment, Maya. I'm just... not a fan of anyone or anything at present. I hate myself, my life, the whole damn world right now. Please go."

Maya had opted to forgo giving him hell for ignoring all her calls and messages. And considering the immediate circumstances that had occurred right afterward, she didn't want to bring up the subject of how he'd never contacted her after they'd been together as if she were some random hookup he'd met in a bar, even though it still had hurt terribly. But she couldn't brush it all aside entirely. Instead, she somehow managed to utter the words through the lump in her throat.

"How could you tell me you loved me just last month, and then push me away like this? You're breaking my heart, Nick."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to deal with the pain, which he himself had been forced to endure the past few weeks but found the words dying in his throat as he saw the tears sparkling in her beautiful dark eyes. His heart just wouldn't allow him to do it. He couldn't intentionally be cruel to the woman he loved.

"If I tell you what happened," he allowed. "Will you leave right after?"

_She shouldn't be here, anyway. What if Trucy had been here when she'd gotten here? How on earth would I be able to explain that?!_

Maya leaned down to study his face, which was partially hidden by an atrocious aqua beanie.

_Note to self – lecture him about his hobo fashion sense at a later date._

"I don't understand. Why are you so eager to get rid of me? I get that you're angry about all this. I know how much your job meant to you and that you must be worried about how you're going to pay the bills." There was absolutely no way she could just disappear back to the village and leave Phoenix unemployed and in the lurch. "So…I'm going to pay the rent until you become a lawyer again," she spontaneously declared.

"Maya, there's no way I'm going to leech off you."

"Consider this my repayment then, for the hole I ate in your wallet all these years with my burger consumption. I can afford to do this, really. I'm Master of Kurain now, Nick. I get a cut of the budget and everything!" Her tone left no room for rebuttal.

His tenacious beauty was so stubborn. So tenacious. So… _wonderful_. Phoenix wondered if it was possibly illegal how much he loved her. And he did, so damn much, despite using every tactic in the book to get her to leave. She was going to be shattered when he told her the truth about why he couldn't see her anymore.

"Well, it's true, I can't afford to keep renting this," the ex-lawyer admitted, indicating the office. Mia's original practice had performed well, and it wasn't in too bad a part of town. "I'm only paid up until the end of this month."

"You see? You've got to let me help! And I… I can't just let you throw away Mia's old practice," Maya reasoned, attempting to justify her generosity. "I mean, then later we'd have to open with a new address. What a pain in the arse _that_ would be!"

Realizing she wasn't about to budge on her unmovable stance, Phoenix, at last, retold the story of his final trial. Maya listened intently, her face unable to suppress her despair as she absorbed all the gory details about the forged diary page, the mysterious little girl who had given him, the vanishing defendant, and the 'convenient' surprise witness who had put the final nail in the coffin.

"So, as you see, it's a pure case of _my_ complete idiocy," he finished flatly. " _Meā culpā_. There's nobody to blame but me." He buried his head in his hands again.

"I'm so sorry, Nick. If only I had been there. I could have…"

"Don't blame yourself," the new father told her. "There was nothing you could have done. I just took the bait; hook, line, and sinker."

Maya sighed, and gently stroked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed her palm, holding it against his unshaven stubble, reveling in the softness of her skin, before tugging at her hand and pulling her onto his lap. She nestled into him and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat before speaking up.

"We'll get through this together, Nick. We can fix this, somehow I know we can!"

"My love, it's not that easy. There's more to it than just this legal mess. There's a reason I was telling you to go. I don't think I'll be able to see you for some time."

The necromancer jerked up from her cuddled position on his lap and looked at him in disbelief. She would have thought he had to be joking, if not for the authenticity of his somber, pained expression.

" _What? Why?_ " She gasped.

"You know that little girl I told you about, Trucy? Well, I decided to look after when her father took off on her. I had to work extra hard to fight for the right to adopt her. I had to go through a sea of paperwork and have home inspections and I had to be evaluated, which is on-going and nowhere near completed."

Maya looked around the office, and for the first time, noticed the scattered magician's props littering the place that she'd overlooked when she'd first entered. She had a sinking feeling she knew where this conversation was going, but she was so happy to be back in Phoenix's arms for the moment that she didn't want to rush the conversation, even though she knew, deep down, that she should cherish the sensation of being so close to him because it would be ending soon.

"Evaluated?" She echoed.

His next words confirmed her worst suspicions.

"Yeah, like an interview for parenthood. They have an incessant need to dig for skeletons in the closet. You know, anything that might make you less than an ideal parent."

"Well, I'm sure they were hard-pressed to find anything on you."

"Other than the fact that I present forged evidence in court and have been disbarred?"

"Right. I forget people think that's for real."

There was no doubt Maya's mind that Phoenix had been set up. While she was surprised that her normally sharp boyfriend had so badly slipped up – had it been simply being sloppy on that case or had his luck run out? – She felt terrible about it. She couldn't help but feel if she'd been there, maybe she would have made him take a closer look at that mysterious diary page, picked up on something and saved him from this misery. But she hadn't been there and what was done was done. One little mistake and his life had been sent in a completely new direction. It wasn't fair that a man so dedicated to his work and devoted to proving the innocence of his clients should have it all taken away from him. She'd have done anything to help him earn his badge back.

"You and Trucy are the only ones who think I'm innocent, Maya. I mean, Edgeworth says he'll help, and he says he believes me but…anyway." He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Anyway, at one of these child safety evaluations they asked me about you."

"Oh? Why would they do that? We don't live together anymore. And now with me being Kurain Master, I'm barely going to get to see you."

_Alas, my love, you have no idea just **how barely** that's going to be…dammit just tell her, Phoenix! Rip off that Band-Aid and stop reveling in the feeling of her in your arms, since you sure as hell won't be able to get used to it!_

"Well, I was adopting a little girl and they wanted to know the nature of our relationship because you were only about what, 16, 17, when you started working for me? An under-aged minor, regardless. And there were suspicions and rumors…"

"But you set them straight?" The horror of what he was saying slowly began to dawn on her. "You told them the truth that nothing happened? I mean for heaven's sake you didn't even _kiss_ me until I was legal drinking age!"

"Of course, and then I had to renounce us and claim I didn't have feelings for you; that you and I are like brother and sister, just pals." Phoenix had been unable to look directly at her while he said the ugly words, but he turned his head towards her now, an agonized look on his mien. "Oh, Maya! I _lied!_ I'm so sorry! I had no choice!"

He buried his face in her shoulder.

"Nick, it's alright," Maya soothed, taking the opportunity to take off the hated hat and stroking his soft hair, running her fingers over the beloved, familiar spikes, which miraculously hadn't flattened despite the tightness of the beanie. "There's nothing to forgive. I understand."

"I hate this!" The disbarred attorney's voice was muffled against her neck as he spoke. "I hate myself for having to lie about you! I had to deny the love of my life! I _had_ to … just so that wretched old biddy of a social worker wouldn't think I was some kind of pervert; like I wanted to groom a little girl to become…"

He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Nick, it's OK. Calm down." Maya's voice was firm. She pulled up his head and looked him directly in the eye. "Tell me, what are the challenges of this case?"

Despite her take-charge demeanor, Phoenix saw the wretched empathy and love mingling in her expression. More than anything in the world all he wanted to do was bury his lips against hers and forget about his plight, even temporarily. But he needed to focus right now. His eyes were red, but he managed a small grin. Talking in pseudo-legal terms helped put things into a clearer perspective for him.

"Well, I have a daughter who is not fully, legally mine. These processes take God knows how long…and one of the conditions of her remaining with me is I appear of upstanding moral fiber. In other words, I don't fall in love or have sex with my employees who were living with me while underage."

"Right, the fact we're like this now would cast doubt on your previous testimony that nothing was going on, even though it was true. For the most part anyway."

_That night of my birthday notwithstanding…_

"This is why we can't see each other right now, my love. I've been taking the coward's path and dodging you by not returning your calls because I couldn't stand to tell you the ugly truth. I've had a difficult enough time dealing with it myself. It's a relief that Trucy's at school right now. I wouldn't know how to explain who you are to her. And I really don't want Trucy to have to lie about us. I can't see how teaching her to lie is being a good role model for her." Phoenix looked absolutely miserable. "Maya, I can't choose between you two. I _can't_."

Her eyes widened as she realized this is what he'd been fretting over, the big dope! He should have known that she would never tell him to give his daughter up, but he'd been worried that he wouldn't have a choice. The poor child didn't deserve to grow up without parents. Maya knew firsthand what that was like and wouldn't have wished that on anyone, especially since she could see some traces of the old Phoenix whenever he spoke of Trucy. The grumpy, apathetic persona withered away, replaced by some of his former spark and vigor, which used to be directed for his work. If all of that was going to be directed now at Trucy, at fatherhood, so be it. Perhaps it was for the best for him to have somebody to look after…or rather, have somebody look after _him_. To give him a purpose in life and be there for him, because right now, it appeared that the cruel hand of fate dictated that _she_ couldn't be able to.

"Of course not, Trucy needs you."

Phoenix finally took the opportunity to take in the kind, understanding, compassionate woman he was cradling in this lap as if seeing her for the first time. Her silky raven hair was down, just as it'd been the night of her party, and rather than her regular robes, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, although her ethereal face was free of makeup, which he'd never thought was needed. She had such a natural beauty, one that in adulthood rivaled even that of her late sister's. He had always loved the scent of her vanilla perfume, but noticed today, despite being scent-free, she smelled just as wonderful. Like lavender soap, and pine needles and fresh air. She was everything he'd ever wanted. The thought of being apart from her, he realized now, gutted him more than the loss of his badge ever could.

"I don't know how long this whole process will take, Maya," he expressed mournfully. "I don't know how long we'll have to be apart. It could be months…or even years. I can't be a selfish bastard and expect you to wait for me."

She looked at him steadily. He was her soulmate. And while she wanted to be with him all the time, she knew their time perhaps wasn't now. But she also knew they had endured so much together already, that this was merely a storm that would surely pass. There was no one else for her. Phoenix Wright was worth waiting for.

"But what if I _want_ to, Nick?"

His eyes dropped from hers.

"You can't put your life on hold for me like that, Maya! You… you are _so_ young! You have your own life, and you have your responsibilities and me… I'm too much of a mess right now to be anything to anybody right now. My daughter has to be my priority."

"Nick, like you said earlier, I'm a grown woman now," she reminded him, trying not to let her voice break. "Which means I can make my own decisions."

Phoenix let out a defeated sigh.

"So, there's nothing I can do or say to get you to walk out that door right now and make this all be nothing but a distant memory to you?"

"Not a damn thing, Nick. I love you." Her lip began to quiver. "I believe in you. And I will wait for you. Forever, if I have to."

"I love you too." He tenderly wiped a tear from her eye with his thumb. "They say anything worth having is worth waiting for."

"I thought it was worth _fighting_ for?"

"You're worth that and more, Maya Fey. I promise I will do everything in my power to ensure that I am a man who will be worth the wait. And even though you're going to be taken away from me for a while, I swear to you from this day on, you'll always be here in my heart. Now and forevermore."

Phoenix brushed her hair out of her face, shaking his head at this willful, obstinate, firecracker of a girl who loved him more than he deserved, even as he relented and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

The Master stared up at him with sorrowful eyes.

_I see you. I do. I see the hidden pain in those eyes. It has sat there for what seems like a lifetime, trapped in the confusion we all carry. I see love too, the love you would have given were it not for the scars. It's still there, baby, and one day I will set you free. I'm not perfect, yet I love you, and I know what love means. Give me a chance to find my feet, to stop my own head from spinning and I'll prove it. There is so much of your life that is hell for your soul, and you stay there from strength rather than weakness I know. So, let me join you in that pain, walk with you, feel the same torture I know you bare. And one day I'll find just the right way to bring you home, my love._

"I don't want to complicate your decision," she whispered.

"You already have."

He then kissed her so softly, it was like a breeze on her mouth. Then he closed his eyes and reached for her, letting her ease him back on the couch. His hands closed over her face, holding her as they kissed, his heart beating so intensely, he could feel all his pulse points throbbing. He just wanted to lie there forever, holding her, trusting her. Loving her.

Closing her eyes, her fingers sank into his hair and she pulled his lips tighter against hers, sinking into the kiss, dizzy with the pure bliss of it. The kiss was filled with all the aching love and bittersweetness that spoke more words than either of them could possibly say right then.

She tried to memorize the feel of his lips, the pressure of his arm on her back, the texture of his spikes as if he was going to disappear again as soon as the kiss was over. Phoenix pulled her closer as she wrapped her arms around him. When his touch turned electric, she didn't stop him, even though logically she knew she should have pushed him away. She didn't want this to be good-bye, but if this was going to be their farewell of any sort, it needed to be now, while she could still breathe through the tightness in her chest.

She turned her face up to his, but her half-felt protest became a moan of surrender as he flipped them over so she was now pinned beneath him on the sofa, driving his mouth down on hers with a hungry kiss which splintered her senses. For an instant, she was too surprised to react. She inhaled the warm, musky scent that always reminded her of him, the sensation acting like a powerful drug within her. She felt the strength in his arms and the sleek power of his body.

She could also feel the evidence of his desire against the fabric of his pants as he pressed against her. That vibration ricocheted through her, raising her heart rate, making her tremble with need. Glorious heat pooled low in her stomach, and down to her throbbing core. He moved one of his hands to the base of her neck, fingertips circling through the short hairs there. He applied just enough pressure to keep her head tilted back. She was breathing heavily now, staring up at him as he stared down at her. Right now, it was all about forgetting their painful reality and just momentarily savoring and living out their passions.

His eyes focused on her lips, and involuntarily, her tongue came out to wet them. The distance between their lips disappeared as his mouth found hers. She wove her fingers into his thick, dark hair, holding him to her. She parted her lips, inviting him inside, wanting the taste of him on her breath, filling her lungs. He accepted the invitation, deepening their kiss, flooding her senses.

One of his hands remained pressed under her back, keeping their clothed bodies locked in tortured limbo, while the other wandered over her hair, her cheek, caressing the length of her neck. Abandoning her mouth, he kissed and nipped along her jaw. She took in deep gulps of air between the moans and whimpers. When his teeth scraped roughly down her neck—which was one giant erogenous zone – she forgot to breathe, swallowing her shout and bucking against him, aching for him to join them together. Taste, touch, smell, sound, sight, every bit of her was full of Phoenix. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do to hold on to this perfect moment with the man she loved.

Their clothing drifted away so they lay together, bare flesh pressed against one another. Less clothing meant less of a barrier, meant more skin against skin, and meant infinitely more pleasure.

His hands smoothed down the length of her spine, molding her to him. Hard against soft, his stiffness burrowed into her stomach, and she wished she could grow a foot, ease both their aches by notching him against her where they both wanted him to be.

Her body had never reacted like this before, never crested so high so fast. Now Maya _needed_ to have him penetrate her. Wanted Phoenix to be one with her, fill her, mate with her until the only thing between their bodies was their comingled heated sweat. She drank in his labored breath as his panting mouth feasted hungrily against her own, knowing he was aching to join them as desperately as she was. It was a heady feeling, to desire and be desired in return. It didn't matter if they had no tomorrows – they had the here and now. Here and now was about forgetting their painful reality and just momentarily savoring and living out their passions. Powerless to stop the insatiable need to be as close to him as possible, she threw all safeguards to the wind and surrendered herself to the blissful abandonment of being one with him again.

"I need you, Nick," she gasped and cried out when he finally obliged and once again, made her his.

They made love with tears in both their eyes, just as they had their first time, only this time it was for different reasons. They clung to each other through the aching poignancy of it all as they tried to block out their sorrows and the cruelties of rest of the world, and focused on nothing but one another with what precious little time they had. His hands smoothed down the length of her spine, molding her to him, as his fingers dug deep as he pulled her even closer, leaving impressions in her flesh, fingerprints in her memory that would never fade.

Her nails dug into his skin. Her movements beneath him increased even more. The couch began to be jerked across the floor. She threw her head back, yelping from the back of her throat and buried her face under his jaw. He felt his own release cresting through him. It blocked his senses in a sizzling white noise. A purity of pleasure and nothingness. She screamed against his neck as she clamped firmly around him, and he felt his own cry echoing hers involuntarily.

Afterward, convinced he was doing the right thing and that it had nothing to do with how damn bad he had wanted to feel her soft body pressed against him, Phoenix wrapped his arms around her. She sighed, settling into his embrace, fitting against him, her head tucked beneath his chin like they'd come together this way a hundred times before. His hands had a mind of their own, stroking the silky length of her hair, kneading circles into her back. The subtle scent of floral shampoo and clean, beautiful woman filled every breath and he inhaled deeply, taking that small part of her inside as Maya lay there contentedly in his arms, and remained quite still, relaxed against him, mingling into him. He let himself go from past and future, was reduced to basking within the moment with her, in which he took her and was with her and there was nothing beyond. They were together in an elemental embrace that they both wanted to cherish for as long as they could.

Each moment spent with her convinced him that maybe, someday, she really could be his.

A part of him felt it was wrong to let her go on caring and loving him so much when he didn't even know when he would ever be able to set eyes on her again once she walked away from there. Perhaps that was why he had been driven to be with her for what might have been their last time. He didn't want to allow himself to be distracted by such bleak thoughts. He did not want to lose her. If there were any way to keep her after all this was over, he would move heaven and earth to ensure he could to find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luther Vandross – Here and Now


	12. Ebony And Ivory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If you're struggling, you deserve to make self-care a priority. Whether that means lying in bed all day, eating comfort food, putting off homework, crying, sleeping, rescheduling plans, finding an escape through a good book, watching your favorite tv show, or doing nothing at all — give yourself permission to put your healing first. Quiet the voice telling you to do more and be more, and today, whatever you do, let it be enough. Feel your feelings, breathe, and be gentle with yourself. Acknowledge that you're doing the best you can to cope and survive. And trust that during this time of struggle, it's enough."

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
Wright Talent Agency_  
May 12, 2019, 11:30 AM

Phoenix didn't get to mope over the loss of Maya for too long. There had barely been time to press one last kiss onto her sweet lips before, to both their heartaches, she'd had to leave or risk being spotted. She'd managed to scamper out of his apartment with only a few moments to spare before Trucy had come bounding up the stairs at 4:00 on the dot from the school bus, which dropped her off right outside the building.

Normally he met his daughter outside at the bus stop and dropped her off there, every morning. However, right after Maya's hasty retreat, he'd been too busy getting re-dressed and straightening out his clothing. The most time-consuming task had been trying to tuck his wildly disheveled hair, which was seemingly irreparable from Maya's madly roving fingers, back into the beanie hat Trucy had made for him, making sure the yellow smiley face and pink letters spelling 'Papa' was displayed in their usual fashion.

Luckily, the bubbly little girl had been so breathlessly excited about sharing the news of her classmates' delighted reactions to her wooden marionette, Mr. Hat, during the show and tell that day that she hadn't seemed to notice that anything was awry with her Daddy. The only comment she'd made was that she was glad to see him smiling somewhat that day, even if his eyes still looked a little sad.

That morning, Phoenix had gone through his daily fatherly routine with his daughter as if he'd been doing so for ages, rather than mere days. While he was focused on making sure Trucy finished her cereal for breakfast and ensured she brushed her teeth and was washed up in time to take her to the bus stop, he did these actions as if on autopilot. His mind was entirely elsewhere.

The conversation he'd had with Maya, speaking out loud in detail of his adoptive situation with his daughter, had definitely helped put things into perspective. If he was going to be able to put food more substantial than empty-calorie, nutritionally unsound, sugary cereals and Chinese noodles into Trucy's belly, he needed to step off his self-pity wagon, get off his duff and _get a damn job_ to support himself and his growing little girl.

And regardless of how good he'd been, and how much he'd enjoyed creating caricatures back when he was in art school, being a street artist was hardly a pragmatic way to make a living. With his luck, his attempt to cash in on his meager drawing skills would end up with them demoting their diets down from Eldoon's savory noodles to instant ramen noodles, in the manner of Dick Gumshoe!

But where to begin? Career choices were slim pickings for disbarred former attorneys. He wasn't qualified for any non-lawyer related office work with daytime hours that he could do while Trucy was at school. His clerical skills were pitiful; he was a hunt and finger pecking, two-fingered typist and was nowhere up to snuff where he should have been for office software programs to be effective in administration. That had been why he'd had an office assistant in the first place! (God he missed his Maya!) Short of email and web browsing, Phoenix simply wasn't a tech-savvy sort of guy; in this modern era of Smart Phones, he still had his ancient Dumb Phone; a basic flip-style cell with the _Steel Samurai_ ringtone that Maya had put on it back in the day. He kept it as such for two simple reasons – partial nostalgia of happier times with the woman he loved, and secondly, because he had no inkling (nor desire to learn) how to change it!

He couldn't work in a store. They'd assume an alleged forger was also a thief who would pilfer their merchandise and make off with their wares in the middle of the night. As it was, his hobo appearance made the convenience store clerks look at him with trepidation, and had the cashiers at the supermarket eye him with clear suspicion that he wasn't smuggling an unpaid-for item under his bulky sweatshirt. He'd seen the misgiving in their accusing eyes when he'd scrounged up the change to buy milk and bread for Trucy and coffee for himself that morning after dropping his daughter off at the stop. It was downright insulting.

Should he ever plot to steal anything, it would be stuff _much_ cooler and valuable than produce! Hell, if Phoenix Wright ever chose the criminal path, he'd opt for a full-blown, _Ocean's Eleven_ film-style heist!

Back at his apartment, he munched at his peanut butter sandwich, which was to suffice as his lunch and hopefully dinner as he perused the want ads in that day's paper. Nothing. Not a damn thing.

He didn't want to sell Avon or Mary Kay catalog cosmetics. But what a kick Edgeworth would get if Phoenix opted to actually sell enough of the stuff to get that company bubblegum pink car though, _especially_ after all the times he'd busted the prosecutor's chops about his feminine choice of pink suit color!

He didn't even have a regular driver's license, never mind one to drive a big truck or forklift, so that was out of the question.

And he was very skeptical about the numerous ads asking for ' _beautiful ladies, discreet clientele, free training offered for personal massages, cash daily'_. As much as Phoenix was willing to do anything for his daughter, dressing in drag and demeaning himself to giving _rub n' tugs_ to business-suited perverts that he possibly used to work alongside was too horrific a thought to even contemplate. And after reading the ad, the disturbing images of the screechy-voiced, balding prosecutor Winston Payne as the first and foremost sort of client who'd leap at the opportunity for a 'happy ending' couldn't be shaken from his mind!

That was when he remembered Trucy's offhand comment a few days earlier, after Edgeworth's momentous visit.

_"I saw an ad for a piano player at the Borscht Bowl, and who knows? Maybe you'll be even better at piano playing than lawyering!"_

True, he wasn't a pianist, but it wouldn't be the first time in his life he would be attempting the whole 'fake it till you make it' approach. Hadn't he become a renowned defense attorney by perfecting the fine art of bluffing, after all?

* * *

**_Ain't nothin' gonna break-a my stride  
Nobody gonna slow me down, oh no  
I got to keep on movin'  
Ain't nothin' gonna break-a my stride  
I'm running and I won't touch ground  
Oh no, I got to keep on movin'_ **

* * *

Humming the catchy reggae tune under his breath with his face set with grim determination, Phoenix swapped his comfortable sandals for a pair of trainers better suited for the half-hour walk. Bus fare costed extra, so his two feet and a heartbeat would have to suffice as his sole means of conveyance until he got a paycheck of some sort!

_The greatest challenge in life is discovering who you are. The second greatest is being happy with what you find._

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright_**  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
May 12, 2019, 12:00 PM

The Borscht Bowl Club was a charming Russian restaurant, set in a double story stone-walled building, with tiled mosaic floors. On the bottom level was a quaint tavern, featuring blue-tin ceilings and red velvet walls, mingled with twinkling chandeliers. Since it was daytime, only a small handful of customers were seated on the plush velvet chairs at the oak tables.

Standing inside the lower entrance doors of the bar, Phoenix felt beads of perspiration forming by his temples as his confidence threatened to leave him. He hadn't been at the establishment since the fateful night of his girlfriend's birthday. While he'd been a bar regular shortly after Maya and Pearls had moved back to Kurain, he'd snapped out of his funk before he'd become completely dependent on alcohol to ease his lonely sorrows. That, and the overly flirtatious advances of Tiffany, the blonde bombshell server who had always waited on him, had quickly turned from flattering to unnerving. He'd been too busy moping about the new-found loss of his beloved Maya and surrogate daughter at the time to indulge himself in meaningless dalliances and had also been too wrapped up in his career back then to pay heed to much else.

 _Good Lord!_ Phoenix was officially sweat dropping now. He was looking to work in the same place as _Tiffany_ , the scorned waitress from his girlfriend's birthday party? Who he'd made a complete fool of himself in front of and whom Maya had been _inexcusably_ rude to? What on earth was he _thinking_? Surely the buxom beauty would give the management a horrible character reference whether one was solicited or not! Under the miraculous circumstances that he got the gig, she'd most certainly ensure his working life there was utter and complete _hell!_ Or at the least, ascertain that no bottle of grape juice he ever ordered from would be without some sort of creative 'addition' added to it!

He turned on his heel to leave, but then suddenly pulled an about-face and took a deep breath. No, he had to least try. This was for his little girl. He couldn't be a cowardly wimp about this. And besides, even if he did have to eventually face Tiffany, he knew for a fact it wouldn't be then. She worked the night shift. Maybe he'd get lucky and she wouldn't even recognize him in his current bum gear anyway!

Phoenix slowly approached the bar, which was being tended solely by a blonde woman wearing entirely too much eye makeup and toxic perfume. She was dressed for the chilly atmosphere of the bar, perhaps a tad overly so, in a fuzzy black winter hat and a cobalt blue coat with white fur trim, over which she wore a white apron. On her hands, she wore pink mittens.

Catching sight of him standing before her, in a heavy Russian accent, she nervously, and nearly inaudibly, asked if she could get him anything.

"No, thank you. I'm not here for a drink…"

"We serving food too, down here in the tavern for lunchtime, sir. You like try my homemade Borscht for lunch? I make special. Very good."

"No thank you," Phoenix repeated politely. "I'm actually here about your help wanted sign for the piano player?" He gestured to the large black baby grand in the corner of the room, which was presently devoid of a pianist.

A look of panic flickered across the woman's overly made-up features.

"I know nothing of this needing _pianist_." With her thick Slavic accent, the word sounded hilariously similar to _penis_ and the ex-lawyer had to exercise every ounce of his self-control to keep from snorting with derisive mirth. "I am waitress upstairs only. I no hiring people. You talk to bartender. But he no here now."

"Oh, that's a shame. Do you know when he'll be in?"

"I know nothing."

"I see. So…you don't normally work here in the bar, huh? You work in the restaurant upstairs normally, you say?"

" _Da_." The woman nodded solemnly. "Bartender is late today. You wait, he coming soon."

"No problem. I can wait," Phoenix assured her. "I've nothing else to do. Could I get a grape juice in the meantime?"

The woman reached down under the counter and handed him a glass bottle, shyly avoiding his eyes and holding it high at the neck so his fingers wouldn't even accidentally brush her mittens during the interaction. He gave a smile of thanks and she returned it weakly before dropping her gaze.

 _They sure employed one helluva introverted gal to be waiting on their customers_! He mused as he unscrewed the cap of his drink and took a hearty swig.

He sat there silently for a few moments watching the woman wipe the glasses with a towel and clean off the counter. While he'd grown accustomed to being a recluse the past few weeks, he was suddenly starved for adult conversation. Besides, there was something about this dame that intrigued him somewhat, although he couldn't quite put his finger on why; it was as if there was more to her than met the eye. The hobo's still not extinct attorney probing radar was in full force now.

"My name's Phoenix," he said affably. "Phoenix Wright. What's yours?"

For a split second, he could have sworn he saw the woman's brown eyes widen slightly upon hearing his identity, but then her face resumed its normal stoic composure before he could be certain. In his present garb, Phoenix was virtually unrecognizable from the lawyer images of him that had been splashed across all the papers and TV after the whole forging scandal, so her odd expression could have been attributed to having merely recognized his name, but somehow, he doubted that was the case. His instincts told him this didn't appear to be the type of gal who followed the news of any sort.

"I am Olga," she informed him stiffly, avoiding his eyes again. "Olga Orly."

_Olga? Ugh, there's the mother of all hideous names that no man wants to picture shouting out in bed!_

Phoenix mentally berated himself for the crude notion, which was something more along the train of thought – or _speech_! – of his normally crass friend, Larry Butz. Not only did he not regard this strange woman in any sort of sexual light, but he'd only been disbarred a few weeks, and while his life was in the gutter at the moment, he saw no reason for his mind to so swiftly follow it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Olga." He attempted to keep his tone pleasant despite the waitress's incomprehensibly weary countenance. "Do you know what happened to the other piano guy that used to play here? Mr. Willie Effastop?"

"I do not hear of this man. I new working here." Olga did not appear to be enjoying conversing with him in the least. In fact, she looked downright _pained_ ; as if she dreadfully needed to pass gas but didn't want to say anything.

"He played weekend nights from what I remember," Phoenix persisted. "Do you normally work day shift? Are you ever here on nights?"

"I working nights. I here daytime only because bartender coming late today. When he is coming, I go home, come back later for night shift."

"Well then, maybe you _did_ see Willie in action at some point? He was my age or maybe younger, with slicked-back blond hair? He was an OK pianist but a terrible singer?"

"Willie quit last month," a deep male voice intoned smoothly, cutting into the dialogue and saving Phoenix from the tooth-pulling task of attempting conversation with the tight-lipped waitress. "We've been searching for his replacement ever since."

A tall young guy, about 6' 4" and broad-shouldered suddenly appeared behind the bar, allowing Olga to make what could only be described as a hasty, grateful retreat. The new arrival was in his early 20's and clean-shaven, with chestnut hair that kept falling into his coffee brown eyes, which were twinkling with amusement as he grinned at the anterior legal legend.

"The poor thin-skinned sap had a mini breakdown of sorts one night because some guy hauled his seagull sounding ass off the piano bench to sing a song for his girlfriend. Mr. Frog-Voice never got over the ego-crushing agony of the crowd cheering more for this, and I quote ' _damn showoff with lackluster pianist skills but somewhat passable singing voice'_ more than they ever had for poor old Willie!"

He paused to take a breath and offered his hand to shake.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. I'm Tyler, the bartender/HR at this place until the owners, Boris and Natasha, get back from Russia tonight." He smirked at the hobo's incredulous expression upon hearing the names. "No, I don't think they went there to go _moose hunting!"_

Phoenix stifled a snort upon hearing this while feeling a slight blush tinge his cheeks about the reason for Willie's departure even as he shook the proffered hand. Unlike Olga, the young man exuded a friendly kindness that he couldn't help but be touched by, and somewhat melted the ice that had formed around his heart, however briefly.

"Phoenix Wright, prospective Borscht Bowl piano player."

_And of disgraced, forging attorney acclaim._

An interesting thing that differed Tyler from the jittery waitress was the fact that if _he_ has recognized Phoenix's name or face, his visage never registered it. Instead, he smiled broadly.

"This is great! Weekends have seemed so dull without someone here to tickle the ivories since Willie left, and we've had a hard time finding someone that the owners approve of! I'm easy-going, but they get the ultimate final say in the new musician. I'm going to give you a little trial, and if it's passable, I'll have you come by tonight to play a set for the owners to listen to, and see how the crowd takes to you. How's that sound?"

"It's fine." Phoenix cleared his throat. "Um, how good do I have to be, actually? I'm going to be honest here, Tyler … Willie was a far better player than me."

"Nevertheless, the man cleared a room whenever he sang!" Tyler laughed. "He would probably still be here if he'd just shut the hell up and played without the ear-piercing caterwauling! I have no idea why that tone-deaf tool thought that he could sing! Don't worry about it. I'm going to be on duty tonight so you'll have me for moral support. I usually work the 12:00 PM to 10:00 PM shifts. The only reason I'm late today is that I had to take my wife to the doctor."

The job hunter raised his eyebrows. The kid was _married?_ He didn't look a day over 21!

"I hope that she's all right?"

"She's better than all right – doc says she and our little one are doing just great! The baby is developing healthily and the constant kicking is a sign of vitality." The young man beamed, then gave a rueful shake of his head. "The doctor was a bit worried that the heartbeat was a bit strange, but he attributes it to Sasha's high rate of caffeine consumption."

"Oh, you guys are expecting? Congratulations! When's the baby due?"

"In two months," Tyler declared proudly. "Our first. But enough about me, let's get you on that piano and hear what you can do!"

Ugh, was it _that_ evident he'd been delaying the inevitable?

The spiky-haired man dragged his feet over to the instrument and sat down on the edge of the bench, willing his hands to stop trembling.

"I'm ready anytime _you're_ ready," Tyler called from behind the bar. "Trust me, I can hear you from here!"

_That's what I was afraid of._

With clumsy fingers, Phoenix hurriedly hammered out a satisfactory rendition of _Chopsticks_ , followed by _Chariots of Fire_.

Tyler fixated him with a polite, encouraging smile.

"Not bad, but that's only a couple of short bars! Can you play a _full_ song?"

There was only _one_ song Phoenix knew by heart. But there was _no way_ he was going to sing the individualized lyrics to them. No way. Not unless the bartender wanted to see his new wannabe pianist have a complete breakdown in front of him due to the melancholic memories attached to it.

With great reluctance, he began to play the opening bars to the famous Bruno Mars song.

Tyler listened intently, nodding his head in time to the beat.

 _"Grenade!"_ He exclaimed, applauding loudly when the song was finished. "A great, classic tune! Not bad at all. A little rusty…but I figure that's just nerves, right? Although I thought you said you couldn't play the piano?"

_I can't. Just that **one** song. And only because I personalized the stanza for the love of my life, who life has cruelly decided to snatch away from me, along with my badge, my hopes, my dreams, my dignity…_

Phoenix gave a strained smile.

"So… does that mean I'm hired then?"

"Well, like I said, Boris and Natasha have the final say when they come in tonight, but ultimately, yeah, you're in. We'll need you for the 6:00 PM till 2:00 PM Thursday to Sunday."

"Six in the _evening_?" Phoenix echoed blankly. "Until two in the _morning_?"

"Well, of course, buddy. Those are the busiest nights at the bar! Did you think we needed a pianist for our non-existent lunch hour clientele?" Tyler chuckled and spread his muscular arms out widely, indicating the nearly empty tavern. "Is there a problem?"

The wannabe pianist scratched the back of his neck and gave the bartender a sheepish grin.

"A small one." He tried to speak lightly. "See, I was sort of hoping this was a kind of _day_ job. Or at least, not such a night job! The thing is, I have a daughter. She's only eight…"

"And you can't leave her alone. I gotcha." Tyler crossed his arms and frowned. "Can't she stay with her mom?"

"Her mom's not in the picture. I'm a single father."

"Damn! Can't you figure something out? The job pays cash, plus tips."

_Tips? Huh. Maybe customers will pay me **not** to play? Then again, Willie would have made a fortune if they'd paid him **not** to **sing** …_

"Maybe…" Phoenix hedged. "Could I get back to you?"

"Sure thing. I'm here till 10:00. Let me know."

"I will. Thank you, Tyler."

Phoenix reached into his meager wallet to pay for the grape juice he'd just consumed, but the bartender shooed his hand away.

"Forget about it. Consider it a welcome aboard drink."

"But it wouldn't be right to accept just yet," Phoenix protested, embarrassed but touched by the unexpectedly kind gesture. "I'm still not sure if I can even commit to this!"

"I've got a good feeling about you." Tyler winked. "You'll be back."

Phoenix nodded, then turned and slowly headed to the door, feeling as if his feet weighed like a ton of bricks with each step home. The good news was, he had a job. Starting that night. The bad news was, what to do about Trucy? He could hardly drag an 8-year-old to a _tavern_ with him!

_…Could he?_

No, of course, he couldn't! There _had_ to be a better way than choosing a method of a _low-life, redneck,_ which would only result in the Old Battle-axe from Children's Services having Phoenix's head on a platter!

Once back at the office, the new hire picked up his desk phone and dialed a familiar phone number. After what felt like a million years, the other party picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hi, it's me." Phoenix blurted out quickly before he lost his nerve. "I know it's been a while since we talked, and that things have been kind of weird between us since I sort of fell off the face of the earth. I'm truly sorry about that. But the point is, we've always been there for one another whenever it counted, and now, more than ever, I _really_ need your help…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathew Wilder – Break My Stride


	13. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We have to accept that there are certain things in our life that are inescapable. These are the things that come naturally to us and are necessary to our existence."

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
The Borscht Bowl Club_  
May 12, 2019, 8:45 PM

The bar was surprisingly packed despite being still being early in the evening, and most of the patrons were already in 'the happy zone'. They didn't even appear to mind or notice that for the last couple of hours, Phoenix had been playing the same half dozen little ditties he'd hastily attempted to teach himself via YouTube earlier in the day, practicing the "easy keyboard tunes" on the small children's piano of Trucy's at home.

However, as one of the few still-sober people in the bar, he couldn't help but notice Tyler attempt to hide his cringing expression when Phoenix yet again launched into his _Pirates of the Caribbean_ theme song for the eighth time that night.

The crowd didn't seem to mind. They appeared to get a kick out of the Disney-themed music (he had an 8-year-old girl, it was what _she_ liked and hence, _all_ that he _knew_!) and cheered loudly.  
As he began another repeat performance of _Let it Go_ , some of the customers even began to drunkenly sing along to the chorus.

* * *

**_Let it go, let it go  
Can't hold it back anymore  
Let it go, let it go  
Turn away and slam the door  
I don't care what they're going to say  
Let the storm rage on  
The cold never bothered me anyway_ **

* * *

**_Let it go, let it go  
Can't hold it back anymore  
Let it go, let it go  
Turn away and slam the door_ **

* * *

**_Let it go (go, go, go go, go go, go go, go, go, go go)_ **

**_Let it go  
Let it go  
Let it go_**

* * *

"No, no, not _again!"_

Phoenix heard the agonized, piercing wail from behind him out of the blue, startling him into breaking off in mid-song as he spun around in his seat to find, standing behind him, a tall, slender woman in a purple jersey dress, arms crossed over her chest in the identical manner of the man next to her, who was clad in a pinstriped dark grey suit and black bowler hat.

The woman was presumably in her mid-to-late 40's, with sharp Slavic features and jet-black hair cut into a severe, geometric bob. Thick, Cleopatra-style bangs fell across her ivory forehead, grazing the heavily mascaraed lashes of icy blue-grey eyes, which were regarding him with undisguised irritation. Beside her stood a much shorter, stocky man of about the same age, with a pencil-thin brown mustache, piercing dark eyes, and bushy brows, which were knitted together with an irked expression, not at all dissimilar to his comrade.

Phoenix already had a sinking suspicion who they were, so he hurriedly spoke into his microphone, citing that he was taking a quick break and would be back shortly, before turning back and flashing his most disarming grin at the unsmiling duo.

"I take you aren't a fan of _Frozen_?" The new pianist quipped, addressing his comment to the woman who'd presumably voiced the loud protest.

He took a moment to take note of her sleeveless frock. While she didn't appear to be showing any evident sign of discomfort, there were visible goosebumps on her bare arms, undoubtedly from the frigid atmosphere of the bar.

"Perhaps it seems like I was making a mockery of the temperature of this place, huh?" He added sheepishly. "I honestly wasn't! And it's not like I _should_ be complaining! I mean, sure my bare feet are cold in these sandals… But at least _I'm_ in a hoodie and pants…whereas _you_ – you're in a strapless dress and must be freezing half to death..."

"Not at all. I am _Russian_!" The woman's voice was more Arctic than the sub-zero chilliness of the room. "The cold never bothered me anyway!"

"Right. Er, sorry, I guess us sun-worshipping Californians seem like a sissy bunch to you to think that this is anywhere near the climate of Siberia, or wherever in Russia it is you're from…"

Phoenix realized he was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop himself. He chuckled nervously as they continued glowering at him and scratched the back of his neck.

"Um, how do you do? I'm Phoenix Wright, your new pianist…"

"I insist that you stop this endless drivel, you no-goodnik pianist!" The man snapped, his eyebrows drawing together even more. In his agitation, his thick Russian accent made his words nearly unintelligible and made his pronunciation of the word sound like _penis_ , just as hilariously inappropriately as Olga had. It was evident that the protesting wail earlier had come from _him_ , and _not_ his wife. "We knowink who you are! I cannot believe that _durak_ , Tyler, deemed _you_ to be a suitable musician for our establishment!"

Phoenix wasn't quite sure what _durak_ meant, but he was sure the presumably Russian word intended for the kind-hearted bartender hadn't been a complimentary one. He hoped the younger man's job wouldn't be on the line for having taken a chance on him, since the owners, who this couple most certainly were, found his piano skills to be less than worthy!

"Dahlink, _sharrup your mouth!_ " The woman suddenly directed her glare away from the musician and towards her spouse. "This be no way to be speakink about, or addressink, our loyal, valued employees!"

She turned back to Phoenix, her glacial gaze somewhat thawed now as she extended a slim, well-manicured hand.

"Please excusink my husband's ill-manners," she went on, in an accent that while was as distinctly Russian as her partner's, was infinitely more tangible. "I am Natasha Fatale Slotzky, one of the owners of the Borscht Bowl."

She turned to her stoic husband, who still appeared quite sullen at the reprimand and slightly nudged him with the toe of her pointy-toed pump. When Boris still didn't react, she literally stamped on his suede loafer with the spiky heel of her stiletto, causing him to yelp in pain and scowl indignantly at her before turning back to their new hire with a strained smile as he let out a pained hissing noise.

"Allow me to introducink myself. I am Boris Badenov, the other owner for this bar." He offered his meaty, multi-gold ringed hand to Phoenix to shake. "Forgive my bad manners, Mr. Wright. We have been watchink you last couple of hours now. I sorry, but my likink for children's movie song is runnink its course now."

"Phoenix, please," he insisted, blushing furiously. "I'm very sorry for incessant reruns, Boris, Natasha, it's just first-night jitters, I suppose. I, er, haven't played piano in an awfully long time…"

 _Like, for the past 27 years_ _!_

"…And I'm afraid my rusty skills are, therefore, the cause for my, ah, limited repertoire this evening."

" _You sair it_!" Boris laughed. "Limited? I hearink less song repetition at Disneyland theme park!"

His wife cast him a filthy look for this rude comment, and he flushed.

"Pardon me, um, what I meanink to say is, Phoenix … can you no be playing somethink _unique?_ Maybe original tune of your own makink?"

"I, er…" the ex-lawyer felt himself sweatdropping at the unexpected request. "I'm a small-time ivory-tickler and hardly a _composer_ , sir! But…I can certainly _try_ …"

"I have faith in you, music man," Natasha assured him. "I am sure that we will get our money's worth from you, _somehow_ , as we explore some of your _untapped_ talents."

Her red lips turned upwards into a smile then. However, it didn't appear to reach her shuttered, dramatically made-up eyes, and Phoenix suddenly felt a chill run down his spine that had naught to do with the temperature of the room.

Boris appeared to brighten upon hearing his wife's words.

" _Da, da_ _Kotik_ ," he enthused, smiling adoringly at Natasha. "The best is yet to comink!"

 _Did he seriously just call her_ **_pussycat_? **_The only reason I know that word is Mia told me Diego tried making that her pet name initially, but she put the immediate kibosh on that! Hence, he had to forsake it and opt for calling the Chief_ _his_ **_kitten_ **_instead!_

The Russian man turned back to his new employee, a sly smile creeping across his mug.

"Phoenix, you keep playink for one more half-hour, then we comink to see you again and talk about business, _da_?"

"C – certainly, s-sir," Phoenix stammered, feeling both slightly shaken at the command to become a composer barely three hours into his pianist career, yet relieved he would only need to pretend to play the piano for another thirty minutes.

" _Original_ music only, Phoenix," Natasha emphasized pointedly, flashing him a wink before sauntering off into the crowd. "You have been _told!"_

" _Da_ , no more Disney songs, Phoenix, I beggink you!" Boris joked, tipping his hat at him before turning to follow his wife. "Else, I might be havink to _kill_ you!"

Despite the fiendish grin that accompanied the words to pass them off as a jape, there was an instinctive, terrifying fear in Phoenix's mind that the sinister-looking man had been _jocoserious_! He felt zero relief that the owners had left him alone for now, as he knew they would be remaining in that bar, perhaps out of sight yet ensuring _he_ was still visible to _them._

 _Together somewhere…_ _Listening. Watching. Waiting._

With shaking fingers, the scrutinized new hire fumbled his way through a piece that sounded partially like an old crooner's classic and part ragtime. He didn't even have to glance up towards the bar area to know that Tyler was probably burying his head in his hands and ruing ever hiring him in the first place! A discreet glance at his new friend told Phoenix his guess had been correct. The bartender was staring at him, completely aghast, his thoughts stamped across his face as clear as day: _Is he just making this shit up as he goes along?!_

Suddenly, a shrill voice cut across the din, louder than Boris's had, but this time, the high pitch was all too disturbingly, mind-numbingly _familiar_.

"What in tarnation is this dad-blasted music y'all got here tonight? I'll swanee that pianist must be more blind drunk than Cooter Brown, cuz he ain't got no dang rhythm to speak of! He's just piddlin' around and done hit the wrong keys at least _three times_ just since my arrival!"

_Good Lord. It can't be…!_

Phoenix had managed to get this far into his shift without any irreparable turmoil or drama, despite his less than stellar meeting with the owners. He had been thanking his lucky stars that he'd somehow managed to go all evening without even once having to see _her._

His luck had run out. It was all over now. His past had come back to haunt him, and as much as he'd have loved to cut and run, there was absolutely no place for him to _hide_.

Unfortunately, dematerializing into thin air wasn't among his hidden talents any more than piano playing was. He was trapped at that piano bench facing one of his worst nightmares come to life.

Standing next to Tyler at the bar, larger than life and glaring holes at him that would have bored holes through a brick wall, was the jilted bombshell waitress from Maya's birthday party. There was no mistaking the indelible pneumatic blonde anywhere. It was none other than the one, the only, Miss Tiffany Pierce herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idina Menzel – Let It Go (Disney's Frozen Soundtrack)


	14. Hell Hath No Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When things go wrong, just do your best to make it through the day and you'll be okay in a short time."

**_Phoenix Wright  
_** _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
May 12, 2019, 9:00 PM

The inside of the tavern rivaled that of the Siberia; as if trying to make patrons truly experience the authentic Russian experience – or simply drink enough to get warmed up! If you weren't touching the sauce, however, and had nothing stronger in your system then grape juice, the ability to remain even tepid was an admirable feat.

In such an environment where the owners were too damn cheap to pay for adequate heating, managing to profusely sweat-drop was downright dumbfounding.

Nevertheless, the equivalent of a human Wet-Nap was exactly the state that could best be used to describe Phoenix Wright as he sat in frozen horror. As he helplessly stared back at the server across the room, it was impossible to miss the look on the comely blonde's visage. It was one of undisguised revulsion; as if he was some festering maggot that she'd discovered in her food.

Up until nearly a month ago, those long-lashed cobalt eyes had always sparkled with cheerfulness at the sight of him. _Now_ they were regarding him with so much scorn and disdain that he fervently wished he could somehow wave a magic wand and promptly apparate to someplace, _anyplace_ else!

How the pianist wished to just instantaneously vanish; to be _anywhere_ but _there,_ inside that polar vortex of a bar, feeling like a bug pinned to the wall by the hostile gaze of a woman who had never once treated him with anything but friendly affection, even adoration _,_ or gazed at him without undisguised admiration … all up until _that fateful night._

He'd never dreamed he'd see her again, especially not _now_ , so soon after the fact. Nonetheless, there she was – in living color.

Without further preamble, she slammed her tray down onto the bar next to Tyler, ignoring the bartender's blatant protests and pleas not to make a scene, and strode over in Phoenix's direction.

He remained glued in a seated position, helplessly staring like a deer caught in headlights.

Tiffany's ample cleavage jiggled as she marched purposefully towards him with utmost stunning legerity in her towering stilettos until she, at last, accosted him at the piano bench, which, unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough to bolt from.

Phoenix hastily stood, cursing himself for the knocking state of his knees, and wondered if they would be of any use if he needed to hightail it from what was sure to be the mother of all ugly confrontations.

Tiffany stood a hair's breadth away from him, so close he could smell the magnolia scent of her perfume and fully make out the snarl on her tanned face. He had no idea how she wasn't freezing to death in her tiny black tuxedo shorts and sleeveless cropped ruffled white top, with mere black fishnets on her long, toned legs as sole covering from the chill of the room.

"Cease that piddlin' around _immediately_ , mister! I done got a bone to pick with you!" Tiffany's normally syrupy Southern drawl was now a sharp-sounding twang. She leaned so close her heaving breasts were almost brushing against him while she stabbed a scarlet talon against his chest.

" _M-me_?" Phoenix stammered, bending himself so far backward in an attempt to avoid being out of reach from the claws of death, he may as well have been in in a limbo contest.

"Is there any other no-good _pie-yay-no_ player in this here house who dills my pickle?" She demanded, finally retracting her finger and placing both hands on her shapely, booty-shorted hips.

"P-pardon me?" Phoenix straightened up and eyed her wearily, while inching a step backward as subtly as he could, hopefully without the risk of sending his former admirer running off on another tangent.

" _Irritates me,_ bub! Normally, I got no axe to grind about the live entertainment at this here watering hole. But I can tell ya, I know good music from doggone _bad!_ "

Tiffany was snarling now as she clenched her fists.

"All's I know is the other musician didn't' make me madder than a wet hen! Sho 'nuff that Mr. Willie couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but still, I was as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine while he _played_ , even if I didn't know half the grand-pappy tunes he tried to perform! _Yours_ just hurts my poor dang ears, and I dern' tootin reckon them ears of the others in this bar too if they weren't already walking on a slant! But speaking as a sober female with apt hearing, I do declare that mister man, that your ivory tickling skills are scarcer than a hen's teeth!"

"I – I'm sorry?" His voice was weak as he shrunk back further under her scathing glare.

_Man, I can't believe how steamed she is about my playing! Talk about your tough crowd!_

"Listen here, buster. And listen good!" Tiffany leaned close to him so they were almost once again nose to nose, and her voice was steely as she ground out the next words through gritted teeth. "I don't need to wait on and be schlepping' drinks for these lecherous drunken lunkards, freezing my heinie off all the while being forced to _smile_ … _and_ have to deal with your stinkin' noise pollution to boot, ya hear?"

_Loud and clear! But ouch! Whatever happened to those famed Southern manners and hospitality, anyway?! Hey, wait a minute…_

Somehow, throughout the verbal onslaught, Phoenix was able to decipher some relevant – and _coherent_! – clues amidst the fuming Southern rabble.

_Mister. Bub. Buster… Jumping Jehoshaphat's!_

Phoenix's eyes widened as two realizations hit him. One, Tiffany didn't know who he was. And two, Lord have _mercy_ , if she was _this_ riled up about his lousy playing while being momentarily unaware of his true identity, then God help him when she finally _did_ find out!

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Right now, he was too busy reveling in the relief this discovery had brought him.

The southern belle wasn't ripping a strip off him because she was steamed that the man who had jilted her and made an ass of himself less than a month ago had suddenly materialized at her bar, playing the crappy piano! She was just plain agitated that this _mysterious, unrecognizable hobo_ had shown up at her workplace _..._ and happened to be playing craptastic piano, which she _refused_ to be forced to endure!

His shoulders sagged slightly at this unexpected reprieve, and he finally released the bated breath from his lungs. The untargeted rage he could deal with! He'd been a defense attorney after all. He was used to people being mad at situations that often had naught to do directly with him, but still taking it out on him nonetheless. This situation didn't involve getting the hell out of dodge. It simply required a little bit of his old bluffing…and humoring. And if all else failed…playing dumb.

"Forgive me for offending your pretty ears, Miss. That was never my intention." Phoenix chuckled with embarrassment and treated the waitress to his most charming smile. "This was strictly a case of premiere night jitters, is all. The owners asked me to play something original as they got sick of my Disney songs, and I'm afraid I didn't have anything prepared."

His diversion tactic of frank honesty of his shortcomings appeared to be at least somewhat successful.

"I beg your pardon, kind Sir." Tiffany's scowl vanished as her cheeks turned pink. "Nobody here told me they done hired a new pianist. I reckoned ya were just a drunken clown who had a hankerin' to go hog wild on our keyboard there…I swear I'd never give down the country and go off half-cocked on someone they'd _hired_ to play here, even if I did think they stunk!"

"No need to apologize," Phoenix reassured her. "I guess I _did_ kind of suck, didn't I? I assure you I will have a more pleasing selection tomorrow night. In the meantime, I do hope you can find it in your kind heart to bear with the new guy suffering from first-night stage fright?"

"I aim to eagerly mend fences with anyone the bawses, Mr. Boris and Ms. Natasha deem fit for their pub…they know best, so who am I to be too big for one's britches!" Tiffany took a step back so she was no longer up in his face. The look of hostility was long gone from her eyes and was now replaced with friendly curiosity. "This be yer first in this here stompin' grounds? Yer tellin' me that yer gonna be our new regular feller?"

"Indeed I am…"

_Assuming Boris and Natasha haven't decided to fire my ass for my music causing their servers to be in such an uproar!_

"…I work the 6:00 PM to 2:00 AM shift Thursday to Sundays. How about you?"

"Well, that takes the cake! Yer taking over Willie's old shift slot then. They got me workin' the 9:00 PM to 3:00 AM night shift here those same days. I reckon this makes us workmates then." Tiffany flashed her familiar dazzling white smile. "Ain't that the berries! Even if I ain't agreeable to your music, I reckon I oughta learn to co-exist with ya though, huh?"

"Well, that's good to hear." He grinned at her; the relief evident on his face although his body was still rigid with the tension that still hadn't fully abated.

She let out a tinkly laugh, which under most circumstances he would have found somewhat charming, but he was too busy silently praying her newfound congeniality wasn't temporary.

"You can relax now, fella! You look as nervous as a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs! I'm not gonna bite ya! That is…" Her voice trailed off and her friendly smile was replaced by the oh-so-suggestive one he was all too familiar with. "Unless you _want_ me to, of course…"

 _Good grief! Not **this**_ _again_! Phoenix groaned inwardly. Was this femme fatale honestly so hard-up for his alleged fine behind that she found him alluring even _now_ , in all his scruffy, bum-gear wearing glory?!

Or was she simply the ultimate _Man-Eater_ that pop culture songs were made about?

* * *

**_She'll only come out at night  
The lean and hungry type  
Nothing is new  
I've seen her here before  
Watching and waiting  
Ooh, she's sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door  
So many have paid to see what you think you're getting for free  
The woman is wild, a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar  
Money's the matter  
If you're in it for love, you ain't gonna get too far_ **

* * *

"I, ah…" Phoenix coughed nervously. "Didn't take you for a vampire at all. You're much too tanned for that, heh heh."

* * *

**_Oh-oh, here she comes)  
Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up  
(Oh-oh, here she comes)  
She's a maneater  
(Oh-oh, here she comes)  
Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up  
(Oh-oh, here she comes)  
She's a maneater_ **

* * *

"They bite to draw blood," she said coyly, tilting her head to the side and eyeing him coquettishly. "I'm more of a _nibbler_ myself you know…"

* * *

**_I wouldn't if I were you  
I know what she can do  
She's deadly, man  
She could really rip your world apart  
Mind over matter  
Ooh, the beauty is there but a beast is in the heart…_ **

* * *

"Well gee, will you look at the time!" Phoenix made a big show of looking at his watch as he tried to brush aside the all-too-applicable lyrics that'd sprung to his mind. "It's 9:15 and Mr. Badenov and Ms. Slutsky will surely be looking for me, as they told me to only play for another half hour. I'm afraid I must be off now, Tiffany…"

The name had slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he'd said. And, unfortunately for him, in a bar so noisy you could have landed a helicopter in it without anyone noticing it, the unfamiliar use of the moniker was somehow heard as clear as a bell.

Tiffany started at the sudden use of her name, which she most definitely had _not_ shared with him. The flirtatious expression slowly fell off her face as her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 _Jesus H. Christ and bloody freakin hell!_ _It's over. The fat lady hath sung!_

"How do you know my name?" Her sharp, searching gaze ran over Phoenix from head to toe, as though looking for clues to his identity. "Who are you? Do I know you from somewhere around yonder?"

He cursed his stupidity. He'd pulled the lamest tongue-slip up in the book, the same one that had made countless witnesses guiltily hang themselves on the stand in numerous trials, and resulted in victories for him when he'd been an attorney. Now _he'd_ gone and fallen victim to the same careless error, without having even been verbally bated, goaded or plied with alcohol as a scapegoat for his idiocy!

Nope, he'd done goofed. Plain and simple.

"Answer me!" Tiffany demanded her hands back on her hips. Sparks shot out of her eyes. "How do you know who I am?"

Phoenix gulped and uneasily scratched the back of his neck as he frantically scanned his alarmed mind for a plausible excuse. The unconscious habit resulted in the back of his beanie shifting higher than usual on his head. A few of his spikes became exposed and wildly sprung out, as if in relief from no longer being restrained, like snakes springing from a gag can of peanut brittle.

Tiffany's eyes widened in recognition now, and as her mouth opened, the look on her face was downright murderous.

_"Phoenix Wright! You low-down, conniving, God-forsaken wank biscuit!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hall & Oates – Maneater


	15. The Baron Of Bluffing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another dark night, in the city  
> And my prospects lookin' thin  
> The survival, of the fittest  
> Is the law, in the world that I live in
> 
> I was not born, to be a fighter  
> But now's the time I have to learn  
> To keep my head, above the water  
> Gotta play with fire, but not get burned
> 
> I gotta stand up, I gotta face it  
> Don't want to lose it  
> I want to taste it while it's hot  
> Don't want to waste it, I need it so bad
> 
> I'm gonna win, yeah  
> I'm gonna win  
> You see it's a matter of pride  
> Deep down inside  
> I'm gonna win, yeah  
> I'm gonna win
> 
> I got no time, to sit and wonder  
> I got myself, to reckon with  
> Yeah and life won't drag me under  
> Even if it takes, all I have to give  
> I'll give it all
> 
> I gotta stand up, I gotta face it  
> Don't want to lose it  
> Ooh I want to taste it while it's hot  
> Don't want to waste it, my mind's made up
> 
> I'm gonna win  
> I'm gonna win  
> I tell you, see when it comes down to the crunch  
> I've gotta beat life to the punch  
> I'm gonna win  
> Somehow I know I'm gonna win  
> You know  
> I've got to fight to stay alive  
> Kick it in to overdrive  
> I'm gonna win, ooh, ooh, ooh  
> I'm gonna win
> 
> I'm gonna win  
> I'm gonna win  
> You see it's a matter of pride  
> Deep down inside  
> I'm gonna win  
> Gonna win, gonna win  
> Ooh, I'll pay the price  
> Gonna win  
> No more Mr. Nice  
> Gonna win  
> Hey, just watch me roll the dice  
> I'm gonna win, win, win  
> I'm gonna win, win, gonna win  
> I'm gonna win  
> I know I'm gonna win

_**Phoenix Wright**  
_ _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
May 12, 2019, 9:15 PM

Despite the fury behind it, Phoenix barely resisted a chuckle at the expletive. In his life, he'd been called much worse – including by his _girlfriend_ during one of her fierier moments in this very bar! Therefore, he's gotten accustomed knowing he tended to inspire rage from females within his life; it seemed to be his destiny, and he'd accepted it as such.

Regardless of the animated delivery of the insult, however, there was nothing comical about the enraged look on Tiffany's face at that moment. He'd never seen her so incensed, not even when she'd overheard some of the wince-worthy insults Maya had been spewing behind her back. Had the blonde been a cartoon character, there would literally have been visible steam coming out of her ears.

There was no available drink or any other reachable physical object for her to strike or fling at him, although he wasn't about to rule out her flipping the piano bench at him in her current state! And luckily, the waitress had left her drinks tray back at the bar with Tyler, who was looking at him with helpless sympathy from the bar even as he shook his head and put his palms up in the air in the _"I don't know what to do here!"_ fashion.

_So much for intervening help from **that** department!_

Not that he could blame his friend. Had the roles been reversed and _Tyler_ been the subject of wrath, the pianist wasn't sure _he'd_ have touched the situation with an 80-foot pole!

Phoenix also knew he was due for some additional, creative form of impending violence to immediately accompany that outburst, however, unless he acted fast.

"Heh, heh. Couldn't fool you, could I?" He attempted to joke feebly, while wisely taking a step backward, not even attempting discretion in his actions this time. "Silly me, should have known better than to try to pull a fast one on _you_ of all people, Tiffany!"

"You lying, sneaky turd-blender!" Tiffany hollered; her hands clenched into fists. "Gimme one dang good reason I shouldn't tan yer hide for making a fool outta me on _two_ blasted occasions now!"

" _Objection!"_ Phoenix interjected weakly. "I never lied to you, Tiffany. You never did actually _ask_ my name! So, er, _technically_ , I didn't provide a false identity to you at all."

"Ya dang tootin' know I ain't as mad as a mule chewin' on bumblebees just because yer posin' as some imposter playin' a lousy piano in my workplace, ya yellow-bellied scoundrel!" Tiffany's mien was red from yelling. "Although I'd reckon subjectin' me to that godforsaken noise woulda been _reason_ enough! You better give your _heart_ to Jesus, 'cause your _butt_ is _mine_!"

"F – first night jitters…"

"Don't ya dare make like ya haven't got the sense God gave a goose with _me_ , Phoenix Wright!" Tiffany hollered. "We both know that I am fit to be tied cuz you were frontin' like you had a hankerin' for me and were stringin' me along when ya had a gal pal the whole time! Yer nuttin' more than a _wretched, lecherous, two-faced dawg_! I'll knock ya so hard ya'll see tomorrow today!"

OK, so he _hadn't_ been paranoid with his feelings of dread about their confrontation in the event their paths had crossed again! Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned indeed!

The worst part was, her four-color, full-stereo level of histrionics aside, Tiffany was right to be upset. Maya had behaved in an irredeemably horrific manner that night, while _he_ had only added fuel to the fire, and done nothing to diffuse the situation. If anything, he'd made it _worse_. The woman was surely owed an apology for unwittingly becoming part of their insane triangle that evening. It never would have existed in the first place, had Phoenix and Maya _both_ not been such blind, stubborn, and yes, _cowardly_ morons that night!

"Tiffany, you have every reason to despise me. Please forgive me for hurting you."

"Yer lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut! Why I oughta kick yer keister from here to San Francisco! Wait – _what in Sam Hill did ya just say?"_

"You're right to hate me." Phoenix bravely took a tentative step forward and bowed his head in shame. "I deserve anything you have to dish out and more. However unintentionally, I _did_ end up leading you on. It was wrong of me, and I sincerely apologize."

Tiffany looked taken aback by his unexpected shift in demeanor. Clearly, she'd been expecting more defensive actions and stammering excuses, not his willing apology.

"W- What this here now?" It was her turn to stammer.

"I'm truly sorry, Tiffany," Phoenix stated plaintively, raising his head so she could see the veracity in his eyes. "No matter what you justifiably may think of me, believe me when I say that I am only guilty of being a daft prick. But never a purposely dishonest one. I'm not a dog or a two-timer of any sort. This is why, although I admit I enjoyed your attention, I never let it go further than what I hoped was mere friendly flirtation."

"But why couldn't ya lemme know I was wastin' my time?" The fire had left the waitress completely, and the hostility on her visage had abated. She'd exchanged her clenched fists for crossed arms over her chest now as she eyed him sulkily. "Why didn't ya tell me you had a girlfriend before ya let me look like such a dang fool?"

"I _swear_ to you, I didn't lie about that! When we first met, when I came here as your customer, you asked if I was single, and I was telling the truth when I said that _yes, I was_. However, I _should_ have told you about Maya right out of the gate," Phoenix admitted guiltily. "I may not have _theoretically_ been taken at the but _emotionally_ , I'd been off the market for four years."

_I was just too much a lame-ass wuss to see it even though everyone else could! And I was also too stupid and blind to do anything about it until then that same night!_

"I had no way of knowin," Tiffany sighed. She met his gaze levelly. "So, lemme get this here straight … ya'll two really weren't an item until that night of her birthday party here at the pub?"

"Nope."

"Well don't that beat all!" Tiffany murmured, almost to herself. "At least I wasn't some total hussy tryin' to land another gal's fella…"

"Nope."

"But ya always loved her all along… ya just never had the _cojones_ to tell her until then?"

"Yup."

_I loved her then, and love her still. Always have, and always will._

"And she was acting all catty and jealous and was ready to claw my eyes out that night because _she_ was so madly in love with yew?"

"Yup."

_Something I also didn't know till that night. How was I supposed to realize Maya ever saw me **that way** when she always acted like she saw me as nothing more than stodgy old fart?! I mean, come on! She literally used to call me "Old Man!"_

"So, I reckon y'all two are happily together now?"

"Um…" Phoenix paused in his steady stream of monosyllabic replies and blushed. "I don't know exactly…"

"Jeez, Louise!" Tiffany gawked at him in disbelief. "Seems like ya don't know shit from Shinola about anythin', buster! Whaddya mean _ya don't know_?"

"Er, it's sorta complicated …" He grinned sheepishly and adjusted his beanie back into place, tucking the spikes back into place. "Funny story, really…"

"This is _real life_ , Phoenix, not a _Facebook status_!" Tiffany exclaimed in exasperation. "Why ya gotta go and make things so dang _complex?"_

"Right. So then, in simplest terms then, _technically_ , yes. Maya _is_ still my girlfriend…"

_The love of my life promised me she'd wait for me. I don't know if it's wrong of me to hope and pray I can hold her to that. But I do know that there will never be anyone for me but my Burger Queen. She's taken my heart forever._

"…and there will never be anyone else for me _but_ Maya."

"She's a lucky gal." Tiffany gave him a wistful smile. "The good ones are always taken, it seems. Yer a fine fella, Phoenix Wright."

" _I'm_ the lucky one," Phoenix insisted, shaking off the compliment. "But that aside, are we good, Tiffany? You think you can forgive me for being a clueless, bumbling clod, yet one who ultimately meant you no harm?"

"I don't get much choice now, do I, my fellow colleague?" She flashed her megawatt grin. "Better to live in peace than in a war zone. It's just as well ya didn't link up with me, anyway, since yer workin' here now. Never piss in your own backyard, Mama always said."

"Thank you, Tiffany. I really do hope we can be friends." Phoenix returned her smile with a sincere one of his own. Glancing up, he saw Boris and Natasha standing by the bar area, and the short man was looking at him while pointedly tapping his watch. "But I really _do_ have to get going now. The owners are waiting for me."

"I gotcha. Duty calls. I need to get back to work too." Tiffany gave him a friendly wink then wriggled her fingers at him as she sashayed off. "See ya around, cutie."

In spite of himself, Phoenix couldn't help but notice the provocative sway of the server's shapely hips as she sashayed away, along with just how well she filled out the back of those black fitted booty shorts. Daisy Duke would have been proud, indeed!

 _Would anyone ever believe that I turned **that** down?_ He ruefully shook his head as he headed over to his bosses. _Maya Fey, I must really and truly love you!_

Boris was wearing what appeared to be his customary scowl when Phoenix approached them, while Natasha at least was in her typical stony-faced hauteur when she saw him.

"Come with us," she said succinctly, nodding at Tyler as she walked past him and towards an exit just behind the bar area.

Phoenix flashed the bartender a quick smile, relieved that his odious keyboarding hadn't resulted in the young man losing his job, as he followed his bosses out an exit just behind the bar.

They headed down the hall to a dimly lit stairwell, which led them downstairs to presumably the basement. They stepped inside the place, which, if possible, was even chillier than the tavern.

Phoenix was grateful for the warmth of his tracksuit, although he could already feel the numbness settling into his bare sandaled feet.

Boris walked over to a corner of the room and flicked on the lights, exposing a small cellar-style room, with a small piano in the corner, less luxe than the baby grand upstairs, as well as a small round table, flanked by two gold, red cushioned chairs. An unlit fireplace was on one wall, which had small matryoshka dolls on the mantle, as well as some cheap artwork. Two dimly lit torch-style wall lamps were the only other lighting in the room, which looked straight like the bad guy's underground secret hideout in every Hollywood movie ever made.

Phoenix was puzzled, even as he obediently took a seat at the table across from Boris as Natasha had indicated him to do.

"What is all this?" He asked them, watching as the woman expertly cut and began dealing a deck of cards to the men. "What is this place?"

"Welcome to the _Hydeout_ , Phoenix," Natasha intoned smoothly as she finished dealing the last of the cards to them.

"We thinkink you need gettink new job," the Russian man smirked, sliding his cards towards himself.

"New job?" Phoenix echoed blankly, wondering if the sub-Arctic temperature was beginning to affect his brain. "Does this mean you're firing me from playing the piano upstairs in the bar?"

"You thinkink we be _keepink_ you?" Boris scoffed. "How you Americans say? You _suckink_ as pianist."

"Dahlink, _sharrup your mouth!"_ Natasha's tone was poisonously sweet, even though the smile she flashed at her employee was best described as _calculating_. "We no hire you for your musician skills, Phoenix. We have seen all we need to see tonight that ah, perhaps being pianist is not where your true talents lie."

"You mean you're _firing_ me?"

The hobo felt a cold sweat breaking across his brow, despite the cold of the room.

" _Please_ don't fire me! Give me another chance! I will go home tonight and practice my tail off to create original, _non-Disney_ music for tomorrow night!" He emphasized, looking beseechingly at the couple. "I can't lose this job. I have a little girl at home, and I need to support her…"

" _Zatknis!"_ Boris snapped at Phoenix, miming the zipper across the mouth motion with his heavily jeweled hand. "As you Americans like sayink – zip your lip, _durak!"_

He then caught his wife's icy glare and shriveled down a bit in his seat.

"Sorry, _Kotik_ , he talkink too much!" He protested weakly.

" _You_ _sharrup your mouth_ , Dahlink," Natasha commanded, frowning darkly at her husband. "Just sit while _I_ do talking."

She turned back to the spiky-haired man and spoke in a kinder tone.

"We not firing you from our bar, Phoenix. We like to be keeping you. That's why we bring you here. You play poker?"

"A – A bit…" He stuttered, his mind flashing back to the last time he'd played a winning hand of poker with a man, a fateful game which, despite winning, had ultimately cost him his job and everything he'd lived for. "I don't know how good I am though…"

"You were famous, brilliant defense attorney, no?" She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow. "We hear all about your big-winning streak. You were the Baron of Bluffing, _da_?"

"Y-yes, b-but –"

"No _buttsky_. This be your official job interview, Phoenix Wright." Boris gave a humorless leer. "You beatink me at poker, you keep job, and this room being your new 'office'. You lose, and we say bye-bye. We have deal?"

 _How has life come to this?_ Phoenix thought frantically. All those years in law school, at being a champion of justice for the underdog … completely vanquished. Now his life consisted of having choices and making decisions that were going to be left to a game of _chance?_ Of _luck_? Moreover, his current future seemed to rest, _yet again_ , on a mere deck of cards!

He'd _literally_ become _fortune's fool!_

But Natasha had been right about one thing. He _had_ been the Baron of Bluffing. It had partially been why he had been a successful defense attorney and what had won him his last game. He'd done it before, and he'd do it again.

_Move it or lose it, lose it and you'll learn from it, but never give up._

Phoenix was steely-eyed with determination as he coolly met Boris' gaze across the table.

"Let's dance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foreigner – I'm Gonna Win


	16. A Jack of All Trades, Master of Some

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to gamble, I tell you I'm your man  
> You win some, lose some, all the same to me
> 
> The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say  
> I don't share your greed, the only card I need is the Ace of Spades  
> The Ace of Spades
> 
> Playing for the high one, dancing with the devil  
> Going with the flow, it's all a game to me
> 
> Seven or eleven, snake eyes watching you  
> Double up or quit, double stake or split, the Ace of Spades  
> The Ace of Spades
> 
> You know I'm born to lose, and gambling's for fools  
> But that's the way I like it baby  
> I don't wanna live forever  
> And don't forget the joker!
> 
> Pushing up the ante, I know you gotta see me  
> Read 'em and weep, the dead man's hand again
> 
> I see it in your eyes, take one look and die  
> The only thing you see, you know it's gonna be the Ace of Spades  
> The Ace of Spades

**_Phoenix Wright and Shady Russian Bar Owners  
_** _The Hydeout_  
May 12, 2019, 9:45 PM

Phoenix's face was a mask of grim determination as he listened intently to Natasha while she explained what the chips were worth. They had some illogical system where the bigger chips were worth less than the smaller chips.

She caught his perplexed look and smirked.

"It was my husband's idea to do this way."

Boris's shoulders went up in a noncommittal shrug.

"You must do what you can to keepink things interestink."

The Russian man didn't appear to be the sort who needed to be worried about having a boring life, but Phoenix wisely said nothing. He anted.

He got dealt a jack of spades, a king of spades, a ten of hearts, a seven of diamonds, and a ten of clubs.

 _A freaking pair of tens! Crap! I've got a couple of spades. I could go for a flush…or I could just toss out everything but the pair and hope for the best, but I won't get lucky enough to get a full house or anything. I could decide to ditch the jack and the seven and keep the king and the pair of tens. If I chuck the king it will reveal that all I've got is a pair, and considering it's only a pair of tens, I'd rather bluff a little_.

He turned over the cards that he'd been dealt and couldn't believe his luck. Another ten! He knew better than to smile.

Three of a kind wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either, especially when it was only tens. He flipped over the other card and hurray – it was _a king!_ The king of hearts.

Boris placed his bet, but Phoenix could tell the other man had no confidence in his hand. He might as well raise him. He was certain he had the winning hand, but if he was too obviously cocky, the Russian would fold. Then again, Boris would expect Phoenix to raise him. It was part of the dance.

If he did it nonchalantly, his boss would have to hazard a guess as to what his opponent had up his sleeve.

Phoenix tossed some chips on the pile. "Raise you."

The Russian man's eyes widened a tad, but he was too proud to not see the raise even though Phoenix was positive he had zilch.

"Ready?" Natasha asked coolly.

Boris flipped his cards over. "Pair of Jacks."

Phoenix shook his head.

 _Man, is he ever a shitty card player_. _Was this supposed to be a **challenge**?_

"Full house."

He slid his winnings towards him and barely resisted a smirk at the dumbfounded look on Boris's face. Natasha was more composed, but Phoenix caught the pleased glint in her eye before he turned back to her still stupefied husband.

"Another game?" He offered affably, with a perfectly straight face.

"No thankink you," Boris pouted, huffily crossing his arms across his chest like a recalcitrant child. "Beginner luck, I tellink you! Let's seeink if you can doing this again tomorrow."

Natasha flashed what could only be described as a Cheshire cat grin.

"Welcome aboard, Phoenix Wright," she purred.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright_**  
 _Outside The Borscht Bowl Club_  
May 12, 2019 10:00 PM

The owners had decided to let Phoenix leave his shift early as it was his first night and they felt they had seen all they needed to see. They outlined what it was that they wanted from him if he wished to continue to be in their employment, and he'd agreed to their terms.

The rules were simple. They didn't care that he was the shoddiest piano player to ever grace the walls of their establishment. It was merely a front for his real job, which nobody else was privy to know about, not even Tyler or Tiffany.

They wanted a poker shark. Someone so good at the game that eventually their business would be bustling and folks would come from far and wide to play 'the undefeated champion'. That was the one caveat. Much like his undefeated winning record in court, (the one Matt Engarde case he'd lost on purpose notwithstanding), having a flawless winning streak was contingent to him keeping his reputation, and in this instance, his job. It was a tall order, but Phoenix refused to shy away from the challenge. If he could cross-examine a parrot, he could learn to kick ass at poker. The fine art of bluffing was innate within him, even without his attorney's badge.

However, Boris had implored with him to also work _somewhat_ on his playing so his cover wasn't _completely_ blown.

"I no aksink you to be classical pianist," the Russian had insisted. "But please, no be _so_ badly playink tomorrow? Forget own music, just playink what easy for you, even _Disney_!"

Suddenly his brooding, shyster mug brightened.

"Maybe you can make way to confusing people to thinkink you more good than you are…"

 _That's how I got this job in the first place_ , Phoenix thought wryly. _By wowing poor Tyler with the one song I actually knew how to play and playing a few bars of basic tunes even a monkey could do!_

"What my husband means," Natasha intervened blithely. "Is perhaps you make diversion for people from your … simple playing skills. Can you sing?"

"Only in the shower," Phoenix had lied easily.

Her eyes had narrowed dangerously.

"It be no worse than your playing," she decided. "You practice that too. Sing or play, I don't care. You perform more often whatever the people be hating less. I lettink you decide."

"Sure, no problem. Good night guys. See you tomorrow."

Phoenix smiled weakly and gave a half-hearted thumbs-up sign of acquiescence before he glumly headed out the exit and up the stairs back to the bar, wondering how on earth he was going to fulfill the monumental delivery of what he'd just promised.

_To earn respect, you must earn your own self-respect before you can expect others, to respect you. Ergo, all I've got to do is morph into a champion poker player to prove to the owners that tonight wasn't a fluke victory, and also become a passable pianist and/or singer of some sort... overnight! It can happen! After all, miracles occur every day, right?_

He chuckled bitterly to himself as he trudged out the door and waited at the bus stop outside the bar.

_Basically, to keep this crummy gig and support myself and my daughter, all I had to do was basically swear a blood oath to a probable Russian gangster and his mafia princess wife that I'd become master card player/cabaret star by **tomorrow**. Of **course** , I can do that! Why the hell not? I can also be a loving father, a long-distance boyfriend, learn to speak five languages, volunteer at the local orphanage and become a stunt car driver by the day **after** tomorrow, to boot! Piece of cake!_

Phoenix was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even feel the first few droplets of water hit his forehead until he looked up at the sky and noticed a steady drizzle had begun to fall. His bus wasn't due for another half hour, and of course, the bus stop had no shelter. He didn't even have an umbrella to duck under. A clap of thunder was heard overhead just then.

_Wow, I'm hoping that's not supposed to be taken as an omen about my probabilities of achieving these lofty goals…_

"Hey buddy, you need a lift?"

Phoenix turned around and saw Tyler exiting the bar doors just behind him, a newspaper held over his head to keep him dry from the increasingly steady rain.

"Hi, Tyler." He smiled at his friend. "Um, that would be great, but which way are you headed?"

"We live just over by Calico Drive and Olympic Avenue."

"I live on the opposite side of town, but I need to go pick up my daughter from her sitter and the place is just over on Palisades and Bouclair. Is that out of your way?"

"Not at all. We pass that way every day. I'm sure Sasha won't mind dropping you off."

"If you're sure it's not too much of an imposition…" _A warm car sounds much more welcoming than turning into a drowned rat waiting for my bus for another 25 minutes, **any** day._ "I'd be happy to get a lift. Assuming your wife doesn't mind?"

"Nah, she's cool that way. Normally she'd be here already but she probably got slowed down a bit by the rain."

"Tyler," Phoenix began awkwardly, once again touched by the young man's kindness. "I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble with the owners because of my lousy playing tonight. And if you did, I'm so sorry."

"Nah, the worst thing Boris could do was call me a tone-deaf _durak_ for hiring the likes of you." The bartender shrugged. "Natasha just literally bopped him on the head like she always does whenever he gets out of line or too rude with the staff, and forced him to apologize to me. She knows that ultimately, I can only recommend a new recruit, and it's their final call to decide on my selection of hires. Boris just likes to grumble and pretend he's a pit-bull when we all know he's more of a Chihuahua!"

_Well, he **is** a yapping ankle-biter of a man … I could see him starring in his own fast-food commercials…_

" _Yo Quiero Taco Bell?"_ Phoenix joked in his worst Mexican accent.

"I could _so_ see that!" Tyler laughed at the quip, his dark eyes filled with merriment. "Just like how _everyone_ else can see that his wife is the one who wears the pants in that marriage! Natasha's old man used to own the place before he passed it onto her. Boris just tries to act like a big shot because she's got a butt load more money, _and_ four inches on him! Napoleon complex at its best, really. He likes to act all tough and growl and snarl to try to intimidate the staff until Natasha intervenes and tells him to _'sharrup your mouth, Dahlink!'_

"I notice he always tends to oblige, too!" Phoenix couldn't help but crack up at his friend's dead-on impersonation of the female owner's cartoon-like Russian accent.

"He will if he knows what's best for him," Tyler declared, taking a few sections of his newspaper and handing it to Phoenix for some protection from the rainfall, who accepted it gratefully. "Besides, if anyone should be apologizing, buddy, it's me. I'm so sorry I couldn't help you out with your little, ah, altercation with Tiffany there, but I didn't know what to do! That woman is scary as hell when she's steamed - she's more of a pit-bull than Boris will _ever_ be!"

"Oh, she's not so bad," Phoenix dismissed, feeling a pang of loyalty. "She's just, er, very high-spirited about her musical tastes, I guess?"

"Is that _really_ why she was looking ready to rip you apart earlier tonight?" Tyler looked at him skeptically. " _Merely_ because she objected to you... sub-par piano playing?"

Phoenix could have fibbed about the whole Tiffany situation but opted not to. For one thing, he was going to be forced to bluff for a living now and refused to have to do so when off the clock. And for another, Tyler struck him as a genuinely nice guy who had offered him benevolence, as well as his hand in friendship, while expecting nothing in return. He didn't deserve to be subjected to bullshit. With a sigh, he gave his friend a brief synopsis of the fiasco that had led up his wrath-fueled confrontation with the waitress.

" _Booberella_?" Tyler was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. "Your girlfriend actually called Tiffany that to her _face_?"

"Among other things…" Phoenix admitted. "Although to be fair, Tiffany was being flirty with me because she had no clue about my feelings for Maya and vice versa. She was actually the unassuming, innocent party in that whole series of unfortunate events."

" _Innocent_?" Tyler snorted. "That woman's about as innocent as a black widow! She's a complete man-eater, that one! She's tried to get her fangs into almost every man that's passed through those tavern doors, staff and patrons alike. Some have even succumbed to her wiles, but she chews them up and spits them out like bad tobacco. You'd be wise to keep it zipped around her, buddy."

"Well, luckily for me, having a girlfriend certainly helps keep her bay."

"I'm surprised it did. I'm married and expecting a baby and she _still_ used to hit on me!" Tyler exclaimed. "Of course, she was hitting on me _before_ I got married ... it's been over two years now I've been playing the old duck and dodge game with her."

The guy had been married for two _years_? He must have been barely legal when he got hitched!

"High school sweethearts?" Phoenix asked tentatively. He hated to pry but curiosity claimed the better of him.

"Junior high," Tyler corrected, smiling broadly. "Sasha and I have been together since seventh grade. So nine years now."

Which meant that Tyler had been bartending long before he'd even legally been able to even drink! Phoenix wondered what other sorts of shady activity went on in a place so unscrupulous that they'd hired a 19-year-old to serve alcohol!

"Speaking of my Sasha, there she is now!" Tyler's grin got even wider as a sea-foam green Viper suddenly pulled up to the curb right next to them. He walked over to the passenger window and tapped on the glass, signaling his wife to roll the window down. "Hey, baby. Do you mind giving my pal Phoenix a ride? He's not too far from our place."

"As long as he doesn't mind squishing in the rear next to the groceries – the boot's too full!" Sasha replied cheerfully in a lilting British accent, flashing Phoenix a warm smile. "Come in on my side, love, I have all the packages behind the passenger seat."

Tyler sat down in the front as Sasha got out of the car and lowered the driver's seat forward so the new faux pianist could get in.

Sasha was tall – the same towering 6' 4" as her husband, so Phoenix was completely dwarfed standing next to her. Her sparkling blue eyes and long, lavender pastel hair, with baby blue tips at the wavy ends, complemented her flawless porcelain skin. She looked like an anime princess come to life, and despite the noticeable baby bump, she was also as pretty as a picture. Tyler was a lucky man indeed.

He climbed into the backseat behind the Amazon woman, barely stifling a grunt as his knees practically hit his chin. Sasha had to push the seat back as far as possible to make room for her long legs and protruding belly.

Tyler leaned over and gave his wife a tender kiss before they headed off.

"Thanks for coming to get me, baby."

"Anything for my love," Sasha replied, taking her husband's hand and squeezing it. "It's bloody well pouring out here now! You two would have been able to swim home in another few moments!" She carefully maneuvered the car along the slickly wet streets and caught the new hire's eye in the rearview mirror. "So, do you work at the bar with my husband, Phoenix? How are you liking it there?"

"Yes, I'm the new pianist," he replied. "It's all right … I had some, ah, mixed reviews about my performance tonight. Normally, I'd be getting off later at 2:00 but they let me go early because it was my first night."

"Made the hairs on their heads stand up enough for the night already, did you?" Tyler teased.

"Hey buddy, _you're_ the one who hired me!" Phoenix shot back with a grin.

"I didn't know how bad a rookie you were when I decided to take a chance on you, and that's the story I'm sticking to!" Tyler jibed.

"Tyler, don't be such a tosser!" Sasha scolded. "That's no way to talk to a budding musician! How would you like it if I were to be taking the piss out of you every time you hit on the wrong note on our harmonium?"

She caught Phoenix's confused look in the mirror and gave a cheeky grin.

"My husband's not one to talk about musical talents, Phoenix. I've been trying to teach him the harmonium at home so he can play music for our baby when it's born, and let me tell you, it's been quite the work in progress. You may have made the owner's hair stand on end, but this one here can bloody well make me _split_ mine at times, let me tell you!"

"I know I'm a challenge," Tyler sighed. "Thanks for not giving me yet, baby."

"You know I'd never give up on my love," she replied softly. "We'll make a brilliant musician out of you yet!"

The unmistakable love between the young couple was touching to see, and impossible to miss. While it made Phoenix smile to himself, there was an aching pang of longing inside his heart which also could not be denied.

_God, I wish you were here. I miss you so damn much, Maya!_

They arrived at the apartment complex the spiky-haired man indicated, and he profusely thanked the couple again before dashing inside. Luckily, the rain had let up mostly by then and had dulled down to a slow drizzle so he didn't get too wet making the trip from the car to the lobby and buzzed himself in.

Stepping into the elevator, he leaned back against the wall and sighed tiredly, gently rubbing his forehead in an effort to keep his pending headache at bay.

_What a night!_

Despite the unexpected reprieve of the shortened shift that night, his eyes were heavy as he let out a deep moan of exhaustion. Between the owners and Tiffany, the stressful events of the evening had truly left him drained. He wondered if the sitter would object to him and Trucy crashing there for the night, as he'd be loath to wake his daughter up to take her to home. It was late and a school night, something he hadn't considered when he'd made the frantic call earlier that day in desperate search of a babysitter.

Stepping out of the elevator, he sleepily lumbered through the apartment corridors as he searched for the right apartment and knocked on the door.

After a night like this one, he couldn't wait to give to see Trucy's cherubic face and give her a kiss goodnight, which he did every night, even long after she'd gone to bed, which, given the late hour, she was most certainly already had.

The door swung open.

And the sight that greeted him made his heart leap high into his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motörhead - Ace Of Spades


	17. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the dealer dealt the cards to everyone,  
> I could see that I was free.  
> I had an ace of hearts, the dream of every man,  
> And I could see my destiny.  
> I can not justify the way I play,  
> But only see them as they fall.
> 
> The diamond Jack  
> Black magical Lady Luck,  
> Who will show me the way.
> 
> When you have your freedom  
> Without worldly care,  
> Around human share.  
> Along the way there's evil waitin' for you,  
> And evil's not judge and jury, but yourself.
> 
> When you're tired to the bone  
> Remembrance gone,  
> And you have cast your dice,  
> Take your chances as they come, one by one,  
> The hand of fate is as cold as ice.

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
Babysitter Headquarters_  
May 12, 2019, 10:45 PM

Phoenix stood there inside the door, mouth agape and completely aghast at the sight before him. His gaze was riveted, in fascinated horror, on the unexpected sight of his _eight-year-old_ little girl, who was still awake _at quarter to eleven_ on a school night!

As if _that_ wasn't bad enough, the pink blur that used to be Trucy Wright was bouncing off the walls of the apartment and knocking over everything in sight, leaving an alarming state of disarray in her wake - there were broken knickknack pieces on the floor, paintings knocked off the walls and replaced with colorful crayon scrawlings, and varying stains on the floor. The place appeared as if a nuclear bomb had hit it!

_On top of all of this_ , the normally well-behaved little magician was running amok - at warp speed - in circles around the room, under the helpless watch of her bedraggled baby sitters, blissfully ignoring their pleas to calm down as they tried unsuccessfully to catch the lighting fast child zipping by them as she alternated between laughing gleefully and jabbering so quickly that it came across as incomprehensible gibberish; she may as well have been babbling in a foreign language.

Phoenix remained in flabbergasted silence at the chaos. He observed the erratic rush of adrenaline the child was feeling for another gobsmacked moment before his senses returned. Jolted into attention, having been properly awoken by seeing the girl like this, he, at last, found his voice.

" _What in God's name is going on here_?!"

He had to yell to make his voice heard over the adult's hapless cries of chagrin and Trucy's bouncing and running all over the place.

The greenhorn card shark's accusing gaze first met the shamefaced ones of his daughter's temporary guardians, before casting downward to the newly stained area rug. His question was answered when his sharp eyes spotted a small ripped open package next to scattered chocolate pellets emptied next to it. As he knelt to examine it, the ex-lawyer's eyes shot wide open as the pieces of this puzzle clicked together inside his head.

_A sugar rush!_

The new Papa straightened up, his left hand tightly gripping the empty package of the saccharine evidence in a death grip. All traces of exhaustion within him were completely abolished as he glared at the accused party.

"What the _hell_ did you careless clods do to my _daughter_!? _"_ He inquired sharply, his dark blue gaze burning with the same fire the other two were all too familiar with, having been around to witness it in court on numerous occasions when he'd shouted _Objection!_

Phoenix was not a delusional man under normal circumstances. At 5'9" and 170 pounds, he knew he was relatively fit and in good shape, what with all the walking and biking he did as he had no car. However, he was also well aware of his limitations when it came to bodily confrontations and thus was not the type to ever instigate any sort of physical altercation. As a peace-loving patron, he tended to avoid them at most costs.

In short, he didn't pick fights with people bigger than him when he knew he'd probably get his ass kicked.

However, in his current state of mind, it completely eluded him that Dick Gumshoe was built like a human refrigerator and had at least 40 pounds of muscle and six inches on him and without contest, would make minced meat out of him if ever provoked to do so.

The former ace attorney rushed up to his friend without thinking, seizing the fabric of the larger man's shirt, and thus prompting the detective to shrink back a bit in slight guilt.

"Gumshoe, you freaking _idiot!"_ Phoenix tightened his grip, teeth bared. "You fed my daughter _chocolate_ , didn't you?"

"It – it wasn't my fault, pal!" Gumshoe protested, recovering from the surprise attack and removing the irate father's clenched mitts off of him with insultingly easy agility. He gently but firmly held onto his friend's hands with his own ham-sized ones to prevent further attack. "Trucy got into my secret stash!"

"It's true, Sir!" Maggey cried out, rushing to stand between the two and plaintively placing her hand on Phoenix's arm in an attempt to calm him. "We tried to child-proof the place as best as we could but somehow she got into Dick's hidden stash of chocolate-covered coffee beans!"

The pianist stepped back from the burly man and abruptly swiveled his head towards his friend's wife, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Are you telling me that Trucy is not just suffering from a _sugar_ rush, but also _caffeine_ high?" He demanded incredulously. "Are you freaking kidding me?!"

"She pushed a chair against the counter and climbed into the cabinets up top," Gumshoe admitted miserably. "I had just gone to make her a snack and the wife was in the bathroom at the time..."

"I'm _pregnant_!" Maggey wailed. "I'm due in _three_ months! I _always_ need to go pee! It's why we were so late coming to pick you and Maya up for her party, remember?"

"When did this happen?" Phoenix asked wearily, the anger draining out of his voice and being replaced by resignation.

"About two hours ago," the mama-to-be told him.

"She did all _this_..." the hobo gestured at the disastrous mess around him, open-mouthed in shock. "In _two hours_?"

"She did all that within about _30 minutes_ ," Gumshoe corrected, striding across the room and plucking the little girl from the heavy window drapes, which she'd been attempting to climb like a miniature spider monkey. He brought the squirming pink bundle over to Phoenix and deposited her at her father's feet.

"She's _been_ like this for the last two hours," Maggey informed grimly.

Trucy finally stopped to catch her breath and lifted the brim of her pink silk hat, which although knocked askew, had somehow managed to remain on her head. She smiled brightly up at Phoenix, noticing his presence for the first time.

"Hi, Daddy!" She chirped.

"Hi, baby girl," Phoenix struggled to keep his voice level as he looked down at Trucy, whose overly brightened eyes were the size of saucers. "What's this I hear about you sneaking some candy?"

"Ummm... I had some of Uncle Gumshoe's chocolate raisins," Trucy admitted sheepishly. "They tasted so yucky though! All bitter ... I think they went _bad!"_

"Did you _ask_ Uncle Gumshoe if you could eat his 'chocolate raisins' Truce?" Phoenix asked, struggling to keep a straight face as the actual hilarity of the situation kicked in. "Or did you just help yourself to them?"

"No, I didn't," she confessed, then turned apologetic china doll eyes towards the detective and his wife. "I'm sorry! But I was _so_ hungry! And I know you offered to make ramen noodles for me, Uncle Gumshoe, but that's _all_ Daddy and I eat at home! I just was in the mood for something else for a change..."

"OK, that's enough, Trucy," Phoenix interrupted, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He reached down and lifted his daughter into his arms, pressing her head against his shoulder and effectively silencing her from any other ramblings. He gave her a gentle squeeze. "How about a hug for Daddy?"

"I'm so happy you're home, Daddy!" Trucy squealed, lifting her head and throwing her tiny arms around his neck, effectively vanquishing any lingering feelings of annoyance Phoenix had had within him. A quick glance over her head showed no hard feelings on the faces of Gumshoe and Maggey either, just sheer relief that the situation was now under control.

"I'll help you clean up this mess, I promise. Gumshoe, Maggey, I'm so sorry for the trouble she caused," Phoenix mumbled, his face red with mortification. "I haven't had any sweets to give her at all ... money's been tight, so she must have been like the proverbial kid in a candy store when she saw what she thought were goodies in your cupboards ... especially after living the past few weeks on cereal and instant noodles..."

"Don't sweat it, pal," Gumshoe assured him, smiling benignly. "You needed a sitter, and we were happy to help you out. Figured it would be good practice for when our own little one arrives."

"I thought I'd gotten enough experience when I babysat Pearl last month," Maggey admitted. "But _she_ was much tamer – although to be fair, she didn't consume copious amounts of _caffeine and sugar_ that night, either! I figure after this particular experience, Dick and I are ready for _anything_!"

The understanding and compassion of his friends were overwhelming. Phoenix swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't even begin to voice the words to thank them. Instead, he flashed them a heartfelt, grateful smile that spoke more than any words could say, and sank gratefully into the chair Gumshoe pulled out for him, a slightly more subdued Trucy still in his arms.

The little magician lifted her head, which had been snuggling against her father's chest, and smiled winsomely at the couple.

"I can pay you back for your candies, Uncle Gumshoe, Aunt Maggey," she assured them. "I'm going to make some money from a birthday party I'm doing performing magic tricks for my friend Jinxie this weekend!"

"Don't worry about it, Pal," Gumshoe grinned, reaching down and affectionately tapping her on the nose. "You keep your money. Maybe buy something for you and your Daddy to eat other than noodles."

"Besides," Maggey added anxiously. "She'll be dealing with her own payback tomorrow, and possibly the day after, from all those coffee beans she ingested!"

Phoenix nodded in agreement, even as he barely stifled a groan at the realization. He had a feeling that Trucy would be in for a few rough days ahead, as she had eaten way too much sugar for an eight-year-old to digest properly. She would probably get a very horrible stomach ache because of this. Not to mention the ill-effects of caffeine in a child's system.

_Good grief, I hope this doesn't stunt her growth! Or potentially worse, have Mrs. Wretched Beavertail-Face from Social Services get wind of this!_

"She's going to crash hard, and soon," he noted, gently rocking the drowsy child in his arms. "Would it be too much of a hassle to ask you to drive us home now, Gumshoe, so I can tuck her into bed at home?"

"She can sleep here," Maggey offered. "We converted one of the closets into a baby's room and my sister gave us my nephew's old bed, and you can take the couch. You look about ready to crash and burn yourself."

The ex-lawyer dragged his hand down his face.

"It was a rough night."

"Let me make you a little snack – I promise, _not_ ramen!" Maggey joked, waddling over to the kitchen. "Why don't you put Trucy on the sofa for now, and the three of us can play a little catch up while you eat before we all head to bed?"

"You're a gem, Maggey. Thank you."

_Surround yourself with good people who have earned your trust and respect and they will always be there for you._

The pianist carefully rose from his seat and gently placed the droopy-eyed moppet onto the cushions before taking a seat at the dining table next to Gumshoe.

"We can put her to bed later, pal," the detective agreed amiably. "Relax and take a load off!"

Phoenix dove into the grilled cheese sandwich and apple presented before him with gusto. He was beyond famished. His friends eyed him with barely repressed amusement at his record-time food consumption, and he flashed a rueful smile.

"I um, didn't get a chance to have dinner, heh, heh. So tell me, what's been going on with you guys?" He asked the couple. "How have you been?"

Maggey came and sat down on Gumshoe's lap.

"We do have some news, but first and foremost, how have _you_ been?" She asked kindly. "I know a lot has happened since...um, _the incident._.."

"You mean since I lost my badge and since gained a daughter?" He supplied dryly. "You don't have to mince words, Maggey. It is what is. Tonight is earlier than I normally will be home from this gig; they just let me go early as it was my first night. The shift runs from 6:00 in the evening till 2:00 in the morning Thursday to Sunday. I got myself a job as a piano player at The Borscht Bowl."

Gumshoe had taken a swig of cola while Phoenix had been speaking, and nearly did a spit take upon hearing the news.

" _You_ are going to be playing piano, pal?" The flatfoot was the epitome of discombobulation "At the _same_ place where you made your debut last month?"

"The very same. Trust me, Gumshoe, the irony isn't lost on me."

"Inconceivable, pal!" Gumshoe objected, never one to miss stating the obvious. "You can't play the piano!"

"Why wouldn't Phoenix be capable of doing so, Dick?" Maggey asked blankly, whose delicate condition and babysitting duties that night had not allowed her to be privy to the acclaimed performance the previous month. "As his friends, we should be supportive and tell him he can do _anything_ he puts his mind to!"

"No, honey, he literally _can't_ play the piano!" Her husband insisted. "As in, he's _no_ musician! He somehow fluked and bluffed his way through that one song for Maya, but ... that's _all_ he knows how to do! He is not capable of playing _any_ other tune! He admitted it himself!"

"Hold it! That is erroneous witness testimony!" Phoenix flashed his best shit-eating grin. "I will have you know that as of today, I can now play a select handful of Disney theme songs!"

Gumshoe looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"And _this_ is what they want you to do for your new job? When you told me earlier you'd gotten a gig at a certain type of bar, I briefly wondered if you were going to venture into being some sort of exotic dancer…"

"Objection! I would _never_ debase myself like that!" Phoenix responded with mock indignation. "I may be broke, but I've got my _dignity_! Plus, how would I possibly explain debriefing for dollars to my kid?!"

_Besides, I am living incarnate proof of why they say white men can't dance, for money **or** for free! Heck, I may as well be a four-legged animal, since I have two left feet!_

The scruffy bumbler smiled sheepishly.

"Believe me, pal, I was _really_ hoping you'd meant you were a waiter or a busboy ..."

"Gumshoe, unless I plan on squeezing myself into a pair of Daisy Duke black shorts _and_ getting a sex change operation, I don't have what it takes to be a server at this joint," Phoenix replied wryly. "And they have a great guy there who does double bartending and busboy duties. They like to keep their costs low, even if that means scrimping on the heat. Don't you remember how sub-zero the temperature was?"

"How could I forget? Maya almost turned into a Smurf that night, she was so blue!"

"Anyway ... to be honest ... they don't actually want me for my sub-par pianist skills so much as for my, ah, poker-playing ones."

Gumshoe's head shot up.

" _Poker_?" He repeated sharply. "As in _gambling_? Uh, am I supposed to pretend that I didn't hear that, pal?"

"No, no," Phoenix assured him. "Relax, I can play poker at that place with ease ... not illegally, of course. They play for _glory_ , not _money_. I haven't forgotten I'm talking to a cop, pal!"

"Not anymore you're not!" Maggey declared with a huge smile.

"Say what?" Phoenix's jaw dropped. "Gumshoe, don't tell me you got fired _again_?!"

"Not fired...just retired," Gumshoe told him proudly. "Remember how I helped create the Blue Badger? Well, with the success of Gatewater Land and its merchandise franchise, guess who's finally getting a sweet cut of the royalties...and no longer needs to be a 'Doughnut Boy?'

"C – Congratulations!" While Phoenix was stunned, he was genuinely pleased for his friend. "When did this happen?"

Gumshoe's gaze shifted downward then, and he and Maggey both suddenly looked uncomfortable. "About a month ago, Pal. Shortly after you..."

_Got disbarred_. The unspoken words hung over the three of them like an awkward cloud.

"I tried to call you, Pal," Gumshoe mumbled, scratching his head nervously. "So many times! But every time I tried to reach you..."

_I didn't pick up my phone or answer my door for two weeks. Right._

"Listen, pal, no need to feel bad!" Phoenix told the former flatfoot. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to celebrate your good news right after the fact, but I'm here now, and I toast you!"

He raised his Coke in a toast.

"Hurray for fulfilling the ultimate American Dream and _sticking it to The Man!_ Cheers to you, _former_  
Detective Gumshoe!"

"Here, here!" Maggey agreed happily, raising her can as well and clanking it against first Phoenix's, then her husband's.

They all took a chug of their sodas.

"So, what does all this worldly wealth mean now?" Phoenix asked. "Does this mean you're going to move from here? And get rid of those trench-coats?"

Even behind her glasses, Maggey's exasperated eye roll was evident.

"Yes, after the baby is born, and no ... he won't _let_ me!" She grumbled. "He insists on still wearing them all the time because he thinks they're his 'trademark.'

"I threw out all the old ones _except_ for the one you bought me," Gumshoe reminded her.

"And then insisted on going out and buying new ones!" She exclaimed.

"They're _designer_ trench coats, honey!"

"I still can't believe I haven't burned them yet..." she muttered darkly.

"Come on, Maggey." Phoenix barely stifled a laugh. "You fell in love with him when he was still rocking that coat! Surely you must have _some_ sentiment?"

"For the _man_ , not the coat," Maggey grumbled. "Do you know he insists on wearing them even when we go to a fancy, five-star restaurant?"

"The real swanky kind that only _Mr. Edgeworth_ could afford before," Gumshoe bragged shamelessly.

"Sweetheart, I keep trying to tell you that your trench coats are not suitable attire for places that require a suit and jacket dress code!"

"Come on, honey! They're still fancy trench coats, with silk underlining and detailing and big gold buttons!"

Maggey face-palmed.

"I give up!" She turned to their guest and shrugged resignedly. "Hell, I _tried_! You can take a detective out of the police department, but damned if you can get the trench coat off of the detective!"

Phoenix decided the time had come to try to change the subject.

"So essentially, they want me to be a poker shark," he told his friends, ignoring Gumshoe's reflexive Cop cringe at the not-so-legal sounding phrase. "You guys feel up to a few practice rounds?"

"Sure, let me deal." Maggey fished out a deck of cards, then, with surprisingly expert flair, shuffled and dealt them. "Since we're friends here, I'm assuming this is a _friendly_ game? Fancy playing with some M & M's as betting chips?"

"Sure," Gumshoe chuckled. "Red ones are high, greens are low."

Phoenix anted, then looked at the dispensed hand and inwardly cursed. There was a king of clubs, a jack of spades, a two of hearts, an Ace of diamonds, and a two of clubs. All he had worth mentioning was a couple of lousy deuces!

He looked at Gumshoe and tried to read his expression, but for once the normally animated man's face was as stoic as a rock.

He turned over his cards he'd been dealt and saw that he had another two. Woot!

The big man pushed four red candies forward.

"Raise you."

Phoenix was surprised. He had three of a kind, but it wasn't that great when it was only two's. He was debating about his odds as he turned over the other card. Another Ace! He had a full house now.

He saw Gumshoe's raise.

"Ready?" Maggey asked.

Phoenix flipped his cards.

"Full house."

His opponent flipped his own cards over and clapped a dismayed hand to his forehead.

"Oh, crap jacks! I only had a pair of kings!"

"Then why did you raise him?" His wife snapped peevishly.

"I was trying to _bluff!_ " Gumshoe cried feebly.

"I win!" Phoenix grabbed his 'winnings' and popped a green M & M in his mouth with a smirk.

"Dick, you can't bluff for beans!" Maggey declared. "Let me show you how it's _really_ done!"

Gumshoe dealt the next hand, and Phoenix realized he'd finally met his match. Maggey raised the ante immediately with a pile of reds after being dealt, while all he had was a pair of Kings. He looked across the table at her pretty, inscrutable face.

"Where did a nice girl like you learn how to play poker like this?" He teased.

"Less talk, more play," Maggey growled. "Are you going to see my raise or not?"

Phoenix hesitated. It wasn't like his friend of normally sunny disposition to be so – curt. She sure took this game seriously! Which meant she probably had a blockbuster hand. He put his fingers on some red M & M's and hesitated for a brief moment.

"Daddy?"

With a start, he turned his head and found his sleepy-faced daughter standing by his elbow, rubbing her eyes. When had she woken?

"Truce, what are you doing up? You have school tomorrow!"

"I wanted a glass of water," Trucy yawned. She leaned forward and looked at his hand with interest, then at Maggey. Then she looked back to her father and gave the slightest, surreptitious nod of her head to him. Surprised, he contemplated whether to accede or not for a moment, then mentally shrugged and tossed down a handful of red candies.

"I see your raise and double it."

Maggey's lips parted in a soundless gasp.

"Ready?" Asked Gumshoe.

Phoenix flipped his cards. "Pair of kings."

Maggey avoided Phoenix's eyes as she slowly turned her cards over. She had nada. Zilch. Not even a pair. Amazed, he swung his eyes back to his daughter. How had she known that Maggey's bravado had all been a bluff? Or had it merely been a lucky guess?

"I'm going to get her that water," he told his friends, getting up and following Trucy to the kitchen.

"Trucy!" He urgently whispered in her ear as she took a long gulp of water. "How did you know Maggey was bluffing? I was so sure she had a killer hand!"

Trucy shrugged. "It was so obvious to me! She got all loud and gruff…and she was puffing out her chest a bit to look bigger and meaner…to hide the fact that she didn't have anything!" She caught her father's questioning look and beamed mischievously. "My other Daddy was big on the poker scene and always took me with him. I know everything there is to know about poker, and its players. I could tell who had a good hand or not just with a quick look at their faces. Daddy never lost a game with me. He claimed he only lost that one game to you because I wasn't there!"

Was this all nonsensical children's prattle merely a residual result of the caffeine and sugar high, or was his daughter _seriously_ claiming…?

Phoenix peered searchingly into Trucy's eyes.

"Baby girl, do you think you could do that again, with Uncle Gumshoe?"

"Sure, I could, Daddy," she shrugged. "It's a piece of cake for me. That is – if you _want_ me to."

"Trust me, baby girl, I really, _really_ want you to." Phoenix winked conspiringly at his daughter. "When all is said done…you and me…I think we're going to be alright, after all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishbone Ash – Diamond Jack


	18. Keep Your Head Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lost touch with my soul  
> I had nowhere to turn  
> I had nowhere to go  
> Lost sight of my dream,
> 
> Thought it would be the end of me  
> I thought I'd never make it through  
> I had no hope to hold on to,  
> I thought I would break
> 
> I didn't know my own strength  
> And I crashed down, and I tumbled  
> But I did not crumble  
> I got through all the pain
> 
> I didn't know my own strength  
> Survived my darkest hour  
> My faith kept me alive  
> I picked myself back up
> 
> Hold my head up high  
> I was not built to break  
> I didn't know my own strength
> 
> Found hope in my heart,  
> I found the light to life  
> My way out the dark  
> Found all that I need  
> Here inside of me
> 
> I thought I'd never find my way  
> I thought I'd never lift that weight  
> I thought I would break
> 
> I didn't know my own strength  
> And I crashed down, and I tumbled  
> But I did not crumble  
> I got through all the pain
> 
> I didn't know my own strength  
> Survived my darkest hour  
> My faith kept me alive  
> I picked myself back up
> 
> Hold my head up high  
> I was not built to break  
> I didn't know my own strength
> 
> There were so many times I  
> Wondered how I'd get through the night I  
> Thought took all I could take
> 
> I didn't know my own strength  
> And I crashed down, and I tumbled  
> But I did not crumble  
> I got through all the pain
> 
> I didn't know my own strength  
> Survived my darkest hour  
> My faith kept me alive  
> I picked myself back up
> 
> Hold my head up high  
> I was not built to break  
> I didn't know my own strength
> 
> I was not built to break  
> I got to know my own strength

_**Maya Fey**_  
 _Kurain Village_  
January 24, 2020, 12:00 PM

Ancient sacred traditions. Damn them all. Damn them all to hell.

There was nothing halfway about it. Being Master of the Kurain Channeling technique sucked, plain and simple. It really and truly did.

There were fewer politics, conspiracies and smear campaigns involved in _Presidential election campaigns_ than there were within the semi-crumbling walls and ruins that were Kurain Village!

Maya's new-found position was as set in stone as if she'd inherited the blue blood monarch title of a nation.

It had been determined as her irrefutable birthright and there was no say, _yay or nay_ , in the matter.

This was an unspoken reminder that she was often tempted to voice out-loud to some of the remaining Morgan supporters on the Elder Council, who deemed that succession should be based on ability, not what part of the family tree you were on, and that little Pearl, whom Maya had stated as her second-in-command, was more worthy of the title than she.

The old biddies would have fainted from the shocking irony, had they known that while Maya didn't agree with her aunt's insane attempted methods at securing her cousin the esteemed Master position, if she _had_ been able to step down and give the ten-year-old the task of running the damn village and all the headache-inducing bullshit that went with, she bloody well _would_ have!

Nearly a year into the role, Maya still hadn't quite ascertained how there could be so much controversy over a position that was undisputedly inherited, much like a royal title. Hence, it was a topic that should have required neither debate nor discussion, much like the decisions she made as Master.

Yet that was exactly what she'd been facing regularly since day one with the disapproving Council of Elders, who had been running the matriarchal society since her mother had left.

On numerous occasions, and with complete exasperation veering on hysteria, Maya had pondered the lunacy of how it was that she had to _fight for the right_ to make decisions and maintain being in a position that she'd never even _wanted_?

The village had been without its master for 17 years and while outwardly appearing to function well, was breaking at the seams. Nobody had made a budget since Misty Fey vanished, though many members of the clan still saw fit to spend the family's vast pile of money regardless. Many of the buildings started to crumble without proper maintenance, leading to collapses and injuries.

All of these things would have to be dealt with, and quickly.

Some of the branch family members took some control into their hands during the long break but were unable to legitimize their power. They had no respect for Maya's authority. They glared with spite and resentment at her as she claimed her unwanted position, and she, in turn, ignored them as usual and mentally flipped them the finger as she did so.

She still had more plans for enhancing the place and didn't give a damn if the disapproving old hags didn't like it.

_Changing careers is something that takes you forward into unexplored territory, but you need not get scared. Maybe it's exactly where your success is hidden. Explore it well and you will find._

For instance, Maya saw no correlation of how a customary _enforced vegetarian diet_ enhanced spiritual prowess in the least. So, to the council's undisguised horror, she had announced at the last meeting, her plans to remedy the fact that there was a _distinct lack of burgers_ in the chef's repertoire!

Why the hell not? It wasn't as if they couldn't _afford_ to make changes and customize the menus to suit specific palettes – mainly, her own!

Maya now had more money than she could ever possibly spend. With those resources at her disposal, she'd finally been able to pull some aspects of Kurain Village and drag it (albeit kicking and screaming!), into the 21st century. Much to the disgruntlement of the village elders, she had brought into fruition her long-ago plans to have not only a cell tower but a satellite receiver as well.

_Hello, cell phone_ _**and** _ _internet service!_

After all, she'd reasoned, what was the point of having a surplus of dispensable income, the same one that had allowed her to fulfill her promise and pre-pay her boyfriend's rent (also, his bills – plagued further by the guilt over all the money he'd spent feeding and lodging her and Pearly for all those years, she'd also taken to sending him some anonymous cash donations from the fees of her channeling sessions) for the next year or so, if there was no feasible way to _be in touch with him_ while they were apart? While the concept of love letters via snail mail was a romantic notion, no amount of money was going to change the fact that the mail was only collected and delivered weekly to the remote village. Maya's naturally impatient nature wouldn't allow for it.

Ergo, while she had more wealth than she ever could have imagined in her wildest dreams, Maya would have been the first to subscribe to the adage "money can't buy happiness."

It was all too painfully true. Despite the steady comforting presence of her beloved little cousin, the Master had never felt more miserable, or alone, in her entire life.

With Misty Fey's shocking, harrowing death, Maya had been thrust immediately into the role and responsibilities associated with taking over as Kurain Master. Despite having had the impending knowledge of her destiny all her life, Maya always deemed it something which was going to happen _years_ in the future, not _right away_! Now, after barely having the time to mourn her mother's unexpected passing, having the weighty responsibility thrust upon her was tremendously overwhelming, with all kinds of intense preparations, reordering and rearranging of her life. It was a daunting task, but initially, she had motivated herself partially with the consolation that soon she would get her life efficiently sorted, so she could also continue as Phoenix's legal assistant when all was said and done.

But then her boyfriend's life had unwittingly gone to hell in a handbasket, so _that_ option, along with the likelihood of it ever coming to pass in the imminent future, was gone with the wind!

Maya often hated herself for setting back the women's movement and admitting that so much of her life's goals had mostly revolved around a man. It was downright pathetic really, her lack of ambition. She was filled with self-disgust that her hopes and dreams had never centered around the career which was supposed to be her birthright, but had always revolved around Phoenix, initially as his subordinate as General Manager of the Law Office. Then, after they'd gotten together, her aspirations had never ventured further than remaining by his side, but maybe later down the line as his partner, in law _and_ life, perhaps obtaining her degree and becoming a paralegal.

Understandably the _former_ was a goal beyond foreseeable reach at the moment, but would the _latter_ _ever_ come into fruition, or was that too, just a pitiful pipe dream on her behalf?

It had been eight and a half months since she'd seen Phoenix. Since that agonizing fateful day in his office, when he'd told her that he loved her, but he didn't know how they could be together, due to the potential issues it could cause with Trucy's adoption, should Maya turn up as a character assassinating skeleton in his closet.

He had rejected her repeated consequent offers to come and live with her at Kurain, insisting he couldn't subsist in a parasitic lifestyle sponging off her – that it was bad enough he had to rely on her to pay his rent. Besides, there was no way he could justifiably expect her to support his daughter, for whom he was still being forced to undergo the arduous turmoil that encompassed formal adoption. He implored her to concentrate on her own life and position as Kurain Master and not worry about him. Even though Phoenix knew how she felt about him, Maya was unable to properly convey the words to him to make him comprehend that despite everything, she _loved_ him; he was eternally established as a fundamental and irreducible part of her life in her psyche and _that_ was why she'd said she'd wait for him. At the time, he had agreed he _wanted_ her to because he loved her back.

And so the long-distance relationship betwixt them had begun.

Being Phoenix's cloak-and-dagger far-away girlfriend consisted of phone calls, the occasional Skype chats (she'd painstakingly had to explain how it worked and had even mailed him a webcam and instructed him to set it up…and he'd still needed to have _Larry Butz_ come and complete the installation!) and emails galore.

All of these had, of course, been conducted after Trucy had gone to bed. While the calls and chats and emails helped ease some of the pain of separation, it wasn't the same as actually seeing her boyfriend. Of holding him in her arms and kissing him. Touching him. Making love with him.

Maya hated being out of sight – she strived to ensure that it didn't also mean _out of mind_. She did everything she could to keep the newfound distance between them as fun as interesting as possible. On top of racy late-night conversations and random, saucy texts exchanged between them about what exactly they would do to one another if the other were there, she would frequently email amusing online photos, videos and a few jokes to hopefully lighten his mood.

She missed Phoenix so much it hurt. Aside from always having been her knight in shining armor, he'd also always given her a reason to smile - and that had been even before they'd gotten together. _Now_ on top of the pain of missing her best friend, Maya's heart and body ached for her boyfriend. Especially since, as of the last few months, their phone calls had been getting shorter in length and fewer and further in between. It wasn't the fault of either of them. She had her travels and conferences as part of her new role, and Phoenix worked till late in the night most of the week. Maya did her best to stay up for him when he called, but some nights, it was after 3:00 am and she had meetings early the next day and would pass out before she could hear the much needed "sweet dreams, I love you," that she so desperately longed for to achieve a peaceful slumber.

Despite their efforts to work around it, lately, it seemed as though their opposite schedules didn't seem to _ever_ allow them to "reach out and touch each other" whenever intended. Whenever she tried to call him, he more often than not was asleep and had missed her call, or simply wasn't there, and vice versa.

On the occasions they _did_ manage to connect, it seemed that the best way for coping with the difficulty of their situation was to keep their communications to uncontroversial topics and maintain something of emotional isolation between them. Maya didn't want to seem to be intruding or mistrusting of him, or worse, pathetically needy. She stifled the urge to beg him to constantly reassure her that all this agonizing wasn't for naught. That the end justified the means and that she wasn't a fool to be waiting in vain for him; that ultimately, they would be together again, a real family, and parents for Pearl and Trucy.

Losing his attorney's badge was something Maya knew would bother him until he got it back. She knew Phoenix would investigate who set him up and fight to get it back eventually; for all she knew, he had already commenced the process of finding out who framed him. But he had also made it clear that lately settling into life with Trucy was his primary objective.

He didn't want to talk about the disbarring or his situation – it had been almost a year now since it had occurred – and Maya didn't want to upset him by reminding him of it, and she didn't want to bore him with talk of the tediously demanding details of her training and the mentally draining politics involved with her position. It limited topics of conversation greatly to much else than fluff chatter and phone sex.

Maya knew Phoenix had been somewhat emotionally maladjusted since the disbarring, but he did not show warnings of becoming dysfunctional and was proving to be a competent and dedicated parent. Her boyfriend was born to be a dad and despite his initial misgivings, he was a natural with kids, especially little girls. They adored him. Certainly being a single father was tough, but she was glad that he had someone there for him to give him a purpose in life right now; to fill the void in his life that at the moment, _she_ could not.

He certainly appeared to be enamored with Trucy, who his life appeared to revolve around now. The topic of his daughter seemed to be the only thing that seemed to snap Phoenix out of his resigned, dead-man-walking state of being. He proudly boasted about the little girl's perceptiveness and self-reliance; how she helped with chores and made dinner for them and appeared to be more of a mini adult than a child. Maya was thoroughly impressed by all of this, as well as relieved that the little girl appeared more of an asset than a burden in Phoenix's life. She was most taken by how Trucy was already doing paid magic shows at The Wonder Bar and birthday parties.

So she was well aware of how much Phoenix had his hands full being a working single parent. And it was because of that devotion to fatherhood that Maya was uncertain about whether or not the favor she was about to ask would be feasible to agree to, or if it was even prudent to ask.

Japanese customs had dictated since the late 19th century to no longer adhere to the Chinese New Year timeline and marked January 1st, as celebrated in the Western Hemisphere, as the onset date they used per annum. However, Maya had capitalized on and manipulated the fact that since Kurain was so steeped in the ancient cultural traditions and values for everything _else_ , that they should honor the previously historical Eastern date to mark the beginning of the New Year.

Maya had come up with every excuse in the book to delay the inevitability of the Master's inauguration ceremony. She had cited how it was in poor taste, bad luck and not to mention _disrespectful_ to Misty Fey's memory to have a celebratory ritual of _any_ kind in the same year her mother had been killed. Therefore, there was no way she would allow anything of the sort to happen, in any _formal ceremonial capacity,_ even though she'd taken over the Master title last winter. And then she'd stubbornly maintained that stance when the premier date of January had come and gone.

Which brought her to the current date. No amount of delay tactics could change or prevent the fact that tomorrow marked the beginning of the Chinese New Year. And _that_ was the inarguable date when they would have the official initiation ceremony, swearing her in as the sanctioned Kurain Master.

The Master was officially out of ploys, despite her ridiculous, almost childish hopes that since until now, as she had not officially initiated, there was still time to vote that she be given official sanctions as having "abdicated" and voted unfit to be Master by the wretched Elders, who on occasion had claimed they would do just that! Maya now realized, as she should have then, that these had been empty threats and such a ruling would never pass with the required majority.

The time had come. She was going to become undisputed Master of Kurain as of tomorrow whether she liked it or not.

Maya sat there in her bedroom at Fey Manor, staring at the telephone, trying to summon the nerve to make the phone call she yearned to make. She'd been dragging her heels long enough.

_Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained right?_

With a great feeling of trepidation, Maya took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her palms were sweating and made her grip slippery as she picked up the receiver and dialed the number, all the while unable to squelch the despaired agony of rejection she was bracing herself for if the outcome didn't amass in the way she fervently hoped and prayed it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whitney Houston - I Didn't Know My Own Strength


	19. Waiting In Vain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, boy  
> My heart said follow through  
> But I know now that I'm way down on your line  
> But the waiting feeling's fine
> 
> So don't treat me like a puppet on a string  
> Because I know how to do my thing  
> Don't talk to me as if you think I'm dumb  
> I wanna know when you're gotta come, you see
> 
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love  
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love  
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love  
> 'Cause summer is here - and I'm still waiting there  
> Winter is here - and I'm still waiting there
> 
> Like I said -  
> It's been three years since I'm knocking on your door  
> And still I can knock some more  
> Ooh boy, ooh boy - is it crazy look, I wanna know now  
> For I to knock some more  
> You see
> 
> In life I know that there is lots of grief  
> But your love is my relief  
> Tears in my eyes burn  
> Tears in my eyes burn  
> While I'm waitin'  
> While I'm waitin' for my turn  
> You see
> 
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love  
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love  
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love  
> I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
> 
> 'Cause summer is here - and I'm still waiting there  
> Winter is here - and I'm still waiting there
> 
> Like I said -  
> I don't wanna, I don't wanna  
> I don't wanna, I don't wanna  
> I don't wanna wait in vain  
> I don't wanna, I don't wanna  
> I don't wanna, I don't wanna  
> I don't wanna wait in vain
> 
> It's been three years since I'm knocking on your door  
> And still I can knock some more  
> Ooh boy, ooh boy - is it crazy look, I wanna know now
> 
> Like I said -  
> Tears in my eyes burn  
> Tears in my eyes burn  
> While I'm waiting  
> While I'm waiting for my turn  
> You see  
> Ooh boy, ooh boy - is it crazy look, I wanna know now  
> For I to knock some more  
> In life I know there is lots of grief  
> But your love is my relief

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey  
**_ January 24, 2020,12:00 PM

The phone rang half a dozen times before Phoenix answered. His deep, grumbly morning voice sounded like music to Maya's ears. It felt like it'd been ages since she'd last heard it.

"Hello?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead!" Maya trilled, feigning cheerfulness to mask the anxious fluttering of her heart. "Time to join the land of the living!"

" _Maya_?"

He _must_ have been in deep slumber if he wasn't recognizing her voice after _four years_ of knowing it! With a pang, Maya realized that she had indeed woken him and that despite sudden fatherhood, her boyfriend was irrevocably _still not a morning person_! She hoped he wouldn't be too crabby with her.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Nick," she said in an uncharacteristically small voice. "But it's noon, so I figured you'd be up already…"

" _Noon_?!" Phoenix sounded a bit more alert now. "Damn, I am so happy I didn't miss you this time! My love, I'm so sorry we haven't been able to connect lately. Either _you're_ in bed, or _I_ am … curse our stupid opposite schedules! I get home by _three_ in the morning on nights I'm unable to bum a ride with Tyler and have to take the bus … and _then_ I still wake up at seven to get Trucy ready for school, and if I'm fortunate enough I can catch a few more winks after she gets on the morning bus. Normally I'd have been up an hour or so ago…but last night was a rough one…"

"Nick, it's alright, I'm not mad," Maya assured him, so giddy about hearing his voice again that she nearly forgot the purpose of her call. "I know you work nights. Not everyone has to wake up with the birds to start their morning meditation rituals like _I_ do!"

"You've got that right!" He chuckled. She heard him clanking something in the background and then take a large gulp of what she figured was his wakeup java. Nick was completely lost without his morning pick-me-up. "I was going to call you tonight anyway. I have some news for you!"

Maya felt her pulse quicken at the words.

"What a coincidence! _Me_ , too!"

"By all means then!" There was a grin in his voice. "Ladies first."

"No, _you_ first," she insisted. She hadn't heard him sound so peppy in ages, and it appeared to be due to more than just the instant effects of the caffeine ingested.

"Do you recollect me mentioning that miserable battle-axe social worker, _Ms_. Bea Verhunt?"

As if Maya could have ever forgotten the wretched, acrimonious woman who had been making surprise visits to Phoenix for the past year!

The crabby, miserable biddy had made a point of surprise drop-ins which were much more often than the customary once a week visits Children's Services usually opted for. Despite having never met her, Maya had despised the vile, suspicious-minded woman, who she deemed partially responsible for her estrangement from her boyfriend and the unnecessary delays in the adoption process. It'd often seemed as if the crotchety old bag had _wanted_ to catch Phoenix in some sort of foul misdeed with Trucy! The Iron Lady, as Nick had called her, had acted as if being a single father were some sort of unheard-of crime which warranted personalized, scrutinizing watch! Nick had noted that she'd always seemed _disappointed_ when no just cause for such attentiveness had ever been found and that she hadn't been able to make good on her ever-underlying threat to take his daughter from him.

"Of course, I remember! Does she have anything to do with your chipper mood Nick? Did she drop dead of a sudden heart attack?"

" _Almost_ as good," he chuckled. "She's _retired!_ I've been assigned a new social worker, Neal Bender. He and his husband, Bob, recently adopted their toddler, Jade, from China. Therefore, he doesn't share the same bias or prejudice about single fathers adopting a young girl as the cantankerous old coot did! He thinks I'm a great dad and has been putting forward fantastic letters of recommendation on my behalf. I've been corresponding a bit with Edgeworth via email as well…"

"How is he doing?" Maya interrupted, delighted about the direction of this conversation and eager to learn more about their dear friend. Unfortunately, she hadn't heard from the prosecutor since the day he'd boarded his flight abroad when she'd bade him adieu on the phone nearly a year ago.

"Edgeworth seems all right, but he didn't go into much detail as to what he and Franziska have been up to," Phoenix admitted. "You know they're on some top-secret Interpol mission. I think he's in Zheng-Fa now? But he's been giving me some much-needed legal advisement about this whole adoption process. Maya, if all goes well, I may officially be Trucy's legal guardian within the _next six months_!"

The diviner was so ecstatic, she thought she'd burst with joy as she realized what this all signified.

This meant that she and Phoenix would be able to be together again soon – and that they would no longer need to hide their relationship anymore! There would be no more poking into her lover's so-called unscrupulous history with her, and no further boundaries keeping him from becoming a legal father to the little girl he adored. She'd _finally_ get to meet little Trucy and introduce her to Pearl – and they'd be like sisters! _And_ she'd at long last be able to _personally_ ask Trucy how she liked the 'magic panties' she'd sent her for Christmas! (Nick had told his daughter they were from _Santa_ and had assured Maya that Trucy had so loved the gift that she insisted on using them _all the time_ to whip out hidden items … both _on and off_ the stage)!

"You have no idea how happy I am for you," Maya said softly. "It's about time you caught some sort of break."

"No kidding! _Someone_ up there likes me!"

"Someone _down here_ likes you too," she reminded him, swallowing a sudden lump in her throat. " _A lot_. I miss you so much, Nick."

"I miss you too, my love." His voice was filled with tenderness. "The only thing that dampens this joyous news is that you aren't here by my side to celebrate it with me." A long sigh. "But on a lighter note, you said you had news as well. I hope it's good?"

Maya mentally counted to ten, then spewed the words rapidly, before she lost her nerve.

"NicktomorrowismymastercermonyIhavebeentryingtoreachyoufordaystogiveyounoticepleasetellmeyoucancome!"

There was nothing but dead silence on the phone. A _long_ one.

"Hello?" She tapped on the receiver. "Um, hello? Nick, are you still there?"

"Yes..." Her swain cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his tone was rich with amusement. "But now I'm wondering who _I'm_ talking to on the other end of the line? My girlfriend, or _Wendy Oldbag_? Do you want to pause and take a moment to breathe there, Motor Mouth?"

The reference to Edgeworth's geriatric stalker, whom he'd always referred to as the Wicked Witch of the Witness Stand, coupled with the teasing note in Nick's voice, made Maya giggle helplessly in response. Partly it was out of sheer relief to have gotten that load off, and partially because he hadn't immediately negated the request, as she'd feared.

"I've done everything I can to delay the inevitable for as long as I could!" Maya wailed. "I even tried to claim the precise day was not _ours_ to choose, but was required to occur on some specific date associated with the alignment of the stars, planets and spiritual radiation of the current year… anyway, they didn't buy it. It's officially _do or die_ time, and I'm finally out of tomorrows. I was hoping and praying that this was one time you could steal away from prying social worker eyes. And now that it's no longer an issue, all I can say is … hurrah for great timing _for once_!"

She paused to catch her breath.

"So, do you think you can come, Nick? It would mean the world to me if you could!"

"You bet your bottom dollar I will! I'll be there with _bells on!"_ He assured her. "I would have found a way to come even if I _was_ still under constant evil-eye surveillance!"

"What would you have claimed to Children's Services if you were still under watchful eye though?"

"I know what a big deal this is, and would convey it as such. So, I'd tell as much to the truth as possible, I guess, and explain that I was going out of town for a very important graduation ceremony for my dear old friend and former assistant, whom I've not seen since I took Trucy in," he replied simply. "Just let me see who I can get to babysit Trucy for the weekend."

 _Seriously,_ Phoenix thought to himself. _Something must indeed be written in the stars - this really is impeccable timing, because I have_ _ **no**_ _poker tournaments at the bar this weekend!_ _What are the odds?!_

Under any other circumstances, Maya would have leaped at the chance to meet her hopefully future daughter, and offered to have Phoenix bring her along. However, the ancient ritual of inauguration dictated that it be one of utmost solemn sacredness, and ergo, be closed to off to all village outsiders. As it was, she was probably going to have to fight tooth and nail to have _Nick_ be able to attend, and probably would still have to deal with discord from the elders. The family card was exactly the one she planned to play while making the persuasive case for the council to allow Nick to attend the induction ceremony, as he was her 'pillar of strength.'

 _I_ _**need** _ _you, Nick. I need you so much that if the day ever came that you stopped loving me, it wouldn't matter, because I'd still love enough for both of us. If I couldn't have your heart, then I'd cling onto your body at least, my body will be with you even after I die._

It killed her that she had to go through so much strife to have her loved ones be in her life because in the Master's heart of hearts, Trucy was as much a relative to her as Nick was, despite the child being clueless to her existence. It was beyond maddening, as well as despairingly tragic.

"Trucy still doesn't know a thing about me, does she?" Maya realized gloomily.

"She will, as soon as the ink on those adoption papers dry," Phoenix promised. "And she'll love you as much as I do."

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
January 24, 2020, 9:30 PM

As it turned out, the hobo hadn't ended up making any false promises to Maya. There were no obstacles whatsoever that would keep him from going to Kurain that weekend.

Having no champion card tournaments that weekend meant he would not need to bring his daughter into work with him – since the night at the Detective's place when he'd first learned of Trucy's 'special talent' she'd become the main indispensable reason for his still undefeated winning poker streak. Also, luck had it that there were no concerns about whom to leave his precious treasure while he was away.

The ever hospitable Gumshoe and Maggey were always happy to care for Trucy at a moment's notice without any questions, even though the detective insisted on giving Phoenix a totally transparent wink and nod when he dropped his young daughter off earlier that evening, citing that he would require their babysitting duties till Sunday. To his merit, Gumshoe never mentioned the spirit medium by name, but the gleam in his eye told the pianist that he knew very well that they were still together. The former detective understood the need for discretion, for which Phoenix was thankful. Trucy didn't know a thing about Maya and as much as he knew she would adore her "new mom," the timing just wasn't right. He'd tell her one day – when it was safe for them to be together again.

He just didn't know how long that would take.

Maggey had just airily declared that as long as his daughter wasn't traumatized by the sight of baby Gordy latching onto her boob intermittently throughout the night, Trucy was welcome to consider their home her own for as long as she liked. The new parents absolutely adored the little magician; she was ever so cheery and well-behaved and they thoroughly enjoyed her antics. Also, since they'd wisely learned to lock their cupboards, there had been no since repeats of Java Bean Gate – and the feeling was mutual. Trucy saw her beloved Aunt and Uncle as the ever- _captive_ audience to her magic tricks … almost _literally_ one night!

To the Gumshoe's supreme humiliation, during a magic trick gone terribly wrong, Phoenix's daughter had borrowed her uncle's old handcuffs, accidentally linked him and Maggey together… and then had temporarily forgotten the magical words to make the keys re-materialize! The bumbler had then needed to call the station for an officer to bring another set of keys over, and _then_ had spent the entire time futilely explaining to the clearly disbelieving cop that no, he and Maggey _hadn't_ been "engaging in kinky, deviant acts within a child's presence!"

Phoenix paused in his piano playing and decided that he'd been playing broken chords of show tunes long enough. He needed a break. Murmuring into the microphone that there was a 15-minute intermission, he rose from the bench and headed over to the bar to score a grape juice from Tyler.

The young bartender, since the arrival of Petra and Kaya, his unexpected _twin_ baby girls last summer, had been working the longer 5:00 PM to 2:00 AM shift to help make ends meet for his surprise (but welcome) brood! His friend always managed to sneak the new pub employee a few bottles every night, citing that there had to be _some_ perks to working this lousy gig, as long as the penny-pinching Russians didn't find out!

It was unbelievable, really. The same unscrupulous owners who hadn't thought twice about hiring an underage bartender, and who didn't bat an eyelash about a young child hanging out in the seedy underground poker scene, would have blown a gasket if they knew one of their lowly employees, even one who brought in _copious_ amounts of revenue to their business, hadn't paid full-price for a lousy _non-alcoholic_ beverage!

The card shark leaned against the bar and took a long swig of his drink, his thoughts now on Maya. How desperately he'd missed her! If only she knew how she'd been plaguing his thoughts and dreams since the last, passionate moment they'd shared eons ago. How the concept of seeing her again was his sole true joy, save for his daughter, since he'd lost his badge.

He wondered idly if his voracious lover would ever get bored of him, or ponder about what else was out there in the male domain. After all, Phoenix was the only man she had ever gotten involved with, emotionally or physically. He'd broached the subject with her once, telling her there was a chance that what _she_ considered "gratifyingly toe-curling in the sack" (her words) was simply just _fair to middling_ instead of _mind-blowing!_ Maya had just laughed at him then, her beautiful smile lighting up her eyes as she announced that if he was just _standard_ , then _the expert level_ would assuredly land her in traction at the hospital!

He loved that answer. He loved _her_. She always knew just what to say to make him feel good about himself again.

Phoenix had every intention of them finally being together, for good, as soon as Trucy's adoption was finalized. However, until then, this special occasion aside, he didn't know when he'd see Maya next. Their schedules barely allowed them enough time to get it together long enough for a _phone call_ , never mind a _visit_! He didn't want her to feel like he was choosing to pop in and out of her life as if she were a drop-in center. And it was because of that very reason that Phoenix made a firm resolve _not_ to take advantage of her nearness again and show her just _how much_ he'd missed her these past nine months!

He couldn't. He _wouldn't_. He still felt it'd been selfish of him to surrender to the moment _last time_ , even though Maya had made it clear she'd wanted it as badly as he had. Being as close as man and woman could possibly be, despite it being an act of love...in _their_ case, was just wrong. It only made the lengthy separation afterward even more unbearable.

The concept of them secretly stealing sporadic coitus moments, when the _other_ most important girl in his life didn't even know his girlfriend existed didn't sit well with Phoenix. It made it seem as if Maya were some random dirty strumpet he was ashamed of and needed to hide, rather than the future mother of his children!

Was he overthinking? Or possibly insane for putting a lid on an opportunity that any other man would have savored and pounced on at the drop of a hat?

_The first time after we made love, I never called her again. The second time after that, I had to sneak her out of the place like a thief in the night, even though it was broad daylight! I can't keep doing this to her, just hooking up with her every time I see her, whenever circumstances and our lousy schedules allow! I can't ever let her feel like I'm using her for sex. I'm sure we'd both enjoy such secret trysts, but the closeness we share has always been about so much more than just that, and I don't want to lose sight of it._

He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his chin, cringing at the sharp stubble. He definitely needed to shave, something he'd gotten far too lax with lately, before he went up to see Maya tomorrow morning _._ He looked down at his ragged sweatpants and scuffed sandals and let out a rueful chuckle.

_And some part of me doesn't want that beautiful body defiled by the dirty old hobo's, even if it is my own._

Moreover, if they did wind up being intimate again, he didn't think he would be able to let her go this time.

But most of all, Phoenix knew, it was because he very well knew that what Maya truly wanted was precisely what he was unable to give her right now – the commitment of someone who stayed with her, instead of disappearing and leaving her like everyone else had. Her father. Mia. Her mother. Her aunt who'd 'left' her by betraying her and was now rotting in prison for it. Worst of all, when he'd asked her about it, Maya hadn't even been aggrieved of her abandoning relatives, except for Morgan. She'd simply accepted they thought they needed to do something which took them apart from her.

_Perhaps this is part of the reason she grew so attached to me. I came back for her._

Maya deserved a man who would stay and support her every day of her life, instead of just selfishly using her for his own comfort and lustful desires. She deserved nothing less. Part of him was fearful that she might move on and find someone more suited to a woman of her stature, who could better fulfill her needs. Thus far, however, to his intense fortune yet disbelief, she'd made no sign of attempting to do so.

_Maybe I should just tell her point-blank that it's okay, she should find someone more worthy, without all this baggage and hang-ups. But I can't. I'm too selfish. I love her too damn much._

The former attorney was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the slight movement near his side until the shadowy figure was right next to him. Despite the already frigid atmosphere in the bar, the area immediately around him seemed to instantly drop yet another 10 degrees.

"Greetings, _Herr_ Wright," a familiar voice intoned coolly, jarring him from his reverie.

It was right then that Phoenix realized the hairs standing on the back of his neck and the arctic chill going down his spine had nothing to do with the cold room temperature as he looked up at that moment, and met the icy, soulless gaze of The Coolest Defense in the West… L.A. renowned defense attorney, Kristoph Gavin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annie Lennox - Waiting In Vain


	20. Every Breath You Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Who's watching me?)
> 
> I'm just an average man with an average life  
> I work from nine to five, hey, hell, I pay the price  
> All I want is to be left alone in my average home  
> But why do I always feel like I'm in the twilight zone?
> 
> And  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> And I have no privacy  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Tell me is it just a dream?
> 
> When I come home at night  
> I bolt the door real tight  
> People call me on the phone, I'm trying to avoid  
> But can the people on TV see me or am I just paranoid?
> 
> When I'm in the shower, I'm afraid to wash my hair  
> Cause I might open my eyes and find someone standing there  
> People say I'm crazy, just a little touched  
> But maybe showers remind me of Psycho too much
> 
> That's why  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> And I have no privacy  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Who's playing tricks on me?
> 
> (Who's watching me?)  
> I don't know anymore  
> Are the neighbors watching me?  
> (Who's watching?)  
> Well is the mailman watching me?  
> (Tell me who's watching?)  
> And I don't feel safe anymore, oh what a mess  
> I wonder who's watching me now  
> (Who?!)  
> The IRS?!
> 
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> And I have no privacy  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Tell me, is it just a dream?
> 
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> And I have no privacy  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Who's playing tricks on me?  
> (Who's watching?)
> 
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Tell me, who can it be?  
> (Who's watching?)
> 
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Who's playing tricks on me?  
> (Who's watching me?)
> 
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Can I have my privacy?  
> I always feel like somebody's watching me  
> Who's playing tricks on me?

**_Phoenix Wright and Kristoph Gavin  
_** _The Borscht Bowl Club  
_ Jan 24, 2020, 9:35 PM

Despite having just consumed half a bottle of grape juice, Phoenix's throat felt dry as he repressed a shudder of revulsion creeping over him at the sight of the other man.

Save for his spectacles, Kristoph Gavin, with his immaculate grooming, tanned skin, and flaxen braid could have easily been the doppelgänger of his younger brother, Klavier, the 17-year-old prosecutor who'd helped end the anterior Ace Attorney's legal career. The gentlemanly defense lawyer had never expressed anything but friendliness towards the hobo in the past, as well as display utmost sympathy when he'd been disbarred. He'd even offered to take him out for coffee on numerous occasions, for which Phoenix had always politely demurred.

Ergo, the poker champ had no feasible reason for his incomprehensible heightened sense of alarm around the German man and he cursed himself for such an uncharacteristic mindset. When had Phoenix Wright ever been the paranoid type? If anything, he'd always given people the benefit of the doubt and tried to believe the best in them – it had been these character traits that had resulted in his chosen path as a defense attorney rather than a prosecutor.

The beanie-wearer forced himself to shove his queer misgivings aside and offered his new companion a wan smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Gavin," Phoenix asked impassively, attempting to recover his newfound aura of detached, cool composure. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Why so formal? I tell you all the time to call me Kristoph, please. We are friends, correct?" Kristoph smiled, the practiced gesture not meeting his eyes. It never did. "The Borscht Bowl is quite the fine establishment."

The bindlestiff eyed him skeptically. _A fine establishment_? _The Borscht Bowl? This cesspool is the mother of all dives and we both damn well know it!_

In his customary dark blue suit and dark pink tie, Kristoph definitely stood out amongst the usual somewhat scruffy bar clientele.

Tonight's highlights entailed two drunken Russian guys getting into a heated debate at the bar and the drunk, young, fat couple chewing each other's faces off at the dark corner table. The cherry on top had to be the 50-year-old woman with the questionable profession, draped in a mink stole and a sequined gown with a frontal slit cut way too high to leave much to the imagination, swirling around her glass of vodka at the table in the back. It was definitely quiet, especially for a Friday.

However, the pianist didn't mind. Fewer patrons meant fewer people's ears would have to suffer his still lackluster piano playing. And he knew that things would pick up at 11:00 though, which was when he would be finished playing his set and would head downstairs to The Hydeout to begin playing poker.

"And visiting here also allows me to hear my favorite tickler of the ivories make his own brand of… _music_ ," Kristoph finished, his disingenuous smile growing even more acrid.

"You've come around before?" Phoenix couldn't mask his surprise this time. "And you say you've _heard_ me play?"

" _Many, many_ times, _Herr_ Wright." Kristoph swirled the contents of red wine in his glass before taking a sip. "You have simply been too engrossed in your performing all the times I have been here though, nor would you have possibly noticed my face in the normal crowd."

A ghost of a smile flickered across his effeminately chiseled features.

"It is usually much more packed though. I guess people are still too broke from Christmas to be spending their meager remaining funds at the bar, hmmm?"

His mind was reeling. Kristoph had been able to come and see him play… _spy_ on him, essentially, all these months, and he'd never noticed?

How was that even possible? The pianist stared at him, too stunned at this unexpected bit of information to reply.

A dull roaring sensation began flooding Phoenix's ears, along with the lyrics to the catchy retro tune. A song that suddenly seemed all too applicably _eerie._

* * *

_I always feel like somebody's watching me_  
And I have no privacy  
I always feel like somebody's watching me  
Who's playing tricks on me?  
(Who's watching?)

* * *

The defense attorney didn't seem to notice that his companion hadn't replied to his rhetorical statement and took another sip of wine.

"Marvelous," Kristoph said with an appreciative nod, placing the glass back down on the bar.

Phoenix nodded tersely in reply.

_Gimme a break! We both know that stuff is crap! Why the pretense? Even as a none-wine connoisseur, I knew the stuff is complete and utter piss-water swill!_

"We have not seen each other in many months, _Herr_ Wright," Kristoph chattered idly. "How are you faring? And how is young Trucy?"

The mention of his little girl name set off alarm bells in the card shark's mind, as the last time he had seen Kristoph, it'd been at his Bar Association hearing, where the German had been the sole dissenter to vote against having his badge stripped. Since then, he'd vetoed the initial offer to go for a drink immediately afterward, and repeatedly demurred each subsequent invite ever since.

Ergo, Phoenix had no idea _how_ Kristoph had gotten wind that he had a daughter – he'd essentially disappeared into the underground since losing his badge, out of the public eye, and few others knew of his whereabouts or doings ever since. All that he knew was that _he_ most certainly hadn't informed the lawyer any such information! Sure, he'd brought Trucy to work with him often for poker tournaments, but The Hydeout was a tiny cellar room that could seat no more than five people, maximum, so he would have most definitely noticed if the sinister presence had ever appeared _there_ to see him and Trucy in action – which he could have _sworn_ he _never_ had!

A growing sense of apprehension began to fill him, even as he tried to convince himself he was overreacting. Despite the fact _he_ hadn't laid eyes on Kristoph in nearly a year now and had never bothered to reply to any of his social calls or emails, the other man somehow knew where he worked! Moreover, the attorney had been privy to his lousy piano playing skills since he'd admitted to having seen him play, _and_ knew Phoenix was now a father – all without his knowledge.

_No one knows your success or failure best than your enemy who pretends to be your greatest friend._

The spiky-haired man clenched his fists in his pockets and barely quelled the compelling urge to emit a Papa Bear roar that under no circumstances was Trucy Hecate Wright any of Kristoph's damned business! He picked up his grape juice bottle instead, concentrating on the feel of the cool sweetened liquid sliding down the back of his throat, imagining that it was cooling off his anger. Within his hoodie side pouch, his fingers curled around the cool stone of Maya's magatama.

Immediately, five sets of bolts and chains immediately appeared, obscuring Kristoph from his vision, just as he had suspected they would – though _nothing_ could have prepared him for the startling color of the secret holders that'd manifested themselves within his mind's eye!

_Hell's Teeth! **Black** , not **red** psyche locks?! What the devil is this about?!_

"Trucy is just fine," Phoenix returned pointedly, hoping that the brevity of his answer would convey to Kristoph that any mention of his young child was off-limits. "As am I."

However, the periwinkle-suited blond seemed unaffected to any sort of warning.

"I am so glad to hear this," he responded, clasping his bony hands together in a pleased manner.

"I guess word gets around," Phoenix pointedly remarked, raising an eyebrow with a look on his face that clearly said: _how the hell do you know about my daughter?!_

Kristoph leered and raised his glass to his lips again. He seemed to be reveling in the hobo's obvious discomfort.

"A group of us at work went out to the Wonder Bar on Friday evening and saw the little darling doing a magic act. Quite a talented little tot, really. When I went to compliment her performance afterward, she mentioned that she was part of The Wright Talent Agency with her father and said I could have a business card if I so wished. I kind of put the pieces together from there. I do recall she was the daughter of your client that vanished, Zak Gramarye, was she not?"

_You know very well that she was!_

The details pertaining to his last courtroom case was public knowledge. Anything after that, however, regarding Trucy or Phoenix's whereabouts, or her subsequent adoption, was most certainly _not_.

"At least the poor little urchin found the proverbial silver lining in that dark cloud that senselessly hath befallen her." Kristoph shook his head under the guise of reproach and commiseration. "How fortunate that you were there to take her under your wing since her father was so selfishly left her in the lurch."

Phoenix wasn't buying any of this compassionate act. He just nodded curtly.

" _I'm_ the lucky one. She's a great kid." He drained the last of his juice and feigned a convivial tone. "I was only taking a 15, so I've got to get back to tickling those ivories. It was so nice to see you again Mr. … er, _Kristoph_ ," he corrected hastily, seeing the other man's slight frown at the formal title. "I ah, hope to see you again."

"Don't worry, you _will_." Kristoph flashed him a half-smile. "You've got to take me up on my offer for a drink _sometime_ , and I shall refuse to take no for an answer. I shall be here daily until you say yes."

It was like having a persistent suitor from hell, one who just would _not_ accept _no_ for an answer! It would have been almost comical if Phoenix wasn't positive that this wasn't a case of unrequited ardor on Kristoph's behalf. He had a niggling suspicion that if he kept rebuking the other party's persistent 'advances,' unlike in the past, the results this time around would be worse than a mere drink or slap to the face.

Much, _much_ , worse.

"That won't be necessary, we'll set something up after the weekend," Phoenix promised, slowly beginning to back away from the bar, all the while beaming so broadly his cheeks were beginning to hurt. "Please excuse me, but I really do need to get back to work. I'll be seeing you around, Kristoph."

"I'm going to hold you that, _Herr_ Wright." A sly smirk flickered across the blond man's face. "Because you can run, but you can't hide! I've got my eye on you."

And it was with those final chilling words echoing in his mind that Phoenix somehow managed to get through his shift, his heart erratically thumping as he failed to shake the nagging feeling of watchful eyes searing into his back the rest of the night, even long after he saw Kristoph Gavin leave the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael Jackson - Somebody's Watching Me


	21. Total Eclipse of The Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Turn around)  
> Every now and then I get a little bit lonely  
> And you're never coming 'round  
> (Turn around)  
> Every now and then I get a little bit tired  
> Of listening to the sound of my tears  
> (Turn around)  
> Every now and then I get a little bit nervous  
> That the best of all the years have gone by  
> (Turn around)  
> Every now and then I get a little bit terrified  
> And then I see the look in your eyes  
> (Turn around, bright eyes)  
> Every now and then I fall apart  
> (Turn around, bright eyes)  
> Every now and then I fall apart
> 
> And I need you now tonight  
> And I need you more than ever  
> And if you only hold me tight  
> We'll be holding on forever  
> And we'll only be making it right  
> 'Cause we'll never be wrong  
> Together we can take it to the end of the line  
> Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time  
> (All of the time)  
> I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark  
> We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks  
> I really need you tonight  
> Forever's gonna start tonight  
> Forever's gonna start tonight
> 
> Once upon a time, I was falling in love  
> But now I'm only falling apart  
> There's nothing I can do  
> A total eclipse of the heart  
> Once upon a time, there was light in my life  
> But now there's only love in the dark  
> Nothing I can say  
> A total eclipse of the heart
> 
> Every now and then I fall apart  
> (Turn around, bright eyes)  
> Every now and then I fall apart
> 
> And I need you now tonight  
> (And I need you now)  
> And I need you more than ever  
> And if you only hold me tight  
> (If you only)  
> We'll be holding on forever  
> And we'll only be making it right  
> (And we'll never)  
> 'Cause we'll never be wrong  
> Together we can take it to the end of the line  
> Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time  
> (All of the time)  
> I don't know what to do, I'm always in the dark  
> We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks  
> I really need you tonight
> 
> Forever's gonna start tonight  
> Forever's gonna start tonight

**_Maya Fey_** _  
_ _Kurain Village Train Station_  
Jan 25, 2020, 7:45 AM

_Every now and then I get a little bit lonely. And you're never coming round._

Where was he? Had Nick lied to her about coming? Was he going to let her down despite his promise to the contrary?

Maya squeezed her eyelids shut against the stinging sensation behind them.

_Every now and then I get a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry._

Nick was late. And she had no idea why.

Maya anxiously paced the train station platform like a caged panther, checking her phone for the millionth time to see if her nearly-an-hour-tardy _nitwit_ of a boyfriend had sent her a text or attempted to call her to let her know his whereabouts.

There was nothing. No messages, no missed calls. Absolutely nothing. And her calls to his cell went straight to voicemail. The greeting on it now said, in Trucy's adorable chirpy twitter: "You've reached Phoenix Wright, Vice-President of the Wright Talent Agency! He's the pianist you've been searching for! Please leave a message and he will call you back quicker than you can say _Abracadabra_!"

Maya was beginning to panic. Time was wasting and she only had a precious few hours remaining. Her Master's inauguration began at 10:00 AM _sharp_ , and she _still_ had to make her provisions, spiritual, mental and physical.

On top of that, she also needed to change into her official ceremonial outfit, and would undoubtedly require a lot of assistance getting into the unfamiliar cultural attire. While the Master's robes were gorgeous and regal, they also were unlike anything she'd ever worn before – intricately detailed and undoubtedly _heavy as hell_ as they consisted of several contrasting layers and were made of pure silk and brocade. Pearly was expecting her back at Fey Manor as her head 'lady in waiting' and indubitably would be alongside Mystic Mildred. The stern, dour Village Elder would oversee both the Council and supervision of the adorning ritual and would also be awaiting Maya's return – with guaranteed less patience than her doting cousin.

Pearly had wanted to join Maya at the station to greet Nick, but Maya had instead instructed her to stay put, distract the Elders and keep them at bay, should anyone be questioning the Master's whereabouts and decide to come looking for her.

After running through a myriad of persuasive arguments and excuses to the Elders about justifying her intentions of letting her boyfriend attend the private ceremony, Maya ultimately had decided the hell with decorum, and to just impromptu _spring_ _Nick on them_ and tell them they could _bite it sideways_ if they objected! She was an _adult_ now – the _village Master_ for heaven's sake! – and they absolutely could _not_ tell her what to do! It wasn't the most ideal way to handle things, but she was fed up and out of time, and it was certainly no worse than her initial planned actions to get the ball rolling.

To be frank, Maya's bright idea for ensuring she could fulfill her desirous intentions was _perhaps_ not the most _adult_ route a woman of her stature and office could do in this potentially sticky situation. But what other choice had she had?

In order to prevent suspicion or being accosted before she could escape to the station, Maya had barely slept a wink the night before and risen at dawn, fluffing her pillows into the shape of her slumbering body and pulling the covers so it seemed like her sleeping form was still in bed, in the event that anyone prematurely poke their head in on her. She'd then snuck out of her house and made like a bat out of hell towards the train station, wearing a dark hooded cape over her regular purple Master kimono so that she would hopefully remain unrecognizable in the sun cast shadows of early morning. If asked of Maya's whereabouts, Pearly had been instructed to claim that the Master was off meditating in preparation for her ritual somewhere remote, as custom dictated, was not to be disturbed and would return in plenty of time for ceremony preparation.

Which brought Maya to the present, waiting in vain for the past two some-odd hours at the station, fretfully looking into the horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of the blasted train that was now _an hour late_ and would never appear to come! She'd heard of train delays before, but this was _ridiculous_! Even more so was the fact that the person who was _supposed_ _to be on it_ hadn't even possessed the _courtesy_ to warn her of the delay, and couldn't be reached!

It gave her a sickening sense of déjà vu. It was as if they were back to that God-awful period immediately after Phoenix's disbarment, all over again.

_Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by._

Finally, at 8:02, she saw the large bullet-shaped steel vehicle in the distance coming towards her. It pulled into the station with a grinding halt, and she watched as the passengers began to disembark – there weren't too many this early in the morning, nor was the remote Kurain that popular of a stop.

Still no sign of Phoenix.

Maya bit back an impotent sob of frustration.

_Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears._

She turned away from the train, an agonized pain building inside her as she wiped the stray tear running down her face with the sleeve of her kimono.

He wasn't coming. Despite knowing how much this had meant to her, and how long he'd known her and supposedly loved her for, and knowing that he'd held her heart in his hands this past year, Phoenix wasn't going to show up. Perhaps even though he'd said otherwise the last time they'd parted, when he'd bid her adieu last time, he'd really meant it to be a final farewell.

_Sometimes it's easier to pretend that goodbye isn't really goodbye. Perhaps he didn't mean to lie to me. Perhaps he was also lying to himself._

Another tear fell.

_Every now and then I fall apart._

"Turn around."

Maya spun about in the direction of that wonderful, familiar sound, and found herself face-to-face with Phoenix, standing several feet away from her on the platform, hands in his pockets, smiling shyly at her.

She tilted her head slightly as if expecting him to say some further addendum to the spoken words. When none came, she completed the thought in her mind, _bright eyes_! Triggered from naught but sheer relief, she started to laugh at her foolishness, but it got caught in her throat at the sight of her Nick's beatific smile in the sunlight.

_Every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes._

Her heart no longer filled with pain or uncertainty, she lifted her shining gaze to look at his sculptured, clean-shaven face, with the golden hues of early morning rays upon it, and thought that even with the silly hat Trucy had given him, he was still so handsome.

_He is beauty, inside and out. He is the silver lining in a world of darkness. He is my light._

Moreover, despite what the world might think, he was still a pursuer of the truth in all things, a trustworthy, reliable man who kept his word.

The man she loved.

_You don't love someone for their looks or their clothes or a fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear. There are some songs that sound the way that falling in love feels. And with Nick, every single time I see him, I fall in love. Over, and over again._

She still felt wonderful, but no longer in a giggly way. She wanted his arms around her again. She wanted to know what his lips felt like again after all this time. She just plain wanted. _Him_.

Phoenix's smile, too, faded and then, with a couple of quick strides, he closed the open space between them and then he was holding her, pulling her to him. She looked up into his beautiful sapphire eyes, feeling giddy with joy.

Maya didn't know how she could have doubted him. But nothing else mattered now. She was where she belonged, with Nick's warm, firm arms around her shoulders and her hands around his back, feeling his muscles shifting under his clean-smelling hooded sweatshirt. Her lips parted as she leaned towards him.

Toward this kiss.

This soft, sweet, so-worth-the-wait kiss.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Kurain Village Train Station_  
Jan 25, 2020

Phoenix had seen the dejected form walking away as he'd exited from the back end of the train, and at long last, the sight of the beloved form caused his shout of her name to die in his throat, ceasing his ability to prevent her from leaving.

Desperately, he all but leaped off the accursed train and sprinted towards her, hastily catching his breath before urging her to (Turn around), and feeling a lump form in his throat when he saw the tears in her eyes, the apprehensive frown marring those beautiful features.

_She thought I wasn't going to come._

He wanted to erase the tension from her face. Kiss away the worry. But what he wanted and what she needed were two very different things. "Maya, the damn train got delayed and I forgot to charge my cell last night so my battery is completely dead. I'm so sorry I worried you."

Seconds passed and she didn't say a word. Her eyes were so wide, so open, so trusting. Had anyone aside from his daughter ever looked at him that way before? He didn't think so.

Swaying softly in her arms, she leaned her head against his chest and circled an arm around his neck. Her cheek was so warm, so soft where it met the bare flesh of his chin as he leaned down. Her eyelashes fluttered as she closed her eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Thank you, Nick," she whispered. "Thank you for being here for me when I needed you most."

He breathed in her scent and lifted his hand to cradle her head against him, to keep her from ever leaving him. He couldn't force her to stay though, no matter how much he wanted this moment to last. So he trailed along the curve of her skull, following the path of her hair, teasing the silky strands between his fingertips before settling his hand on the middle of her back.

She snuggled closer, rubbing her cheek against his chest. Her quiet exhale heated him straight through.

It was the first perfect moment of his life in ages.

* * *

 _ **Maya Fey**_  
 _Kurain Village Train Station_  
Jan 25, 2020

Standing there, feeling his hard, muscled body so closely pressed against hers after so long, Maya felt an insatiable hunger unlike any she'd ever felt before. It wasn't just an innate response to wanting to wrap herself around him like a tire whenever she set eyes on him. This was a different kind of hunger, one where she didn't let herself think. Her whole body ached; _she_ ached – as if there were a terrible hollow emptiness inside her that could only now begin to be filled. She was more conscious of Phoenix than she had ever been of anything or anyone else in her life. Of the faint shine of blue beneath his half-closed lids, of the shadow of light stubble across his jaw where he hadn't shaved, of the faint scars that dotted the skin of his throat—and more than anything else, of his mouth, the crescent shape of it, the slight dent in the center of his bottom lip.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. He took a split second to respond, but then he made a sound almost like a growl from low in his throat. He leaned toward her and brushed his lips across hers and she reached for him as if she would otherwise drown.

For a moment their mouths pressed hotly together, Phoenix's free hand tangling in her hair. Maya gasped when his arms tightened around her, her knees nearly snagging beneath her as he pulled her against him. She put her hand lightly around his neck; his skin was burning hot to the touch. Slipping her free hand under his hoodie and the thin t-shirt underneath, she could feel the muscles of his shoulders, hard and smooth. His arms wrapped around her even more firmly, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe. Not that she cared. All she cared about was Phoenix, his mouth on hers, and his body pressed against her own. They had only kissed a few times in the past, but nothing like _this_. She felt electrified from the top of her head to her toes, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that her late older sister had said that love had a power all its own.

Mia had been right: this was magic.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_ _  
_ _Kurain Village_  
Jan 25, 2020, 8:20 AM

"So, do you know exactly what happened that made the train so late in arriving?" Maya asked her lover after they'd finally parted from their embrace and at last began to walk, hand in hand, onto the path which led them back to the village.

"There was a body tied down to the train tracks," he explained. "The conductor slammed on the breaks and had to call the police, who proceeded to then launch a _full-blown murder investigation_ , right there and then!"

"God's elbow, Nick!" She gasped. "That's awful!"

He grimaced. "Not really. It was a _dummy_ , not a real person! Something that _I_ could _immediately_ ascertain

by looking at it out the window, but took the cops _half an hour_ to figure out, after confirming with numerous sources and about taking about a million photographs!"

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" Maya started cracking up then, her shoulders shaking with mirth as he joined in the laughter. "Not even _Gumshoe_ could have been so idiotic not be able to tell a real corpse from a dummy?!"

"The real dummy was that detective in charge," Phoenix chuckled. "Score another one for the LAPD, right? That's our tax dollars at work for you!"

"Speaking of detective work, have you had any luck getting any idea about who may have set you up, Nick?"

"Ideas, yes. Proof, no, and I haven't had much time to work on it, what with working and fatherhood and all." Phoenix let out a long sigh. "I'd really rather not get into this right now. This day is supposed to be all about _you_. Plus, it's kind of depressing."

"Nick, you've got to turnaround your way of thinking! Consider this instead as your greatest challenge yet. Envision the day you make your triumphant return to the courtroom! You'll have had the last laugh when you finally solve the mystery about Trucy's grandfather's death and the son of a bitch who did this to you. Pearly and me, we're rooting for you! And I know you'll make us proud. Sis will be so proud, too!"

"Chief?" That got his attention. Frowning, Phoenix adjusted his beanie and shook his head. "She never would have made such a stupid error – she was always so painstaking meticulous. She was always on me to be better prepared, to be more like her. I didn't listen. I got careless. I had a lot on my mind and I didn't pay enough attention. There's no one to blame but me. I should have known better."

"Ace Attorneys still make mistakes, Nick."

Maya spoke softly, her heart aching at the pain in his voice as he berated himself. Phoenix's work had been his life. There had never been another lawyer who'd been more devoted to helping his clients. She knew that better than anyone. She'd been one of his first … on multiple occasions, including that one time in Europe … But that was another story.

"I feel like I've been making a lot of mistakes lately. I can't afford to make any more of them. I do have a hunch about someone that's making me feel suspicious about his ulterior motives, but once again, we're back to that burden of proof thing. The suspect in question's name is Kristoph Gavin."

"Gavin …why does that sound so familiar?"

"Klavier's older brother. He was the defense attorney that Zak had retained prior to deciding to hand the reins over to me at the eleventh hour. After I got disbarred, I remember he said something like 'if not for you, I'd be the one standing in your shoes right now.' It sounds harmlessly trite enough, but there was nothing consoling in his smile. The man had no emotion, no soul like he was just woodenly reciting the lines from a script."

"Maybe he's just not good at expressing emotions? That's how Edgeworth was in the beginning before you broke down his barriers and made him realize he had a heart, remember?"

"Edgeworth _always_ had a heart!" Phoenix proclaimed loyally. "It was just _hidden_ because his life had been made into a living hell at the hands of that diabolical Manfred Von Karma. There's no comparison of the two of them, Maya! There's a tad frosty … then there's flat out prickly like a cactus...a la Manfred…and then there's... Gavin. The man has eyes that would rival _Jaws._ The only proof I have is my magatama. It shows _black_ psyche locks and chains around him even though he's not even being asked any questions!"

"OK, that _is_ weird," Maya murmured, feeling a flicker of uneasiness within her. " _Black?_ I've never heard of that before. We definitely need to look into that later. Maybe you should trust your gut instincts then, Nick. He may be dangerous. You've got to stay away from him!"

They reached the village entrance and paused for a moment. Phoenix took Maya by the shoulders and looked at her steadily. She knew she wasn't going to like what he was about to say even before he spoke.

"Stay away from him? I can't do that, Maya. If he is as dangerous as we think he is, I'm better off being his false friend than his openly hostile adversary."

"Nick, you can't know what a man like that is capable of!" Maya protested, alarmed for her boyfriend's safety. "You don't just willingly play with fire and not expect to get burned!"

"You know what they say, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, right?" Phoenix smiled reassuringly at her and gave her a wink. "Besides, I may be completely wrong about the man and may just be turning into an eccentric, overly paranoid old man. I won't know unless I at least take Gavin up on his repeated offers to go for a drink."

"But Nick –"

Phoenix put a finger to her lips then, then leaned down and gently replaced it with his lips, ever so softly brushing them with his own before drawing back. "Don't you worry about me, my love. I've learned how to swim with sharks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart


	22. Vipers, Cobras, And Fire-Breathing Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Placid skies  
> Through crystal gazing eyes  
> Slaves to our desire  
> In a ring of smoke and fire  
> The dungeons call  
> Two faces on the wall  
> Candles light the way  
> For a moonlight serenade
> 
> Through the nights and days  
> We will find a way  
> A way to carry on what we believe
> 
> An empty door  
> Ashes on the floor  
> Hypnotic array of lights  
> Dragons calling throughout the night  
> Omen in black  
> Chained down to the rack  
> The end never in sight  
> Soaring through an endless plight
> 
> Through the nights and days  
> We will find a way (find a way)
> 
> Silence fills the shrine  
> Giving us the sign  
> Forever lost  
> Forever in the dragon's den  
> Born with second sight  
> Essence burning bright  
> Forever lost  
> Forever in the dragon's den
> 
> Silence fills the shrine  
> Giving us the sign  
> Forever lost  
> Forever in the dragon's den  
> Born with second sight  
> Essence burning bright  
> Forever lost, forever in the dragon's den

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**  
_ _Kurain Village_  
Jan 25, 2020, 8:25 AM

"Are you ready to face the craggy faces of disapproval, Nick?" Maya asked nervously as they reached the village entrance, her palms suddenly turning clammy. "All set for being the closely scrutinized like you're under a microscope, for being sole male specimen within a 200-mile radar by a few hundred probing female eyes of all ages for the next few hours?"

Phoenix smiled reassuringly at her, effectively easing her mounting anxieties.

"I can handle anything, just as long as I'm with you, my love."

He gave her hand a gentle tug and pulled her towards him, leaning in a little closer, their foreheads touching. After so long apart, the mere fragrance of her was intoxicating. Dear God, he couldn't fight the carnal urges coursing through him. Her very scent was flooding his senses now, her lips dewy and inviting and practically beckoning his.

Phoenix's kiss stole the words Maya didn't need to say. In that silence, all their secrets were laid bare, all their passions and the spark of love that existed between them. Within that moment, in his love, she was strong. One kiss and she had the courage to do what had to be done.

His lips had barely left hers when a high-pitched, outraged cry filled the air suddenly, nearly splitting both their ear-drums.

"So! _This_ is who you've been off meandering with while you've been making that poor cousin of yours lie about your whereabouts! And all the while making the _rest_ of us all _frantic_ with worry!" The shrill voice pierced through the air, as sharp as a katana blade.

The ex-lawyer's head shot up. Standing before them at the front of the gates of Fey Manor, with crossed arms and a pugnacious expression, was the dwarf _twin_ of The Iron Lady! Although she stood approximately five feet tall, a good foot shorter than the perma-scowl social worker, this woman, clad in a black and grey kimono with a dragon emblem emblazed on it, was eerily similar in appearance, if not in stature. Thin, pursed lips. Overly-tweezed, harshly knitted brows set in a wrinkled prune face. Salt and pepper hair, scraped back into a topknot so tight, it gave an almost a cat-like slant to her dark, beady eyes, which raked the couple with obvious disapproval.

 _Hell's biscuits! Sharks I can handle, but venomous vipers are another story!_ Phoenix blenched slightly at the poisonous look the harridan had hitherto reserved for Maya but had now directed squarely at _him!_ _This beldame is scarier than any bloodthirsty ocean predator – I'd say she's more like that fire-breathing dragon emblazoned on her kimono! Hell, while we're comparing her to scary reptiles, I'm also taking note that, at the very least, she's got the whole King Cobra stare down to an art! She'd certainly win a stare-down against any man or slithering reptile, **no problem**! Yikes! If looks could kill…_

Surprisingly, his girlfriend appeared to be completely unfazed by the combative Reptilian Lady's presence. Rather than break away from Phoenix at the sight of the village Elder, she instead stepped even closer to him in an act of pure defiance, nestling under his arm so that it was slung around her shoulder.

"Good day to you, Mystic Mildred," Maya replied calmly, ignoring the outburst. "I apologize for misleading you all about my whereabouts earlier - it was I who instructed Pearly to do so. She is not to be blamed in this matter whatsoever. While I apologize if I worried anyone with my absence, as you can see, the fretfulness was completely unwarranted. I am alive and well and most certainly back within adequate time to be prepared for the ceremony."

"Oh yes, _completely unwarranted_ ," Mildred agreed, sarcasm positively dripping from her barbed tongue. "Perhaps it is _us_ who owe _you_ an apology Mystic, or shall I say, _Master_ Maya. How _silly_ of us to needlessly concern ourselves over the whereabouts of the future leader of our village, who's only been _dragging her heels_ about this inauguration _for the past year_ , when she goes _missing_ and is _nowhere to be found_ on _said ceremonial day_!"

 _Nope, forget viper or cobra_ , Phoenix decided. _Dragon. Definitely a dragon. And a fire-breathing one, at that!_

He half-expected that he and Maya to be burnt to a crisp from the mouth flames that were surely about to be emitted at any moment!

The spirit medium's sense of bravado slid down a degree at the scathing words, a fact which did not go unnoticed by Mildred, who upped her attack as the Master shrank back from the look of pure disdain directed at her, so reminiscent to the ones Morgan used to give when she was growing up as a young child.

"You sent us on a wild goose chase, I'll have you know! All of us, frenziedly searching the perimeters of this entire village, and even all the way up to _Hazakura Temple_ , looking for this so-called remote mediation area where you were _supposedly_ seeking your sacred solace, as Pearl had claimed." Mildred's lip curled in disgust. "Even _that_ we could have forgiven, had it been true! To go off in search of spiritual reprieve on such a sanctimonious day is expected, even _condoned_ behavior of the esteemed Master. But to have your location be unknown because you were out thoughtlessly _gallivanting_ like some… cheap _harlot_ with some strange man, who you have the _audacity_ to bring back to an all-female village on this most _sanctified_ day…"

" _Objection_!" Phoenix roared, pointing his famous courtroom finger then, refusing to endure the vile Dragon Lady's verbal onslaught against the woman he loved for another moment. "Number one, Maya was hardly out _gallivanting_ , as you so crudely put it, lady! She was picking _me_ up from the station! Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond either of our control, my train got delayed, hence her slight tardiness. And number two –"

"Silence! I don't seem to recall asking to hear _you_ speak, young man!" Mildred retorted. "First of all, insolent one, you need to show some reverence! This young lady is henceforth to be properly addressed as Mystic, and very soon to be _Master,_ Maya, despite this little stunt she pulled. And second, Mister Whoever You Are, you are to be excused from our village _posthaste_. This ceremony is a private, closed-off affair, I'll have you know, and is not open to outsiders of the general public!"

"But he's _not_ an outsider!" Maya cried. "Nor is he a stranger! He's practically family! Mystic Mildred, don't you remember the man who saved me from those murder charges? This is Mia's old protégé, Phoenix Wright!"

" _This_ is Phoenix Wright?" Mildred's composure slipped a notch for a moment. Her wrinkly hands fluttered to her bird-like throat, around which hung an opal colored magatama. "I _never_ would have recognized that famous lawyer being the _same_ man standing before me now, who looks like little more than a street bum!"

"I much prefer the term _hobo chic_ , thankyouverymuch!" Phoenix glared at the old woman.

"I should have you _and_ your trespassing, smart mouth ejected from here immediately!"

"Mystic Mildred, _please_ stop this!" Maya implored, sliding out from under her boyfriend's arm and wringing her hands as she looked beseechingly at the Dragon Lady. "I never wanted to cause any uproarious commotion. He's not trespassing…I _asked_ Nick to be here. He and Pearly are to represent my pillars of strength at the ceremony. I have no other family left, save for them, and I wanted, no, I _needed_ him to be here at my side for this. There's no need for you to act so contentiously towards him. He's done nothing wrong. All he's ever done is help people, as well as help _me_."

The miserable old bag, while immune to assertive back-talk, didn't seem to be completely unmoved by complete, outright begging.

"Fine, your _friend_ may stay for the ceremony," Mildred allowed grudgingly, taking Maya's arm and yanking her towards Fey Manor.

She tossed a disgusted look over her shoulder at the bindlestiff, signaling him to follow them.

"However, seeing as how you are nowhere near dressed for such an auspicious occasion, Mr. Wright, I _cannot_ let you attend the festivities in that – unsuitable _attire_ ," she spat rancorously. "You are to wait outside the house until I send Pearl out to you. We shall need to search the house to see if we still have any of the elder's late husband's more appropriate clothing stashed away somewhere that you may borrow for the day."

"That's fine," he shrugged, his lips twitching with barely suppressed derision that he'd been told to remain outside like a flea-ridden puppy, rather than be invited inside the house like a normal visitor would have. Luckily, it was an unpredictably tepid morning, despite the mountain winter air, and he was plenty warm in his jogging suit. Working in the arctic temperature of the Borscht Bowl had given him quite the impressive cold tolerance!

He waited patiently on the grounds of Fey Manor, leaning down to admire the shrubs and vegetation outside the main doors. If need be, he decided he could kill time and explore the magnificent surrounding area of Maya's home, having only been there a couple of times before in the past, albeit under much more dire circumstances. He was just about to check out the garden in the back when the front door swung open and little Pearl came rushing out. Her arms were laden with folded dark material, which she dropped in her haste to come to greet him, momentarily forgetting, in her zeal, to shut the door behind her.

"Mr. Nick!" She squealed joyfully, running up to Phoenix with outstretched arms, a smile of uninhibited joy on her cherubic face. "You're finally here! I've missed you so much! I knew you would come!"

Laughing at her effusiveness, he lifted the small girl in his arms and swung her around, equally as delighted to see her. He'd nearly forgotten how much he'd loved her as his own daughter.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Pearls," he answered with a smile, setting her back down, then bending over to pick up the garments she'd dropped in her excitement. "I've missed you too. Just look at you, you're getting so big! And you look so pretty in your dressy robes!"

Pearl smiled bashfully at him and shyly pressed her hands against her pink cheeks at the compliment. The spirit medium was dressed in a more formal version of her usual lavender acolyte robes for the occasion. The material was silk instead of cotton, with pretty white embroidery design. A purple peony was tucked into the double loops of her light brown hair.

"Let me show you where you can get changed, Mr. Nick." Pearl's tiny hand took his. She was just about to lead him off when unexpectedly, a chorus of loud, incensed voices was heard from inside the house through the open door.

"You are _never_ to see him again after today, is that understood?" Mildred's furious assertion could be heard as clear as a bell. "It's a dishonor that you brought such a man to be part of this solemn event, Mystic Maya. You should be _ashamed_ of yourself!"

"Save your breath!" Maya snapped. "I don't care a fig about your prejudiced, narrow-minded opinions and I especially _don't care_ what you think of him!"

"You _will_ if you know what's good for you!" Mildred shrieked. "As of today, you are _officially_ the Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique, and a woman of great prestige and influence. You are _not_ to sully your name and reputation, and _ours_ as default, by associating with the underbelly of society like _him_!"

"I'll see him whenever I damn well please! How _dare_ you try to command what I do!" Maya shouted back at a near ear-splitting decibel. Phoenix hadn't heard his girlfriend sound so incensed since the time they'd threatened to take the _Steel Samurai_ off the air. "Nick is not only an important part of my life, but he has been a long-time friend of the Fey family and will always continue to be! I absolutely _refuse_ to cast him aside like common trash! Especially not after everything he's done for us!"

"This is a direct _order_ , not something that renders _debate_! Mr. Wright is _not_ a person whom we would like affiliated with the village," Mildred's voice was cold as her words. "It is bad enough that you continued to call him a _friend_ after that scandalous disbarring incident a year ago, but now _this_? To be out publicly embracing him in _plain sight_ , and openly flaunting him to us as your _lover_?"

She sputtered the last word as if it were blasphemy.

"It is an embarrassing disgrace to Kurain, as well as a disgrace to _you_ as Master of this village!"

Pearl's gray eyes widened in horror as she realized the grievous oversight that she'd made by forgetting to close the door behind her. She quickly ran over and pulled it shut to prevent them from being forced to listen to any more explosive dialogue, but it was too late.

They'd both already heard enough.

 _It's so strange,_ Phoenix thought numbly. _How some people ignore the logic just because they believe what they like to believe and ignore the truth, inasmuch as it's often funny how the people who know the least about you, always have the most to say._

The precocious child bit her thumb nervously as she looked up and caught the stunned, anguished expression on Phoenix's face, pausing only for a moment before springing into action and taking his hand again.

"Forget about her, Mr. Nick," Pearl said kindly, gently tugging the dumbstruck man away from the main entrance, like a tiny little tugboat pulling an ocean liner, as she led him towards the Winding Way. "Mystic Mildred's just a cranky, mean old witch! It's _Mystic Maya_ who's in charge, and you're her Special Someone and _she_ wanted you here. Nothing else matters!"

Phoenix knew the little girl was trying hard to make him feel better, but he didn't have the heart to tell her it was all for naught. As he walked into the guest room and began to put on the outfit Pearl had brought out for him, he was unable to squelch the huge, tight knot that had formed in his chest upon hearing the ugly words, which could never be abated.

Especially since they were true.

_Keeping what you have is hard, like searching for what you've lost._

Mildred was vile, but she was right. He _was_ a disgrace. He _was_ beneath her. Maya _shouldn't_ be with the likes of him, not anymore. Not when she was now a woman of such influence and power, and whose reputation would be irreparably damaged if she continued having her name linked to his.

 _I can never come back to Kurain after all this,_ he realized despairingly. _I can't put us through the aftermath of what my presence here will bring! And I was right to determine not to get intimate with her again – and that was **before** all this new shit went down! If we keep seeing each other,_ _I fear I won't be able to control myself. I'll lure her to the city, putting her in danger, both from Kristoph and me ruining the Master thing for her. Or I'll feel compelled to stay in Kurain and screw things up here for her._

He stood there numbly, alone with his torturous thoughts. He had remained silent and unmoving, in the manner of a stoic mannequin, by the time Pearl re-entered the room, after checking first that he was dressed, and began fussing over the correct draping and layering of the kimono.

"You look so handsome, Mr. Nick!" Pearl declared, jumping up and down like an excited little rubber ball. "Look in the mirror!"

Phoenix stifled a sigh and looked at his reflection in the glass. The little girl was being too kind. He thought he looked ridiculous, like the complete Philistine that he was, although he had to admit the clothing itself was quite nice.

The long Yukata was extremely elegant and made of authentic black Japanese silk and had a rich, soft sheen to the fabric, making it luxuriously soft to touch. The silk kimono was fully lined and had the kanji character kotobuki, which Pearl explained meant long life and happiness, embroidered on the front and back. It was made in the traditional style and was to be worn by wrapping left over right and loosely tied off using the obi. On his feet, he wore a pair of somewhat ill-fitting wooden Geta, the traditional Japanese wooden clogs. He was fortunate the previous owner appeared to have not only been of similar height and build as him but the shoes, while a tad too big, were certainly manageable as long as he didn't attempt to run in them.

"Thanks, Pearls," Phoenix attempted to smile for the spirit medium's benefit. "It _is_ a fine-looking outfit."

"Hmmm, something's still not right…" Pearl eyed him critically. "Mr. Nick, come down here for a second?" Confused, Phoenix obliged, leaning down towards her, when she suddenly reached up and yanked the beanie off his head.

"Hey! Give that back!" His hand reflexively flew to the now bared spikes on his head, which felt quite cold now due to the unaccustomed exposure to the air.

"No way, not till after the ritual!" Pearl grinned at him mischievously. "The hat looked silly with your kimono - it didn't go with your outfit. And just so you know, Mystic Maya _hates_ it!"

"B- but I'm going to need to fix my hair now!" He whined petulantly, resisting the urge to pout. "And I have no gel on me!"

" _Nuh-uh_." Pearl shook her head stubbornly and tucked the hat into the pocket of her outer robe. "Your spikes aren't flattened _at all_. Hey, how come you don't get what Mystic Maya calls 'hat head?' Your hair just stays spiky, like magic!"

"But Pearls –!"

"Let's go, Mr. Nick!" Pearl grabbed his hand and steered him out the door. "It's almost time for the ceremony! Come on! We need to take our places and go find seats!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Symphony X- In The Dragon's Den


	23. Nothing Else Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close, no matter how far  
> Couldn't be much more from the heart  
> Forever trusting who we are  
> And nothing else matters
> 
> Never opened myself this way  
> Life is ours, we live it our way  
> All these words, I don't just say  
> And nothing else matters
> 
> Trust I seek and I find in you  
> Everyday for us something new  
> Open mind for a different view  
> And nothing else matters
> 
> Never cared for what they do  
> Never cared for what they know  
> But I know
> 
> So close, no matter how far  
> It couldn't be much more from the heart  
> Forever trusting who we are  
> And nothing else matters
> 
> Never cared for what they do  
> Never cared for what they know  
> But I know
> 
> I never opened myself this way  
> Life is ours, we live it our way  
> All these words, I don't just say  
> And nothing else matters
> 
> Trust I seek and I find in you  
> Everyday for us something new  
> Open mind for a different view  
> And nothing else matters
> 
> Never cared for what they say  
> Never cared for games they play  
> Never cared for what they do  
> Never cared for what they know  
> And I know, yeah, yeah
> 
> So close, no matter how far  
> Couldn't be much more from the heart  
> Forever trusting who we are  
> No, nothing else matters

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _The Channeling Chamber_  
Jan 25, 2020, 10:00 AM

Finding a seat proved to be easier said than done. In fact, 'seat' was a relative term, as there were no actual chairs. Instead, rows of mats were unrolled in the dimly lit room where the inauguration was being held. When Pearl arrived, followed by Phoenix, who was going his best not to trip in his wooden clodhoppers, numerous spirit mediums of all ages were already in traditional Japanese kneeled, feet resting on bottom sitting position. It looked so delicately pretty...but would surely give _his_ unaccustomed legs an awful cramp!

A lot of the younger girls looked at Phoenix and began pointing, giggling and whispering among themselves, as he was the sole man in the room. He blushed and squirmed uncomfortably in his unfamiliar kneeled position, pretending not to notice, while simultaneously restraining Pearl from slapping any of them. She'd begun rolling up her sleeve menacingly as a couple of teenage girls coquettishly batted their eyelashes in his direction.

With so many bodies packed into that small place, it was uncomfortably warm, and he hated to admit it, but he was grateful for the light fabric of his kimono – he'd have sweated to death in his jogging suit. The room was with nothing but candles, both as a source of heat and light. The area with the most lit-up flames was up at the altar, where a tall, slender woman, presumably the officiant, stood in wait. She was dressed in dark robes identical to Mildred's, indicating similar rank or status, and looked to be in her mid-50's, with dark, silver-streaked hair pulled back into a roll behind her head.

All of a sudden, a gong sounded and all heads turned towards the door. The Master entered the room.

Phoenix's jaw dropped at the sight of her.

Maya looked like royalty. All that was missing was the crown.

She swept in grandly, her gait pure grace, her head held high, her posture straight and proud as she strode purposefully towards the front altar.

In place of her normal purple Master's kimono, Maya now wore a long, rich violet cloak, with intricate golden embroidery, draped over a fitted, floor-length, lilac kimono, with slits cut to mid-calf to allow for ease of walking. Around her waist was the thick obi, indigo in color, decorated with a large purple amethyst in the middle. It was placed inside a gold buckle setting, which had the Master symbols carved into it. The gemstone matched the hue of the round purple stone that was set in the golden staff. He recognized it as the one that had belonged to Misty Fey, which Maya now held in her hand. Her glorious black hair was put back into a lace braided bun on the crown of her head, with wispy curled tendrils, now free of the purple baubles, framing her artfully made up, and exquisite face. A purple hibiscus was tucked behind one ear.

She was the picturesque vision of refinement and dignity.

Phoenix's breath was caught in his throat. He couldn't believe Maya still had the ability to have such an effect on him. She hadn't taken his breath away like this since the night she'd worn that strapless, sequined red mini-dress for him. Although unlike the night of her 21st birthday, when she'd looked like a ravishing, sexy goddess, this time her beauty was still evident, but in a different, more subtle way. Less flashy, yet positively regal. Like a beautiful, ethereal _princess_.

He was still in a daze for the duration of the ceremony and essentially lost for the most part of it, although he dutifully chanted along when prompted, where it was required by the group. When it was his turn to come up to the front altar, after Pearl, he humbly bowed his head and mumbled "I will" when the officiant asked if he would accept that he was the Master's second pillar of strength and would help guide her on her path to spiritual righteousness or something of that sort. Then he placed his hand over Maya's as she lit the second pillar candle, next to the one she'd lit with her cousin, before shuffling back to his seat.

There was some more chanting done and Maya lit the largest candle in between him and Pearl's, then the Officiant, at last, gave a pleased smile.

"A soul of hospitality and a heart of humanity is a house of love, peace, freedom, liberty, and justice," the elder declared, beaming. "The initiation has been completed, and the transfer of power is absolute," "Mystic Maya Fey, we are honored by your acquiescence of the title of Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique, under which we all may prosper. May we be inspired and guided by your wisdom, and may you be filled with peace and tranquility as you begin this new chapter of your life."

The audience applauded as Maya turned to them and bowed graciously. As she walked between the rows of attendees to exit, they all bowed in turn. Phoenix felt Pearl tug on his sleeve, indicating they were to follow the new Master.

Once outside, Maya exhaled in relief. "Whew!" She exclaimed, pretending to wipe a bead of sweat from her brow and beaming radiantly at the two pillars of strength who stood before her. "Thank God _that's_ finally over and done with! Hey, Nick, you look pretty hot in that kimono!" She gave him a sassy wink. "What are you rocking underneath that thing, anyway? Are you making like the Scottish men with their kilts and going _au naturel_ or what?"

" _Maya_!" Phoenix blushed furiously and looked pointedly at Pearl before shifting his mortified gaze back to his girlfriend.

"I guess that means no, huh? Too cold?" Maya laughed. "It's kind of windy today too! Too bad…some of these old dinosaurs would probably get a thrill from seeing a man's parts for the first time in _centuries_ , assuming they didn't die from heart failure first!"

That did it. Being sexually harassed by his girlfriend in front of her innocent 10-year-old cousin had the result of turning the former attorney into a tomato-faced, blushing schoolboy. Phoenix tried to glare at Maya for being such a naughty minx, but that would have required his eyes to shift from the ground and meet Pearl's curious face.

_God's blood! Please don't let her ask…_

"Mystic Maya, what do you mean by a 'man's parts'?" Pearl asked, with the complete innocence of a child who had never had formal education or schooling outside of the village, where Sex Ed 101 was most definitely _not_ part of her spiritual studies!

Before the Master could think of something even more inappropriately embarrassing to say – if that were even _possible_! – Phoenix looked up and saw the same village elder who had conducted the ceremony exit the Channeling Chamber, followed by the rest of the congregation, and let out an enormous sigh of relief. Not even Maya would be shameless enough to scandalize a whole _village_ of acolytes, some of whom were Pearl's age or younger, _would_ she?

Fortunately, he never found out.

"Hello, Master Maya," the officiant said as she approached the three of them, in a voice that was civil but not exactly warm. "Will you be joining us in the dining hall now for lunch?"

"Please, Mystic Matilda, I don't want to change my title of address," Maya insisted. " _Mystic Maya_ is perfectly fine. "As for lunch…" she looked over at Pearl and Phoenix, the former who nodded eagerly and the latter who discreetly shook his head – between Maya's saucy ribbing and the scene he'd overheard earlier, he had no appetite whatsoever – "um, Pearly will be joining you right now. Nick and I just want to get out of these robes and slip into something a little more comfortable first, if that's OK?"

"Perfectly fine," Mystic Matilda replied, flashing a polite smile. "It is a celebratory feast in your honor, Mystic Maya. I do believe the head chef has even arranged to make an Angus burger, with ramen noodles, _especially for you_ as you'd requested. Come join us whenever you're ready."

"Did he really? Man, that is _awesomesauce_!" Maya raised a fist in the air. "I was getting so sick of vegetarian cuisine!" She turned to her cousin. "Pearly, you go with Mystic Matilda, and Nick and I will join you as soon as we change our clothes, alright?"

"OK Mystic Maya," Pearl agreed happily, turning away to follow the crowd to the dining area.

"Hey, Pearls?" Phoenix called when she'd walked away a few feet. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

She turned around and looked at him, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. "What is it, Mr. Nick?"

Phoenix fought back a guffaw, in spite of everything. "Nice try, kiddo. My hat, please?"

Pearl blushed and brought her hands up to her cheeks.

"Oops! I'm sorry Mr. Nick! Here you go!" She reached into her pocket and handed him back his beanie, smiling sheepishly at her cousin. "Hey, _I tried!"_ She stage-whispered into Maya's ear before scuttling off.

He looked at his girlfriend, who at least had the decency to look somewhat discomfited. He arched an eyebrow. "Seriously, Maya? Have you been talking to Kay Faraday lately? I can't believe that _you're_ the one responsible for trying to turn Pearl into mini-Yatagarasu, although as a great thief of _hats_ instead of the _truth_!"

They had begun walking back to Fey Manor, but she actually stopped in her tracks and whirled around on him, all traces of embarrassment now vanished from her face.

"I'm _so_ not sorry, Nick! I _hate_ that hat!" Maya puffed out her cheeks and pounded her staff on the ground for emphasis. "I suppose I ought to be grateful she managed to get it off you for at least the ceremony!"

"I _see_. I wouldn't have thought something as trivial as the hat my daughter gave me would cause you such grievance." Despite the serious words, Phoenix's eyes twinkled with amusement as he held the main entrance door open for Maya as they stepped into the empty mansion – everyone else was at the lunch festivities in the dining hall. They plodded down the hall to her room, the clip-clop of his wooden sandals sounding like horse gallops across the floor.

"I'm sorry, I know it has sentimental value but it _does_ make you look like a complete hobo!" She huffed, tossing her staff on the bed and clenching her fists, bringing them up to chest level. "I should just deal with it, right? It's your hat from your kid and a part of _you_ …I should accept that. I'm sorry Nick, I have no idea what's gotten into me today…"

"Well, you _do_ appear to be more animated than usual right now my love," he observed, grinning. "Did they slip something into your green tea pre-ceremony or something?"

Although her boyfriend had been jesting, Maya put a hand to her chin, tapping her cheek with her index finger as she looked skyward in contemplation of the question. "Hmmm, Mystic Marley noticed I was really wound up after my, ah, _talk_ with Mystic Mildred during the dressing ritual, so she _did_ offer to pour me some tea and said she'd put something in it to help relax me for the ceremony…"

"Your _tongue_ , from the looks of it!" Phoenix chortled. "I can't _believe_ some of the stuff you were saying to me in front of Pearls! Thank heavens Mystic Matilda came along before you got roped into an awkward Q and A with your baby cousin on _'man parts'!_ "

"I can't believe I had so little control of the stuff that was coming out of my mouth! Maya groaned, burying her head in her hands in mortification. "I have no idea what got into me!"

"Copious amounts of spiked tea or overly relaxing herbs of some sort, I suspect!" Phoenix couldn't stop sniggering. Maya scowled at him. "You haven't been that loose-lipped since the night of your last birthday when you downed one too many Dead Lawyer drinks!"

Suddenly Maya's hands dropped from her face and gave him an impish grin as if the scenario they were currently in – alone together, in her bedroom – had just dawned on her. She sauntered up to Phoenix and wrapped her arms around his neck, looking at him with a sultry expression. "You know, Nick, I can be as just loose with my _hips_ as I am with my _lips_ …"

The siren look in her eyes was unmistakable and nearly weakened his resolve to stay _upright_ and _clothed_ for the duration of this visit, despite the longing ache triggered in his body by the feeling of her lush, ripe curves pressed against him after so long.

"Maya, _no_. We can't. The elders, Pearls, they're all expecting us back at the dining hall..."

" _After_ we slip into something more comfortable. It took _two_ women to get me _into_ this outfit, who's to say how long it will take me on my _own_ to remove all these hooks and clasps?" Maya shimmied out of her heavy cloak and let it drift to the floor, leaving her now only in her form-hugging kimono, the top part which looked it was straining to remain closed over her heaving chest. "You could always be a gentleman and help speed up the undressing process of course…"

Phoenix's voice died in his throat as he looked at her with hungry eyes, which devoured a path up and down her body his mouth and hands yearned to follow.

"I should have just gone straight back to the guest house to change my clothes instead of coming here with you, Maya. This isn't right. We shouldn't be alone."

Maya paused in the act of unfastening the clasps on the front of her kimono, stopping at the waist so he could clearly see the lacy lavender bra she was wearing underneath, as well as the smooth ivory skin of her toned abdomen, and stared at him blankly. "What's is your problem, Nick?" There was a look of hurt and confusion in her eyes. "Why the sudden guilty priest act? It's not like I have anything you haven't seen before! If you don't want me right now, just say so!"

"Fine, I don't want you right now!" He shouted, sounding about as convincing as a fat woman on a diet eye-banging an all-you-can-eat dessert bar. "Are you happy now?"

There was a tense silence. It was a bald-faced lie and they both know it. It was obvious even without the feel of his arousal at the sight of her partial state of undress. The tension between them was something they could both smell, something they could both taste. Maya shook her head and continued undoing her clasps, before stepping out of her kimono completely. She stood there in nothing but matching lacey lavender bra and panties, head tilted questioningly to the side.

Maya fixed him with a stare that pummeled every other thought or worries in his head and heart until his whole universe was just that look.

"I don't believe you," she murmured, moving closer towards him. "Even if that kimono does a better job of _hiding the evidence_ that _contradicts_ your so-called lack of desire for me than your track pants, I know all I've got do it take a look for _myself_ underneath that thing to establish my _burden of proof_." She stopped until she was only inches away from his face now, and he could feel her breath against his lips with her next words. "Why are you freaking out, Nick?"

"I'm freaking out because every second I'm with you, all I can think about doing is…you…me…that bed…" He cried desperately, not even trying to resist when she wrapped her arms around his neck again. "And it's so _wrong_ because I don't want you thinking that's all I want to do when I see you, especially after being apart for so long. Because you mean so much more to than just that Maya."

"But what if it's all _I_ want to do, Nick?" She looked at him with enormous eyes, filled with love, desire and determination. "What if you've unleashed a Pandora's' Box here and created an insatiable sex addict who just wants to sink her teeth into you every time she looks at you from the very first time you rocked her world? I'm not ashamed or guilty about wanting to be with you. Because I love you. Stop overthinking so much!"

"It's not just that, Maya. I –"

"I will never forget that first night you made love to me Nick," Maya whispered, holding his face in her hands and looking searchingly into his eyes. "I remember how tender and passionate you were, but above all, so patient with me. You took things slow, took the time to make sure that _I_ was ready. Now it's my turn to do the same for you." She fluttered her long lashes against his throat, and the delicate brush of the butterfly kiss was so exquisite against his skin that he closed his eyes, just reveling in her touch. "Is this okay?" She kissed his cheek.

He nodded, his eyes still closed.

"And this?" She kissed his other cheek. He nodded again.

"And this?" Her lips pressed against his chin, his jaw. He closed his eyes tighter and nodded again.

"And–"

Her mouth hadn't yet touched his when he took her by the waist and pulled her to him. He kissed her like his heart might stop if he didn't, and he kept his arms around her as she moved back, toward the other side of the room. She turned when they reached the bed so that he lay down first, then crawled on top of him. His hands were stronger, more sure, as they traveled down her back and pulled her closer. His skin felt like it burned through his clothes as their bodies pushed together, arms and stomachs and shoulders and chests—and mouths. Mouths smashing into each other, nothing delicate about it, mouths that knew that this is what they wanted to do from the very first second they'd set eyes on each other at the train station.

And the next second his hand was behind her head and he'd eased her down on top of him and they kept kissing . . . kissing like crazy. Her whole body was buzzing, and all she wanted was to keep pressing against him, and lacing her legs through his and winding her fingers over those familiar soft spikes. Feeling his lips devour hers for the rest of the night. It felt so good to have his body pushing against hers. Not just _anyone's_ body, but _Nick's_ body. Nick, who laughed for her when he didn't laugh for anyone, who had dropped everything at a moment's notice, to be by her side during one of the most important moments of her life. Nick, who she loved, who she wanted, and who wanted her. She wanted so badly to be wanted, all of her, every piece.

With a superhuman effort he didn't know he had, Phoenix gave a moan of reluctance and broke off the kiss, and gently pushed her off him, even though it took every own of inner strength he had to do so. He rolled over onto his side, taking Maya with him so that she lay beside him on the bed, panting just as heavily as he was. He was sickened by how cruel it would seem to reject her. How would he explain?

Instead of the usual instinctive poker mask thrown up to emotion-charged dilemmas, he could feel tears building in his eyes.

"We can't do this," he rasped.

She smiled understandingly, but it fell away again almost immediately. She looked down.

"Because of the Elders waiting for us?"

He nodded. "You know that the minute we go back into town –"

"Okay," Maya said, looking up at the ceiling. "Then we'll just stay here."

He laughed. "Forever?"

"Sure," she said. "Seems as good a place to live as any."

"Nice big bedroom with a pretty view of the garden."

"Plenty of light."

"An en-suite bathroom."

He nodded. "Everything you'd ever need."

"Except food. We could send Pearly out daily to personally bring us the chef's daily specials as our part of our VIP room service."

They both snickered at their silly fantasizing for a moment, then Phoenix looked at her with an earnest expression.

"Maya, if I make love to you one more time, I won't ever be able to let you go again. It was agonizing enough the last time."

"But Nick –"

He placed a finger against her lips, silencing her. "There's more. I can't hold this inside me any longer. When you asked if part of the reason for my attempted restraint just now because of the Elders waiting for us in the hall, I wasn't being fully honest. It's only part of the reason." He rolled over and sat up as he looked at her with sorrowful eyes. "Maya, your so-called talk with Mildred earlier this morning…when Pearls came out, the door was open. And I heard everything."

Maya gasped and sat up as well, her hands flying to her lips, and her eyes round with dismay at the realization of how devastated Nick must be feeling after hearing the wretched woman pour out all her venom. "Oh God Nick…I'm so sorry…"

"Well let me rephrase that. I may not have heard it _all_ ," he corrected himself, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Pearls shut that door pretty damn fast. But I still heard _enough_."

"You can't allow what that miserable old bat said get to you! None of it is true! And it doesn't matter to me what they think, Nick! All that should matter is what _I_ think, and what _I_ feel. I _don't care_ what they think of you!" Maya reaffirmed. "

"But _I_ care what they think about _you_ ," Phoenix retaliated quietly. "Don't feel you should compromise your career just because I ruined mine." The pained, haunted expression in his eyes broke her heart.

Phoenix knew he was doing the right thing, even though it was gutting him.

_I can't expect her to throw away her life as Master for some borderline criminal addict, ruin her reputation… none of this was her fault! And there's no place for me in Kurain! My presence would only hinder her already difficult task of wielding power and respect there. It would be all about me and totally selfish. I love her too much to do that to her._

Maya swallowed back the sob building within her as she got up off the bed, suddenly feeling very exposed and vulnerable in her nearly naked state, and with shaking hands, she quickly donned her regular Master's kimono, her mind reeling at what horrible, irreparable damage had been done to their relationship from this visit.

His resigned expression distressed her, enough that somehow she couldn't tell him it was too late for that, that even though he'd shut the door before he heard the entire exchange with Mildred, she had made it unfathomably clear that her solicitations and alliance with Phoenix Wright were _the one thing_ she would _never,_ _under any circumstances_ , compromise or negotiate on.

She'd fought so hard for him, for them, tooth and nail, yet one horribly-timed, mud-slinging overheard conversation was all it took for him to just throw in the towel.

It was Misty Fey all over again – publically shamed over a lie, 'not having the right to face or associate with her.' Her mother, Mia, Nick… the three people who exerted a most fundamental influence on her life, all taken from her without warning because of…Because of a lie, an injustice! It wasn't right. It wasn't fair! Was he going to disappear too?

"So what does this mean for us, then?" Her voice trembled.

This is his cue where Phoenix knew he was supposed to do the unselfish thing and tell her it was okay for her to move on if she wanted to, to find someone who would really dedicate himself and stay with her. But he couldn't force himself to say the words, even though he hated himself for it.

"I can't leave the city, and I know you have to dedicate yourself to being the Master and Kurain. I don't want you to feel you should ever give that up for me, either. So for now…I don't know, Maya. Maybe someday, things will change; when things have cooled off a bit here, but for now…"

Phoenix couldn't meet her eyes anymore. He knew if he saw tears in them, they would be his undoing, and he was barely holding it together as it was.

"…I don't want to be stirring up any more dramas for you here at the village anymore. I think it's best if I don't come back here for a while. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Nick. I get it." Maya's voice was hollow.

"I'm so sorry, Maya. I think I need you more than you need me. I'm just a hindrance to the Master thing, and in terms of relationship, I just… can't help or support you the way I should."

So _that_ was it. He thought he was being _noble_ , trying to set her free, unburdening her while he alone bared the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was so typically _Nick_ that Maya would have laughed if her mind wasn't already screaming in a panic about what this all ultimately meant _._

_I won't lose Nick! I can't! I was powerless to tell my mother how I felt, that she did have the right to face me, but I know better this time._

"Oh, Nick! Why do you think I needed you here so badly today? The only reason I thought I could get through this whole Master ordeal was because of _you_!"

She walked over to the bed where he was still sitting and reached for his hand, and her fingers were warm against his. "If all I have you with you now is today, don't want to lose any more time," she said quietly, and when he leaned forward to kiss her, he could taste the salt on her lips from tears, although he was uncertain if they were hers or his. It was like gravity, this thing between them, a pull as strong as the tides and unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He'd meant it as a joke when he'd said he could stay here forever, but he suddenly felt it was true. She pulled back for a moment, tipped his chin up with her finger, pulling him into a standing position, all the while looking deeply into his eyes.

"And I need you too, Nick."

Her lips were once again impacting his. He was already kissing her back, moving his hands up her arms, sliding slowly across her skin. Holding her in his dark, desirous gaze, he pulled her to him, pressing her right up to his body. One of his hands moved up the back of her neck, twining his fingers in her hair and tipping her face up to his. He brought his lips down again, this time barely brushing them against hers.

With a teasing smile, she asked said, "You never did say anything about my outfit or hairdo today, Buster! Do you think I'm pretty?"

He regarded her with utter seriousness, like he always did. "I thought you were beautiful. Then, and now. Especially now."

"Beautiful?"

"You are so beautiful it hurts me sometimes."

His lips moved to hers, gentle at first, and then hard and hungry. His kiss consumed her. His hands upon her arms slid down, down her hips, down to the edge of her kimono. He gathered up the fabric in his hands and began pushing it up her legs. She melted into his touch, into his kiss and the way it burned against her mouth. His hands kept sliding up and up, until he'd pulled the silky fabric over her head and tossed it on the floor, before grabbing her and falling back on the bed, this time on top of her. His own clothes followed suit.

Once they were both bare, it was Phoenix's idea to prolong gratification for as long as possible, not allowing them to touch each other, nor kiss, caress, or even brush each other with their breaths for a while. He lay still as he leaned above Maya as she lay back on the pillow, dark eyes fixed on him.

They gazed at each other for the longest time, both their hearts pounding, the blood rushing through their bodies.

Every part of Maya longed to be touched. Her lips tingled in anticipation. He smiled and brought his hand to within an inch of her breasts, moving over the air between them as if caressing her. She moaned, closed her eyes, and waited.

Despite how long they'd been apart, Phoenix had nevertheless come up there in a desperate hope to have the strength not succumb to his primitive urges, but now it was all he could do to keep from ravaging her like a ravenous beast.

"It's exquisite, this torture," he murmured, the air from his mouth warm against her throat.

She squirmed, moaned again, and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips in anticipation of his kiss. But he raised his head, far enough away so she could still feel his breath but couldn't reach his lips.

"Every inch between us is like a mile." His voice was hoarse. "Now you know how painful it is for me to return to the city and what it is like for me to look out of my window every day and think of you."

"There's never a day I'm not thinking of you, Nick." Her eyes never left his. "As selfish as this may sound, you're a part of me and if you hurt, it's like hurting me. If I love you, it's like loving me. That's why I don't ever want you to go."

"Maya," he finally rasped, then brought his lips closer and closer until they finally kissed. It was the most tingling, exciting kiss between them yet. She held him harder and tighter than he held her and then they finally touched and brought their bodies together. It was as if they had driven each other mad by teasing each other with their desire. She didn't want it to end, and when it threatened to do so, she cried out and demanded more, digging her fingers into his shoulders and hips. Their lovemaking was more frantic than it'd ever been this time, writhing against each other until both their bodies shone with sweat, their hearts ready to burst, their lungs unable to keep up with the demand for air.

Gasping, they lay back, their heads beside each other, his arm around her shoulders, and waited to catch enough breath to speak.

"Can you ever doubt my love for you?" He buried his face into her fragrant hair.

"No more than I can doubt my own for you," she choked out, then felt her eyes well up with tears. What they shared together was so beautiful, so right. But how could so many make it out to be something wrong, something ugly? And because of these same, hateful people, Maya had no idea when she'd ever set eyes on that beauteous face of Nick's again. If they'd ever get to be together, like this, ever again…

"Don't," he whispered tenderly, as though sensing her thoughts. "Please don't look so sad, my love. I'm sorry about everything I said earlier – if it made you feel bad, or brought back any painful memories…"

 _If it weren't for bad memories, I'd have no memories at all._ She looked away from him and tensed herself against the ridiculous urge to cry at his loving concern.

"We've all got bad memories," he susurrated. "But they don't belong here, between us. All we have is the here and now, and we're going to savor every moment of this heaven together for as long as we can, OK?" His fingers found a ticklish spot along her ribs and tortured a little smile out of her. "We were doing pretty damn good there for a while, weren't we?"

"Yes," she whispered, the corners of her mouth turning up in pleasure and slight embarrassment.

"That's it," he praised her in a warm, seductive voice. Settling himself on top of her, he lowered his head until they were nose to nose, lips to lips. "Smile for me." He smiled as she did. "Kiss me," he whispered, groaning with pleasure as she complied.

Her breath caught as he shifted his hips and eased into her again. Need took precedence over old, painful memories and hapless realities.

_Reach out and take something you want for once, Maya, and devil take the hindmost._

She wanted this. She wanted Phoenix – forever, but also... for _now_. For the mindless rapture, however fleeting, that only he could give her, along with the bliss that transported her mind away from the problems that plagued her.

 _Heaven_ , he'd called it. She arched her hips against his, closed her eyes, and held on to him for the return trip.

Again, the world had collapsed around them, and this time they knew they couldn't fix it, just as they both knew they had no answers on how to solve the many cruel injustices which kept them forcing them apart. All they could do was hold each other, and seek solace in one another's arms in some effort to still have something to cling to through all the madness and mayhem to make things better.

And before the day was over, they'd both relinquished any measure of conscious inhibition or control on their desire to be together for the first and last time in Kurain Village, and Lord only knew when else, ever again. It was a moment of spontaneous, fleeting passion, and they wanted to hold onto it in an effort to stay as close as physically possible to each other. She was soothed by the stress of his embrace, and remained quite still, relaxed against him, mingling into him. And he let himself go from past and future, was reduced to the moment with her. In which he took her and was with her and was one with her and there was nothing beyond, they were together in an elemental embrace beyond their superficial foreignness. There was nobody else in the world at the moment. It was just them. Nick and Maya.

Nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Metallica - Nothing Else Matters


	24. You Could Be Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Call up, ring once, hang up the phone  
> To let me know you made it home  
> Don't want nothing to be wrong with part-time lover
> 
> If she isn't with me I'll blink the lights  
> To let you know tonight's the night  
> For me and you my part-time lover
> 
> We are undercover passion on the run  
> Chasing love up against the sun  
> We are strangers by day, lovers by night  
> Knowing it's so wrong, but feeling so right
> 
> If I'm with friends and we should meet  
> Just pass me by, don't even speak  
> Know the word's "discreet" with part-time lovers
> 
> But if there's some emergency  
> Have a male friend to ask for me  
> So then she won't peek its really you my part-time lover
> 
> We are undercover passion on the run  
> Chasing love up against the sun  
> We are strangers by day, lovers by night  
> Knowing it's so wrong, but feeling so right
> 
> We are undercover passion on the run  
> Chasing love up against the sun  
> We are strangers by day, lovers by night  
> Knowing it's so wrong, but feeling so right
> 
> I've got something that I must tell  
> Last night someone rang our doorbell  
> And it was not you my part-time lover
> 
> And then a man called our exchange  
> But didn't want to leave his name  
> I guess that two can play the game  
> Of part-time lovers  
> You and me, part-time lovers  
> But, she and he, part-time lovers

**_Mystery Male and Unidentified Female_**  
 _Legal Office_  
Date and Time Unknown 

"You know, this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I said I wanted you to be working _under_ me tonight." She leaned back against the desk and crossed her long legs, flashing a sultry grin as she watched him undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, with painstaking slowness.

"The _hell_ it wasn’t," he growled, casting the garment aside. He strode purposefully towards her and yanked her up into a fully standing position, forcefully grabbing her by the waist. His fingers roughly untucked her blouse from her skirt and slid underneath the silk, gripping her around her back, his nails digging slightly into her skin. Since he was normally so tender with her, the abruptness was startling at first, but only for a moment. Then she realized she was turned on by this rarely seen side of him, by this slightly untamed, animalistic side that nobody else was ever privy to see.

His eyes were stormy as he heaved her against the hardness of his body.

"You knew _damn_ well what you wanted to happen when you said you wanted to meet tonight. There are no witnesses around, so you can cease your foolish little games now. They may work with _him_ , but not me. _Never me_."

She felt her pulse quicken at the undertone of anger lacing his words, despite the obvious evidence of his desire pressing up against her. There was a hint of grim determination lurking in his eyes as he yanked her blouse off over her head, not even bothering with undoing the tiny buttons. He deftly snapped open the clasp of her bra with just the flick of one finger, so that she was completely bared to him from the waist up. Then he jerked her to him once more, crushing her against his firm pecs before plunging his tongue between her panting lips.

The unrelenting plundering caught her off-guard, and she jerked her head away, panting slightly, both from wantonness and the urge to suddenly catch her breath.

"You haven't been kissed in a while, have you?"

_Oh God, it can't be that obvious._

"That's none of your business."

"Yes, it _is_ my business. And I'm making it priority business."

Hot, surging need slammed into her at the possessiveness in his tone. His grip tightened on her, quieting her denial.

"Don't lie to me, woman. You haven't been _laid properly_ in a while either, have you?"

"No, but I don't want you," she grit out, hating his arrogance, and herself even more for still wanting him nonetheless.

_Good God, he's like a sexually charged nuclear weapon about to detonate me._

"Don't be petulant," he whispered softly, smoothing a hand down her hair. "Do you want me to ravage you?"

Her chest tingled from the sensation of being rubbed against the hair on his broad chest.

She'd never experienced anything like this before; the way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke.

"You can't deny this tension between us." His voice was deathly sexy, his breath a warm gust of air against her throat as he nuzzled her. "This is as much for you as it is for me – for _us_. I have to get you out of my system. We'll play whatever game you want during daytime hours, but we'll have our own game. Just ours, which nobody else will ever know about. Do you understand me?"

_Please excuse me, but my brain is in a fog of lust and I can't think straight._

"What? You mean right here? Right _now_ . . . ?"

"Right here." Her muscles start quivering as he reached between their bodies and she heard the unzipping of his fly. "Right now."

"Have you been thinking about this for a long time now?" She swallowed back a moan when he bit the side of her neck and rasped "Yes," as if answering himself.

He nibbled down her neck to her shoulder, then his lips drifted lower, towards her bosom. It felt so good, she arched for him.

He smiled against her chest because of course, he knew – they _both_ knew – she was beyond fired-up and aching for him. Lord help her, but his tantalizing lips against her heated skin felt _so_ good… However, her pride was smarting because she was turned on so easily, despite his goading, macho act. She wanted to fight the yearning he made her feel, and put her hands on his shoulders, battling within herself and gathering the strength she required to push him away.

But then she realized . . . _Who am I kidding? He's right – despite my better judgement, I_ ** _do_** _want him as much as he wants me. This tension we've had between us all this time has been driving me insane! He_ ** _owes_** _me this. He damn well_ ** _should_** _pleasure me until I can't get enough!_

So she grabbed the back of his head and start kissing him again, groaning softly when he did the same, his mouth taking control of hers, his tongue working its magic on her as she felt his unmistakable hardness pressing against her skirt.

Then the next thing she knew, he had backed her against the wall and was kissing her hard. Harder than he'd ever kissed her before. But she was kissing him back with just as much fervor, moaning from pleasure as she raked her nails down the bare skin of his back. She was aware of so many things. Of the sleeping security guard down the hall. Of the hum of the lights and the faint whir of the air conditioning. And the delicious feel of his body as he pressed her against the wall. Of the way she was standing on tiptoe so he could reach her mouth. And especially of the way their mouths clung together and the feel of his tongue against hers and the faint scrape of his teeth as he nibbled her bottom lip.

He pulled himself off her, gasping for breath, his arms pinning her to his body as his other hand wrapped around, slid underneath the edge of her skirt and squeezed her ass. Hard. So hard she gasped. His eyes tight on hers, he released it, running his fingers down the crack of her ass and fingering the channel of her sex, covered in lace, his fingers running back and forth over the spot, a rakish grin stretching across his face at the dampness there.

“Is that for me or _him?”_

She didn’t answer, reaching between their bodies, expertly unzipping his fly, and fisting his rock-hard erection, wrapping her hand tightly around it, every vein in the organ outlined in the rigidity of his hardness.

“Answer me! Tell me the truth while I fuck you right here. While I make you scream so loud that anyone walking by will hear!”

“ _Make_ me,” she whispered, a challenge in her tone.

His hand tightened around her waist at the words, his eyes holding hers with a fierce look as he listened to her words.

“ _Make_ me scream your name. Make me your slut, right here and now and send me back to him with your cum still inside of me.”

He groaned, pushing her back against the wall, spreading her legs with his knees. He reached down with both hands, gripping her panties and pulling, ripping the sheer fabric with one strong jerk. Then his body was back against her, his chest hard on hers, his bare cock rough and bobbing at her entrance, probing for and then finding the wetness of her sex and pushing inside.

“Jesus Christ, woman,” he groaned, shoving upward, his hard thighs pinioning her to the wall, one hand squeezing her ass and the other her breast. He plunged again, his thighs relaxing and then flexing, every thrust bouncing her back against the wall, both his hands clasping her breasts, squeezing them into his palms, stroking her nipples into rock hard pebbles.

“Make me scream,” she grit out, her teal eyes on his. They were tortured grey, cloudy with hunger, latent with need. “Fuck me so hard and make me scream your name so loud that you fuck that man right out of my system.”

He roared then, the sound raw and primal, pushing her against the wall, losing control as he slammed against her, faster and faster until her body became a shaking sea of desire. As her core rattled and breath became gasping, his thrusts grew more urgent and dominant, his own breathing ragged as his hands found her face and brought her mouth to his.

“You are _mine_ ,” he gutted out, pumping into her, the length and level of his shaft brutal. “Mine,” he swore, as he released her mouth and turned her around, pushing her forward as he yanked her legs back, one hand hard on her back, the other gripping her ass. He didn’t slow the movement, giving her full, hard thrusts, her breasts bouncing freely, her mirrored image in the dark office window giving her a full view of her slutdom.

He was only naked to the waist as he thrust into her through his unzipped fly, his dark hair mussed, mouth open, and intensity over his face. His reflection pulled at her long brown hair, tilting her head back, and she found his eyes on hers reflected in the window.

“Do you like what you see?” His words were terse, thick. He was conflicted, but – from the level of his erection – fully aroused at the same time, his speed increasing, his breath loud in the small space. “You like knowing that you need to keep fucking me because you know that _he_ can never give it to you as good as I can?”

She didn’t answer, her climax was too close, every muscle in her body tightening in anticipation of the act, her sex throbbing and contracting around him, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation.

“God, Chief, you are so damn good…”

He pulled out abruptly, leaving her gasping, her chest aching as she turned to him, feeling his hands before she fully moved; they shoved her back, wrapping around her waist and lifting her, so she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist or risk falling, then glanced up to meet her eyes as he teased her with his erection, pressing forward just at the base of her but not fully entering. He put his mouth close to her ear, so she could feel the fiery heat of his breath and his words.

“Tell me you don’t want me to stop. Tell me you want me.”

“Please, don’t stop! I want you!” She gasped, arching against him, desperate to have him back inside of her. “I _need_ you!”

“Tell me to fuck you, Lana Skye.”

She smiled and complied. They were back in territory she understood.

“You didn’t say my name. Say my name when you tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, Miles Edgeworth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stevie Wonder - Part Time Lover


	25. She's Like The Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I am so touched by the fact that you guys are reading and reviewing *does happy dance*...even though some of you Miles/Fredgeworth fans may want to murder me for the last chapter! All I can say is ... Please keep reading? Also, forgive my gratuitous throwback to the 1980's chick flick here guys...but if you've read part one of the trilogy, you'll understand why that movie is such a nostalgic trip down memory lane for Phoenix. Also...Patrick Swayze was the one who first made me realize I liked boys! 😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We've made our decisions, we've taken our choices, what's left, is only a hand-full of emotions."

**_Phoenix Wright_**  
 _Wright Talent Agency_  
September 4, 2020, 3:00 PM

Phoenix stared at the television set in his living room, idly flipping channels on the TV set in an attempt to unwind a bit before he started work in a few hours that night. It was the very same one on which he used to watch the _Steel Samurai_ with her. The same one on which they heard the news about their future clients and their victories. It stayed there, far from him, as if to mock him. Far from him, just as she was.

It had been nearly nine months since Phoenix's self-imposed exile away from Maya. It had also been almost a year and a half since he'd lost his badge. It occurred to him that since Maya's last birthday, he'd seen the woman he loved on exactly two occasions. It was too depressing to even think about.

Both times had been to tell her goodbye.

Well, for the most part. And only for _now_ , anyway. He wasn't kicking her out of his _life_. He didn't think he could ever endure _that_.

They still emailed while she traveled for her Master's conferences and training, many which took her across the globe – he had souvenirs and postcards from most parts of Asia! – and they spoke on the phone, late at night after Trucy had gone to bed and he'd come home from another evening of "piano playing". Yes, that was still what Maya thought he did. Somehow he just couldn't find it in his heart to let his girlfriend (who against all odds, somehow hadn't lowered her opinion of him), know that he essentially ran an illegal poker gambling operation in the seedy pits of an icy hell. All the while using piano playing, and to his greater shame, his _daughter,_ as a cover.

It was a telling sign, how low he'd sunken when despite all this, the thing he _most_ felt guilty about was having her staying up so late just so they could chat since she often had early morning business meetings and such. But she always assured him not to worry, that it was a small price to pay.

Phoenix and Maya kept up their relationship, such as it was – but under strict wraps from Trucy, as it would just be too complicated to have her get ensnared into this tangled web – as well as the elders, who assumed Maya had acquiesced and cast him aside because they'd ordered her to.

Maya's birthday had come and gone in April. He hadn't even been able to _speak_ to her that day, never mind _see_ her. She'd been off on another remote retreat somewhere in Japan for the week before and after it, again with no electricity or technology access, so they hadn't even been able to Skype chat. However, when she'd returned to LA, she'd told him that the loving birthday e-card he'd sent her had been enough to assure her that out of sight didn't mean out of mind for him any more than it did for her.

Then she'd tearily professed that no matter where she went, she carried him in her heart, and had yet to take off the locket that he'd given her for her last birthday, as it was a tangible piece of him to always have with her.

Despite the forced joviality in Maya's tone as she assured him that she was still willfully accepting of her fate of mystery _Juliet_ girlfriend (who was now also forbidden on _her_ end in seeing her Romeo), she couldn't fool him in the slightest.

Phoenix, for his part, could sense that Maya was unhappy in the Kurain Master position and could not absolve his guilt that the disbarring had impeded her plans for balance and the opportunity to continue her life where she'd genuinely seemed her happiest - when she'd been his wisecracking office assistant.

Back then, things had been so simple. When life for both of them had been full of laughter and jokes and fun as they'd investigated the truth and fought for justice side by side. He sadly remembered how Maya had often told him that his kindness, his support, and his friendship had overshadowed everything else during her times of grief from the tragedies she'd had to suffer in-between. Later, when she'd found out that she had his _love_ , on top of everything else, she'd sworn she could face anything else that life chucked at them.

It was what she _still_ vowed now, to her boyfriend that she loved wholeheartedly but could seldom see. She could survive this separation, she assured him. As long as they loved each other, they could weather this storm. Like all other tragedies that had befallen them, this too would surely pass. Phoenix wasn't sure to whom Maya was trying to convince of that particular platitude. Was it _him_ , or _herself?_

The hobo had never felt more frustrated, helpless or miserable in his entire life. There wasn't a single day that went by that the same, futile thought didn't cross his mind at least a dozen times a day.

_Damn those old hags of Kurain, with all their rules and all their icy stares! And damn that wretched Dragon Lady, Mystic Mildew to the fieriest pits of hell for being the catalyst behind this all!_

Of course, for the sake of the Master of Kurain's reputation, the elders of Kurain strongly discouraged contact with a blemished lawyer, disbarred for using false evidence.

He thought it only tactless to intrude, as there was little practical help he could provide. After all, _he_ was the source of much of her ongoing problems, and he was grateful that she had kept up their "friendship" despite the rest of society's ostracism and the stain it cast on her reputation.

So that was the latest tragic tale of how another nine months – the same length of time as a human pregnancy – had passed without him setting eyes on the love of his life. It was gut-wrenching, but what choice did he have? Their circumstances were hardly ideal for a normal relationship.

He had a daughter who had no idea of Maya's existence, and while her formalized adoption had at last been completely finalized the month before, there were other, far more sinister factors to consider. And he couldn't visit Kurain. Well, he _could_ , Maya insisted, but she probably just didn't want to hurt his feelings. So he refused. He knew it would make things even more difficult for her right now.

As it turned out, The Dragon Lady _hadn't_ been blowing smoke when she'd loftily informed him that Maya was now a woman to be revered! In fact, in some hasty research post _State vs Iris_ , the ex-lawyer had discovered that the Kurain Master held far more power and influence than he'd ever suspected. Phoenix's self-esteem had taken a significant hit in the whole disbarring fiasco – what had possessed him to be so incomprehensibly stupid as to fall into that obvious trap and present that _'evidence?'_

Consequently, he almost felt ashamed to associate with his lover, his negative public image being what it was and all.

To top it all off, his girlfriend had confided that despite being long gone and rotting in prison on death row, the vile stench of lies and mistrust that her aunt had left behind in her wake still ran rampant amongst many of the Elders. Lady Macbeth had completely screwed her niece over long before Maya had ever assumed the unwanted Master position. Although she wasn't there to bask in the fruits of her labor, even in absence, the seeds Morgan the Maleficent planted had fully sprouted.

When Misty Fey had vanished, Pearl's wretched mother had gone about political 'restructuring' – which essentially meant commandeering as much power away from the actual Master as possible, and inflaming a pathological fear and resentment of law and legal circles, since they had been what 'destroyed' Misty and Mia. Kurain politics were the dirty stuff that White House wet dreams were made of. And this ghastly gaggle of women would undauntedly kill each other when and if things don't work out, by disturbing historic precedent.

Phoenix wished with all his heart he could go stick his foot up several asses, or, failing that, encourage those old bags to eat _several kinds_ of dick! However, he knew anything he did would only worsen matters, as for one thing, it was only up until recently the world had stopped seeing the Kurain Technique itself as a fraud. And for another, all the village heavyweights thought he was the pointy-haired devil himself, the fraudulent criminal disbarred attorney who'd corrupted their new Master and ensured the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree as Misty, of course, had been lured to 'betray' them all by some lawyer.

There had been a nasty debacle after his disbarring where some shoddy tabloid had hypothesized if there had been a 'forged channeling' during the _State vs. Iris_ trial! Mercifully, it'd been the sort of ill-reputed rag whose ideas of hard news tended to revolve around Elvis sightings in outer space and advocating miracle diet drugs that made you lose 21 pounds in 18 minutes! Phoenix had been beyond relieved that the lunacy hadn't spread further; he didn't know if he could have abided being the reason behind the Master yet again be a laughing stock, and whose business had tanked because ultimately, _nobody_ wanted a forged channeling!

One of the Kurain cronies – without Maya's consent – went into damage control and informed the publication that the Master and Phoenix had severed all ties over the disbarring. The village head was naturally furious, but he'd told her to go with that story, at least for the moment.

It had been little wonder Mia had thought Maya would have been better off in the care of Phoenix than amongst her own people. The Kurain Master truly could have used the assistance of a _practicing_ lawyer, one who could assist with updating Kurain laws, as well as assist the newly appointed leader make her own, to help get clout over the council of elders.

_Nice one, Wright, ruining things for her._ Phoenix brooded to himself as he idly flipped through the channels. _I was right in making the call in staying away from her. As it is, I'm just detrimental to any chance of her gaining respect._

_Dirty Dancing_ was playing on the TV set. Even though the classic 80's film was the mother of all chick flicks, Phoenix couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he watched the handsome, graceful Johnny Castle effortlessly glide around his Baby, moving in perfect harmony with her to sultry, pulsating beats. Maya had loved this movie. Had even tried to clumsily reenact the famous dance number at the end, where the heroine had dashed across the crowded room to the side of her lover, where he'd effortlessly caught her in his strong arms and lifted her easily over his head.

In _their_ case, the diviner been lucky she'd had him to break her fall, as all that had been achieved from _her_ running leap efforts had been Phoenix winding up crumpled on the ground, with her sprawled on top of him! The two of them had better resembled a couple of askew pretzels rather than poetry in motion!

_God_ , how he missed her! His burger-loving, chick-flick watching, wannabe tiny dancer!

Well, while it was true that the taut but lithe and dually left-footed Phoenix Wright possessed neither the muscles nor suave rhythmic moves of the late, great Patrick Swayze, there was _one_ trait of the studly actor that he could _potentially_ emulate ... if he only took the time…

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright_**  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
September 4, 2020, 10:45 PM

Phoenix truly, madly deeply hated The Borscht Bowl. It was always frigid and despite Olga's great pride in her signature-made dish, _was_ there anything more genuinely disgusting and unpalatable than _borscht?_

_What the hell even **is** borscht? It's red, so it could either be tomato soup or blood. And it smells as if it contains the supporting cast of The Little Mermaid! Ugh...Sebastian the Crab blood? Do shellfish even have blood? … All three contenders are gag-worthy, tomatoes, shellfish and blood, so it's an ultimate pass on the borscht, no matter how many times Miss Olga Orly tries cramming her alleged homemade masterpiece down my throat!_

On top of it all, he was finding his new miserable life intensely draining. He endeavored to keep positive around Trucy, who was largely his only motivation to get out of bed, but the blatant hostility and rejection from all his former acquaintances still pained him – the far away but not forgotten Edgeworth and his adopted "siblings", the Gumshoes, notwithstanding. Plus, his so-called "job" kept him on edge, since he'd never really considered himself a poker player and it was surely only a matter of time before he lost and was fired, and cultivating an uneasy "friendship" since the beginning of the year with that highly unpleasant Kristoph Gavin consumed all his powers of self-control.

Never in his life had Phoenix ever felt so bleak.

_Without my unbroken poker win streak, I am nothing – and in this empty, meaningless game, it's the inconvenient truth,_ he lamented dejectedly. _That's why I hope it doesn't matter that I don't even care anymore how much I use Trucy to cheat – that I shamelessly use my daughter as collateral, exploit her on my behalf when I'm supposedly now her **legal** guardian. I even feel like I've won, like it's a legitimate part of the game. Trucy probably just thinks it's a magic trick._

It _was_ all just another part of the performance. An inescapable act on the Phoenix Wright Never-Ending Magic Show.

Boris and Natasha had known who he was right out of the gate. They'd hired him based on his reputation. His criminal reputation. There were all kinds of illegal betting rings and Lord knew what else going on within these freezing walls. He did his best to turn a blind eye, just as they'd always suspected he would.

"My other Daddy played here all the time," Trucy confessed to Phoenix, shortly after he'd been hired. It had been one of his reasons for keeping the crummy job in this lousy hell. He had to believe that someday, somehow, the elusive Zak would turn up there one day.

Trucy kept him sane. Only around his daughter could he be something even remotely resembling his old self. But even then, ever since that fateful day she'd caught him pathetically weeping at the table over a year ago, it never escaped his mind that he could only ever reveal a subsection of his true feelings. After all, _he_ was the adult, and _she_ was the child. He couldn't upset her. He couldn't reveal his problems. He had to mask his pain and attempt to obscure at least _some_ of his flaws. While he and Trucy had a very close and loving connection, it was far more of a mutual support partnership than surely most real fathers had with their daughters.

He knew it was dysfunctional, the way he allowed Trucy to also look after him. He felt like shit-heel about that at times. He knew if he were a more responsible parent, he'd try harder to stop it. But he didn't. He _couldn't_. And he was all too painfully aware of what – _who_ – he was compensating for.

The compulsion over that "occurrence" was what led him, like a lamb to slaughter, to repeatedly accept Kristoph Gavin's offers of hospitality, over and over again.

From their earlier meetings, the pianist soon got the impression Kristoph was a potentially dangerous individual and his instinct was to protect his girlfriend from the consequences – the whole disbarring mess had nothing to do with her. The seemingly affable German assumed that Phoenix and Maya were lovers. The erstwhile Ace Attorney spent quite a lot of time and effort deconstructing that impression so defense attorney would believe that they weren't. He had no concrete proof that it was his safest and best bet to lie about Maya – the German man had exuded nothing but genteel charm towards him. But Phoenix's magatama wasn't something to deny, and so the charade commenced.

His emotional response refuting the claim was awkward – not one he could properly cover, in spite of having perfected his poker face. Ergo, he decided the best tactic in terms of believability was to pretend Maya thought he had forged the evidence, was furious with him, and things were now frigid; anything between them was long over. It was close enough to the truth in his mind for his actions to be convincing. Kristoph genuinely seemed to have bought it – the card shark could even feign anger. In actuality, it was all directed solely at himself, this rage and self-loathing about ruining the legal practice and consequently, what they'd had together.

The spiky-haired man's gut instincts about his 'stalker' had proven to be correct when the Thursday night following his last visit to Kurain, Kristoph had accosted him after he'd played his final set of the evening, the expression behind his glasses simultaneously placid but probing.

It appeared that Phoenix's absence and whereabouts that past weekend hadn't escaped the blond man's attention.

"So," Kristoph remarked mildly, taking a small sip of that vile red wine he so favored. "Did you have a nice visit in Kurain, visiting your lover?"

"Maya? Oh _God_ no, she's not my lover!" Somehow, Phoenix managed a slight, derisive laugh, even as he felt his stomach drop into his shoes. He knew he'd _never_ told Kristoph what his plans for the weekend were going to be! "She's the former office manager of my law office. We needed to finalize business matters over the closure of the legal practice."

Despite his stoic expression, the poker champ sensed the other man didn't believe him and all his previous efforts spinning a semi-legitimate story in his mind were now in vain. What was it about people being able to read him like a book when it came to Maya Fey? How was it they could somehow just ... _tell?_ Long before Phoenix _himself_ had been able to?!

A far more inbred instinct surged forth; to protect Maya, from this danger – if indeed his gut reaction was correct and not leading him astray again – of entirely his own making, in which she should not be involved. What was he going to do?

Phoenix knew he wouldn't be able to conceal his highly emotional response – he never had been able to do so when it came to that girl _long_ before he'd professed his love to her – and covering up their history had proven to be impossible. Instead, he opted for another route altogether – infuriated, mortally wounded ex-boyfriend.

He pictured Mildew's withered, wilting prune face. It was from this which he drew his ire as he spat out his next words.

"Maya, in the end, didn't have enough faith or trust in me to be in it for the long haul. She chose to believe the lies of those around her and convinced herself that I forged the evidence. She sees me as nothing but a low-life who has sullied the pristine name of her revered title and that of her hoity-toity village. She feels I'm beneath a woman of her station now and wants nothing more to do with me in the future."

Kristoph smirked but shook his head in a sham semaphore of commiseration.

"Ah, so you tried to maintain relations but ultimately were jilted in your efforts, were you?"

Phoenix stifled a gulp at how pleased as punch his faux tale of misery seemed to make the other man. _Scheiße auf einen Cracker,_ Kristoph was one sinister sonofabitch! However, the Coolest Defense in the West mercifully seemed to be buying this particular angle and it was the best he could think of at the moment, considering the afflicted wounds from his Kurain visit were still fresh.

He contemplated playing the forlorn, discarded lover angle but then opted for resentment instead, as it would be easier to prove he was squelching all desire for reconciliation. It was easy enough to do – the anger was indeed real. It was directed at _himself_ , for yet _again_ having to _deny_ , and now _bad-mouth_ , his beloved Maya.

"Damn she-devil!" Phoenix fumed. "When the chips were down, she was nowhere to be found! And after I gave her my whole heart! Well to _hell_ with her then! She thinks she's too good for me, yet I have no idea what _I_ ever saw in her – her… _ridiculous, juvenile ass!_ And now that the law firm is over, _thank Christ,_ I no longer have any excuses or reasons to need to see that disloyal, duplicitous kisser – _ever_ again!"

Tears stung his eyes as the despicable words left his mouth – although he'd be _damned_ if he ever let that blasted man seem them fall! Nonetheless, he'd unaffectedly upset himself enough over it to be convincing. Kristoph genuinely seemed to believe him, taking the agitation to mean this was all not an act, rather than deduce the reality; that it was the sick lies Phoenix was forced to utter that was making him so distraught.

It gave the hobo quite the sense of gratification, the notion that he'd finally succeeded in convincing his perceived frenemy that he and Maya would never again be an item, taking her off the blond's radar of consideration. However, Phoenix was glad he'd managed to keep Trucy in the dark about the whole thing; having an over-enthusiastic kid running around and unwittingly spouting contradictory information was surely something that would have gotten back to Kristoph and damaged the whole defensive façade.

He'd been successful in his endeavors. For these past nine months of being Kristoph's alleged pal, during all their coffee chats and visits, Maya's name was never brought up again. And to his utter relief, the past few months, the German's visits to see him at the bar had been steadily dwindling. The phony musician hadn't seen or heard from him in months, for which he was most relieved.

And so, Phoenix was lost in his own little world as he played the last ballad of the night to a captive and appreciative audience. It was only the second whole song he'd ever taught himself to play since … _that_ _one_ from many moons ago. Encouraged by the cheers of the crowd, the pianist found himself dutifully singing the lyrics as he played, as they perfectly matched how he'd been feeling all day.

* * *

**_She's like the wind through my tree_ **   
**_She rides the night next to me_ **   
**_She leads me through moonlight_ **   
**_Only to burn me with the sun_ **   
**_She's taken my heart_ **   
**_But she doesn't know what she's done_ **

* * *

**_I feel her breath on my face_ **   
**_Her body close to me_ **   
**_Can't look in her eyes_ **   
**_She's out of my league_ **

* * *

**_Just a fool to believe_ **   
**_I have anything she needs_ **   
**_She's like the wind_ **

* * *

**_I look in the mirror and all I see_ **   
**_Is a young old man with only a dream_ **   
**_Am I just fooling myself_ **   
**_That she'll stop the pain_ **   
**_Living without her_ **   
**_I'd go insane_ **

* * *

**_I feel her breath on my face_ **   
**_Her body close to me_ **   
**_Can't look in her eyes_ **   
**_She's out of my league_ **

* * *

**_Just a fool to believe_ **   
**_I have anything she needs_ **   
**_She's like the wind_ **

* * *

**_I feel your breath on my face_ **   
**_Your body close to me_ **   
**_Can't look in your eyes_ **   
**_You're out of my league_ **

* * *

**_Just a fool to believe_ **   
**_She's like the wind_ **   
**_Just a fool to believe (just a fool to believe)_ **   
**_She's like the wind_ **   
**_Just a fool to believe_ **   
**_She's like the wind_ **   
**_Just a fool_ **   
**_She's like the wind..._ **

* * *

The patrons were still applauding when the ivory-tickler took his final bow for the night. While he thought their alcohol-impaired minds hardly made them discerning music critics – he'd only practiced the song for a couple of hours before work just earlier that day – he knew that while he was no Swayze-like crooner, his singing voice wasn't half-bad. It was certainly better than his playing; singing was something which he only resorted to when he needed to create a distraction from a more off-key than usual playing night.

Tonight, it had been one of those nights.

As he stood up and headed towards the stairs to The Hydeout, he saw a flash of flaxen hair. With a start, he realized the periwinkle-suited man was standing in the corner of the bar, watching, and now moving toward him.

Kristoph wore his customary smirk as he approached Phoenix, who'd just been about to make his escape downstairs. The German was still applauding as he drew nearer, even though the look on his face didn't resemble that an advocate who was still appreciating the performance he'd just heard. However, he certainly didn't look displeased. As usual, he was the epitome of imperturbability and composure.

"Bravo, _Herr_ Wright, bravo!" Kristoph gave one final slow clap before fixing his icy blue eyes on the beanie-wearer. "In all the time I've had the privilege of hearing you tickle those ivories, my friend, I have _never_ before known what a _lark_ hath been hiding from me underneath that hat! What _else_ have you been keeping from me, hmmm?"

"You're far too kind, Kristoph." He cracked a smile of attempted humility. "But thank you."

"Alas, I know _not_ why the proverbial caged birds sings." The hint of a smile flickered across Kristoph's smarmy countenance. Phoenix thought the man had an awful smile – it was more like a leer. "Whatever inspired such a melodious, yet _melancholic_ melody, _Herr_ Wright? Has your heart not _healed_ from Miss Fey's _taking a heel_ to it earlier this year? Or are you a victim of fresh heartache anew, perchance?"

"None of the above!" The hobo lied easily, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck while smiling nervously. "You give me too much credit as a musician, Kristoph, if you think I am actually able to _project_ and vent my _genuine_ emotions through song! My Trucy loves the, ah, _magic scenes_ in that movie. Especially the part where the man is sawing the woman inside the box. Unfortunately, that means she also makes me sit through the _whole film_ because she likes the music in it as well. I suppose that's why I had one of the tunes stuck in my head."

"You possess the keen ability to play by ear, do you?"

"I guess so. I can't read music worth a lick ... but yeah, if I concentrate hard and listen to a song enough, I can usually play something that _closely resembles_ it, heh, heh."

"Yes, although it's most curious how the saddest love song in the film was indeed the most memorable to you," Kristoph arched an eyebrow, although he nodded his head in understanding. "If anything, I'd have thought it'd have been the catchy ear-worm number they play at the end, where the couple does that famous dance lift scene."

The conversation was beginning to make Phoenix's composure unravel. Deep down, he would have bet his life that Kristoph was speaking of more than just the charming retro flick. There was an underlying menace to his words that could not be ignored.

It was the true reason why, even if the Elders in Kurain _hadn't_ put their foot down about Maya associating with him, Phoenix would have opted to stay away from her, regardless. It was why he was doing so _now_ , even though he knew his lover was confused and upset by his refusal to try to see her.

If only he could tell her the truth! But the truth was cloaked in shadow, making it difficult to determine. Was Kristoph his friend or enemy? _Was_ he as evil as he seemed? _Would_ the man hurt Maya or him or Trucy? And what about that brother of his? Would the rock god play along with or orchestrate a plot to cause them harm?

One moment Phoenix was certain that in the end, good would triumph over evil and justice would be served to all those that had hurt him and his loved ones. The next moment, he felt like he was losing his marbles and that his daughter deserved a saner guardian, one who could truly be a family with the woman he loved and give her the new mommy she'd been asking for more and more lately.

Sometimes the worst thought of all was his fear that he was wrong about Kristoph, that he was being overly paranoid and keeping himself and Maya apart for no real reason.

Realizing he still hadn't replied to Kristoph's observation, he fought back the urge to squirm, as he was starting to grow steadily more uncomfortable under the man's unwavering gaze.

"Well, since you're not a fan of classic 80's love soundtracks, as my most frequent audience member, I should allow you to make a request for the next time I play!" Phoenix joked, flashing his most disarming grin. "What song shall I learn that might better please you, Kristoph?"

Instead of answering, the other man slowly began singing out the lyrics to the famous Police song, the cold smile never leaving his phizog as he did so.

Phoenix felt his blood chill down to the bone.

" _Every move you make, every vow you break. Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Swayze - She's Like the Wind  
> The Police - Every Breath You Take


	26. My Cross To Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many nights we prayed  
> With no proof anyone could hear  
> In our hearts, a hopeful song  
> We barely understood
> 
> Now we are not afraid  
> Although we know there's much to fear  
> We were moving mountains long  
> Before we knew we could, oh yes
> 
> There can be miracles when you believe  
> Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill  
> Who knows what miracles you can achieve  
> When you believe, somehow you will  
> You will when you believe
> 
> Oh yeah, in this time of fear  
> When prayer so often proves in vain  
> Hope seems like the summer birds  
> Too swiftly flown away  
> Yet now I'm standing here  
> My heart's so full, I can't explain  
> Seeking faith and speaking words  
> I never thought I'd say
> 
> There can be miracles when you believe  
> Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill  
> Who knows what miracles you can achieve  
> When you believe, somehow you will  
> You will when you believe
> 
> They don't always happen when you ask  
> And it's easy to give in to your fear  
> But when you're blinded by your pain  
> Can't see your way clear through the rain  
> A small but still resilient voice  
> Says hope is very near, oh
> 
> There can be miracles when you believe  
> Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill  
> Who knows what miracles you can achieve  
> When you believe, somehow you will  
> Somehow you will  
> You will when you believe
> 
> You will when you  
> You will when you believe  
> Just believe  
> I believe, I believe  
> Just believe  
> You will when you believe

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey  
_** September 5, 2020, 3:00 AM

Maya sometimes wondered if there was more than met the eye with regards to her relationship with Phoenix. Despite her efforts to try to sneak in a visit, he kept making excuses about why he couldn't see her – even when her conferences and travels had taken her to his neck of the woods, in Los Angeles, a few times in the past couple of months! As the Gumshoes were always willing and delighted babysitters for Trucy, she'd have thought her boyfriend would have leaped at the chance to see her for a few stolen hours or even the night!

But no, Phoenix always had some excuse, muttering things about ruining her reputation if the Elders found out she'd seen him, to which she always retorted she didn't give a rat's ass about – he meant more to her than a village of narrow-minded spinsters and this cursed position she'd never wanted, but he was obstinate and wouldn't budge – she blamed the fact that he was a Capricorn. He really was a stubborn old goat just like his astrology sign dictated!

That night, when she'd spoken to him on the phone, things had nearly come to a head. When she'd flat out demanded if he was telling the truth or simply making lame excuses not to see her this time around – Trucy was formally adopted now so why the holdup still? – he'd mumbled something about him putting her danger if he were to be around her right now.

Maya sat there on the phone in stunned silence, unsure she'd heard him right.

"Nick, _what_ did you just say?"

She heard her boyfriend make a funny noise, almost like a groan. She could picture him right now, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead with that hilarious, chagrined chimpanzee expression on his face as he realized how much of a slip of the tongue he'd made. Even though she couldn't see his face, she was able to feel his emotions, his expressions. It made her grin, despite herself.

 _We can get through this,_ Maya assured herself. _No – we **will** get through this! We just both need to be patient. Nothing good ever comes out of hurry and frustration, only misery. So, if you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it._

Phoenix felt the smile and regained his composure. While the circumstances were no laughing matter, he was glad to have been able to brighten up that lovely face. He was convinced they were linked in some cosmic, otherworldly way.

_When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile._

God, he loved his Maya. She was his soul mate. They didn't have to be physically with one another to be together, or so he told himself, but perhaps it was nothing more than delusion … just like this apparent paranoia of his.

"Danger?" He cleared his throat and felt one hand unconsciously drop to his hip now, while the other free one slid behind his neck as he held the phone in his shoulder. "I didn't say danger. I said, um, _don't be a stranger_!"

"Nick, you're such a lousy liar! I know you too well! Now tell me, _what the hell_ is going on here!" Maya hated it when he kept things from her. It was a painfully stinging rejection indeed when you coupled his secrecy with his refusal to see her.

"Remember I told you I was going to try and become Kristoph's friend? Well, mission accomplished, but this isn't a relationship that isn't without some risks and some complications, Maya. Things could get a little – capricious. I could be wrong, but I don't want to take that gamble. Which is why I don't want you with me…"

"Are you saying I can't visit you next time I'm down in the city?" She felt like crying now.

"Yes! No! Ngh! Maya, listen, it's late… I don't know exactly what I'm saying…"

"Phoenix Wright don't you dare try to pussyfoot around with me!" Maya was beyond hurt now and just flat out peeved. "I'm not hard of hearing and I'm not going to listen to any more of your ridiculous bluffs to try to cover up what you just said! I heard you say _danger_!"

Her voice softened but remained at the same level of intensity.

"Nick, _please_. Talk to me."

"It's Gavin, OK?" He blurted out. "Kristoph Gavin… that creepy blond lawyer I mentioned to you last time I came up. He's got me all shook up. I'm worried about you. Kristoph can smile to your face and stab you in the back."

"I remember, Nick. So tell me that truth, right now." Her voice was as stern as a school teacher. "You're not doing anything dangerous are you?"

"You told me not to lie to you, my love." A long sigh on the other end of the phone. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

That meant yes. Maya swallowed. She knew Phoenix was worried about her because he knew he was taking risks getting close to Kristoph, who, if he _was_ as dangerous as her boyfriend was speculating, and realized he was on to him, forget _her_ , _Nick_ could be the one in real danger!

"How are you going about protecting Trucy, Nick? She's not only your daughter but she's also involved in all this…you don't think…"

Her voice trailed off. She was too afraid to even finish the awful thought in her mind, never mind say it out loud.

"I don't know how much I can do, but I can't worry about you, too. This is why I've emphasized that we can't see each other right now, Maya. If you're up in Kurain, at least I know you're safe."

"I think you're being ridiculous, Nick," the Master declared. "I'm a big girl who's been through quite enough to last several lifetimes. I can take care of myself! Besides, I think you're going about this wrong. Have you forgotten we're partners? You don't need to bear the weight of this alone! Let me help! I've established internet and a cell tower and a burger chef up here in the sticks, there must be _something_ I can do!"

"My love, I will never forget you're my partner. I'll give you a job," the pianist promised. "I swear I will, but I'm not that far along yet. And besides, I'm going off nothing but hunches and the non-stop glowing of my magatama. I could still be wrong about the whole Gavin thing! But I give you my word, I'll let you know."

"I don't understand why you think it's dangerous. Have you been threatened?"

_Not unless you count him knowing every step I take, every move I make, and me and Trucy's whereabouts even when I haven't told him of them, and **then** , as the icing on the cake, singing lyrics of the creepiest stalker pop song known to man as a direct threat._

Phoenix decided to keep these thoughts to himself. He knew these occurrences wouldn't be seen as enough evidence to validate his fears to the police if he were to approach them with the issue.

And if he told Maya his suspicions, she would either laugh them off or worse, make herself sick with worry, when there was nothing she would be able to do. He wisely kept his peace.

"No, everything seems fine," he told her. "But that's what doesn't make sense. Criminals like to tie up loose ends. They like to bump people off who know stuff and there are too many people in the city who know stuff, myself included. I worry someone's going to try to kill me or someone near me is going to end up dead and probably pretty soon."

She hesitated, but only for an instant. She'd never been one to mince words with Phoenix when they'd just been friends and she saw no reason to keep things bottled up from him when, despite the distance that separated them, he was her lover and partner.

"Nick, in all these evaluations you've had to make sure you were a fit parent for Trucy, did they ever evaluate you for paranoia?" There was an air of amused exasperation in her voice.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and for a split second, she thought he'd hung up on her. Then Phoenix let out a loud, booming chuckle. It was so hearty and genuine that Maya knew he wasn't crazy. If he had been, he'd have gotten defensive.

"So, after all this time you've decided that I might be nuts. Is that it?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted honestly.

"Well, I hope I'm paranoid. If nobody gets killed or hurt I'd be happy. Better paranoid than dead, my love."

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey_**  
 _Fey Manor_  
September 5, 2020, 5:30 AM

The conversation hadn't gone on much longer after that. And so the case was closed for now, leaving Maya with nothing to do but fight back her tears of disappointment, as she'd been doing this whole time, and look forward to yet another looming stretch of time and distance in the horizon, separating her from the man she loved.

If she wasn't able to be a proper girlfriend to Nick – he wouldn't let her, dammit! – then she could at least be the best Master she could be, while being a good daughter to her mother, by filling in her shoes as best as possible and becoming a village leader that Misty Fey would have been proud of.

So Maya flung herself into intense instruction practices immediately after the official Kurain Master Induction ritual had taken place. It wasn't as if she'd had a choice - what else was there for her to do? Mope about the fact she was in a village of elders who felt nothing but contemptuous loathing for her and who would leap at the opportunity to crow that they were right and that she did completely suck and was unworthy of her title? That she was obviously unfit to fill her mother's shoes because all she could apparently focus on was the loss of that no good ex-lawyer of hers?

The same one who claimed he loved her and had yet made zero effort to see her since the day of her ceremony?

Mildred, in particular, took advantage the most of this fact, almost daily rubbing salt into the wound that Maya's precious Nick that she'd so vehemently championed for hadn't even cared enough about her to fight back and make the efforts to see her since Chinese New Year, conveniently forgetting that it'd been Mildred herself who'd threatened to charge him with trespassing if he ever set foot into the village again!

It took all every ounce of Maya's self-control to keep from knocking the woman into the middle of next week looking both ways for Sunday!

Pearl was despaired upon seeing the chronic state of misery the village elder put the master in, although as the little girl's guardian, Maya had had to repeatedly restrain the princess of sharp slaps not to make good on her constant loyal offers to take care of that "mean old witch" by "slapping her to sleep, then slapping her for sleeping!" Maya had been torn between laughter and bewilderment at the offer - what the _hell_ were they teaching kids on that _Children's Masterpiece Theatre_ program that Pearl was always watching nowadays?!

After all, aside from a moment of delicious instant gratification, what good would it do, really? It wouldn't bring Nick's badge back or return him back to her side, and defending his honor to the council was just fruitless.

Maya could plead Phoenix's case until she was blue in the face and implore that he was a good man who'd been wronged, framed for acts he'd never committed, but it would only have fallen on willfully deaf ears. The damage that had been done, and the years of mistrust of outsiders, and particularly, of the legal world, stemmed from roots that had been in place way before Phoenix or Maya had ever come along.

Most of the Kurain Elders and power brokers were not intrinsically unpleasant or malicious people, and much of their intense hostility toward Phoenix, Maya and the legal world had its origins in fear and intimidation.

The opportunist Morgan had seized the opening to portray herself as their savior who could salvage a future of reordering.

Kurain's customary traditional beliefs and values had always usurped traditional laws and concepts of justice. Many of Morgan's right-hands, Mildred especially, still genuinely believed that Morgan's attempts against Maya were justified and more honorable, rather than criminal in nature. After all, she'd only been trying to ensure the village's future was protected, and if securing that by finding a more viable Master meant sacrificing Maya as the only way to do so, then so be it. Morgan, they believed, should have been commended rather than condemned. The elders truly resented and saw Maya as the disloyal, disgruntled leader who was the reason such a noblewoman was no longer among them! Even those who were more neutral and reasonable and agreed that Morgan's methods had been wrong were still distrustful, skeptical and suspicious of official legal meddling.

The ever manipulative and overly ambitious Morgan had taken advantage of DL-6 with gusto. She'd gleefully cultivated and inflated the fear and resentment of the law by citing how is was responsible for the caused destruction of Kurain's reputation, inflaming the inferno of suspicion and acrimony against both the legal world and the disgraced Misty. Morgan had convinced them that her sister's intentions had been far from virtuous, and had spin doctored the whole incident by portraying Maya's mother as the woman who had betrayed them all by becoming entangled in its ominous stems and consequently causing both her own collapse and their near- devastation.

Such chaos and panic had been a perfect atmosphere for the ever calculating and crafty Lady Macbeth to seize and exert control. Mia had already been lost to the legal world's 'corruptive influence' but she had never been a viable candidate anyway – brought up by and too much likely to be like her mother. Law was seen as a blasphemy within the village walls; a sinister threat which had caused all their problems and would continue to do so if they allowed any sort of association with it, directly, or indirectly, to continue.

Due to this mistrust of legal matters, Phoenix had been viewed with misgiving even before his downfall. His associations with Maya were regarded as interfering in Kurain affairs and a perilous, contaminative influence. Now, of course, they all believed he had constructed forgeries for his other cases too, including the three trials involving Maya.

None of them believed Maya had really committed the murders (there was no motivation to kill Mia, as she had already abdicated her right to the Master position) but Maya was conclusively viewed as a rabble-rouser.

After Mia had left to become a lawyer, it had been Morgan who had raised Maya and taken the reins over all the preparations and training the future Master would require. Her underlying plan had been to simply ensure that while her niece would be adequately trained in spirit channeling, she would be ill-prepared for the future power plays, diplomacy, politics, or any of the other areas which might better allow Maya to wield autonomous power when she assumed the role. After all, why would the cunning woman do anything to thwart away from her ultimate goal, which was to wield Master Maya to her own whims as (inconspicuously) possible?

When Maya had been staying with Phoenix in the city, Morgan had stirred the village in an uproar over the disappearance of her "insubordinate and uncontrollable" niece. She was going to defect to the seduction of the "dark side" just as her female relatives had – aka the one thing Morgan feared would surpass the authority of archaic tradition – the law.

Of course, many powerbrokers on the national Kurain Technique boards were perfectly nice, reasonable, people. Morgan, however, had installed various loud, hostile individuals in pivotal positions, and it would take a very long to demote or diffuse them all.

So this was what Maya had been forced to contend with since she'd taken over the leadership role. Mastering politics, which she loathed and no interest in, and currently attempting to compose a list of initial essential restructurings to initiate as Master amidst the grumblings of reluctant dinosaurs who were resistant to change of any sort. Kurain residents were big on tradition, and Maya was sick of tradition!

Some of her implementations were obvious and straightforward, such as arranging regular delivery of fresh meat and other yummy foodstuffs for the new burger chef. Also, on top of getting cell signals and internet, albeit not the world's fastest connection up in the village, her next motions were to: **install satellite dish to receive maximum TV channels** , **get DVD and DVR recorders** (how else could she watch _The Pink Princess_ and _Steel Samurai_ DVD movies?) **Kill all antiquated VCR's with fire!** A few of her other aspirations were more debatable: **Installing security cameras in Channeling Chamber. Will it interfere with spirits?**

So while she was Master, she was still essentially just a figurehead, caught in a sick power struggle over which she frequently never had the upper hand.

Much like the ghost of Jacob Marley in _A Christmas Carol_ , even though the so-called sins of Feys past shouldn't have been her burden to bear, Maya fate doomed her to wear the chains of eternity.

 _Morgan sure ensured that was the case,_ she acknowledged grimly. _Even though she's not here, the damage she'd done sure is. The die is cast. Misty Fey's fated turnabout has now become my cross to bear._

And there wasn't a damn thing in the world she could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mariah Carey & Whitney Houston – When You Believe


	27. Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In life, things change & people change. It doesn't mean you forget the past or try to cover it up- it just means accepting that some things were never meant to be. You do not give up because you're weak, you give up because you are strong enough to let go.

_**Maya Fey**_ _  
Fey Manor_ _  
_September 5, 2020, 5:30 AM

As Maya was only now finding out, as soon as the disgraced Misty had gone, her duplicitous sister had assembled the Kurain Elder Council, composed of similar-minded old cronies who shared her warped vision and maneuvered the power structures into amendments taking decisive influence away from the Master and into the hands of the boards of Elders across the country, hastily rubber-stamping them 'on behalf of' the Master in her absence, citing this as temporary emergency means of action, mere damage control, until the day Misty returned. Amid such pandemonium, everyone had believed her. By the time it was entirely clear Misty was never coming back, the new order was already conclusively embedded. The elders' hostility, too, was mostly built on lies, inflated out of proportion. Maya tried to assure herself that she was the one in charge, and they knew it, so the things they thought and said shouldn't have mattered, and that they were just trying to intimidate her.

However, that was easier said than done.

The hostile elder council made little to no attempt to hide their disdain to the new Master.

"We don't respect you. You have yet to prove yourself to us. All we have to base our judgement on is your past 'questionable' associations and 'crimes'. You will always carry the lingering stigma of your disgraced mother until you lead us to believe you're different than her – that you won't be like her. What's more, the stigma of Misty and her disgrace still lingers on you. Are you going to throw in the towel and abdicate as she did? Become swayed by outside influence? If you can't fulfill your duties sufficiently, you'd be doing us all a better favor to just slither away and drop dead!"

Words like these were tougher to dismiss. Even the strongest of wills could become battered and near broken to hear such cruelties hurled at them like rocks. By continuously bringing up her mother, they knew exactly how to hit her where it hurt most.

_What's the point of being the leader of Kurain when all I do is train and get told what to do?! It's ridiculous!_ **_I'm_ ** _supposed to be the leader, right?_ **_They_ ** _should do what_ **_I_ ** _say! After I was nearly killed over this stupid position it's the least they could do. And right after I lost and barely had any time to mourn over my mother…_

Misty, Misty, Misty. Ultimately, it always came to Misty Fey. The plaguing aura that would never go away. The whole issue of the deceased Misty Fey to deal with on top of everything else.

Maya didn't blame her mother for abandoning her. Her mother apparently thought she was doing the best thing for her daughters; not transferring the mantle of shame and dishonor down as an inheritance. Though, in reality, Aunt Morgan had never really allowed Maya to forget it, and in Misty's absenteeism, she'd wielded significant influence, as the Master's sister, even with her lack of spiritual powers.

Her thoughts had frequently drifted to her mother. She'd never known her, she'd always been a distant and almost mythical figure in her mind. Mia had already decided quite early on to submit the Master position to Maya by default. Maya wished she'd been old enough to understand what that accountability had truly entailed. If she had, if Mia had ever properly discussed the decision with her, has she known all the bullshit the position entailed, she would have told her sister she didn't want it. Let Pearl have the role!

But Mia hadn't, and so Maya could barely recall a period of her life when she had not had Kurain Master as her inherent future, mapped out for her, to take over from her mother. It wasn't right for Maya, as second-born, to have been faced with this tremendous responsibility. There wasn't a day that went by when she didn't feel absolutely miserable about the fact that Mia was really the one who had deserved the leader role, instead of centering her life on her dedicated mission to expose those who destroyed Misty. It was Mia who should have been able to succeed in her quest, and then claim her rightful place as Master.

In terms of administrative affairs, however, that burden had passed to Maya as soon as Misty Fey's soul departed.

Her mother was a confusing figurehead; at once an impossibly legendary ideal to emulate while simultaneously being an ultimately fallible, vulnerable example of what _not_ to become; disgraced and still ostracized by many in Kurain for her shameful 'betrayal' of her duty and responsibility after her destroyed reputation and subsequent breakdown.

Maya was torn between being feelings of outraged dignity by her poor mother's name still being besmirched posthumously, and being terrified that there was some actual underlying truth in the slandering… would she too, fall victim to these same types of devastating weaknesses, which kept being brought up repeatedly to uncompromising light?

Her mother had died effectively so that she, Maya, should take over the Kurain Master position.

Maya couldn't repress a creeping sense of guilt. Her mother, though obviously dedicated to her daughter's succession, had never really known her. Would her mother have sacrificed herself if she knew the truth about her daughter? That she actually agreed that while Morgan's attempting to kill her had been an extreme action to resort to in achieving her lofty goal, Maya actually didn't _disagree_ with her aunt's notion that Pearl _should_ inherit the Master title, as the child's spiritual powers and dedication were exponentially superior to her own? Would Misty have been horrified to learn that as far as Maya's goals and aspirations went in life, the only one she was actually clear on wanting to achieve was acquiring just enough spirit medium power to become a fully independent adult, who could then absent Kurain without restraint or re-requisition so she could be with Nick uncompromised?

* * *

**_I can't live, if living is without you._ **

* * *

Nick, who had issues he knew he still wasn't fully divulging to her. Nick, who she yearned to help more than anything in the world if only he would let her…

Maya couldn't remember a time in her life when she hadn't been so seized with futile frustration and helplessness. She wished she could help Phoenix, but could not comprehend how. Maybe she was actually becoming a pain in his ass by constantly begging to visit with him. Perhaps laying low and not bothering him for a bit until he sorted himself out would be for the best.

* * *

**_I can't give. I can't give anymore._ **

* * *

But how could she forget about Phoenix, _today_ of all the days? Maya shut her eyes against the hot flood of tears stinging behind them. September 5. The most bittersweet day of her existence. The day life had taken her beloved sister from her forever, and simultaneously presented her the man who she would grow to love till her own dying day.

Phoenix … he was her pillar of strength. He'd always believed in her, believed she could handle this Master position. For him, for _Pearly_ , she had to find the vigor and gumption to carry on, in spite of all the obstacles, the misery. It was the least she could do.

So many people had sacrificed themselves so she could become Kurain Master – her mother, Mia, Diego… she would just have to attempt to her utmost to dedicate herself to the Kurain Master position with fervor, to heighten her powers, and to somehow attempt to become the daughter her mother had obviously envisioned she was saving. She needed to become a Master worthy of such sacrifice, one Misty would have been proud of. She needed to make a _Kurain_ her mother could be proud of.

_I will not let them break me,_ Maya vowed. _I will let them change who I am. And I sure as hell won't let them change Nick, or Pearly, or anyone else! I refuse to let them tear down my Nick just because he chose a profession they don't like, or my mother because she was sold out!_

Maya knew she had to prove herself, and for the past nine months, at the unwitting near-expense of her own health, she'd been striving to show her worthiness by throwing herself headfirst into her training. Pearl was there to cheer her on, even assist in some areas and offer guidance in some areas where the new Master was lacking. It was a shame that the age of 8, her cousin had been able to power Nick's magatama for him, whereas Maya herself as of late, had been unable to even channel Mia, despite her strenuous efforts, never mind her mother, who seemed content to remain as obscure from her daughter in the afterlife as she had when she'd been alive.

It was a depressing realization to know that she was truly alone – and despite knowing she was being silly – if she channeled them, she couldn't talk to them anyway! – Maya couldn't help but feel abandoned and vulnerable. Was her mother still afraid to face her, even now? Was Mia so disgusted with her lack of prowess as Master that she'd decided to wash her hands of her little sister completely, henceforth?

These desertion issues must have been taking their toll on her psyche, and manifesting themselves into her dreams. They plagued her at night, causing her insufferable insomnia, because the alternative, sleep, was too terrifying. For the past month or so, Maya had been having night visions so harrowing that if Hollywood had been able to stick a projection screen into her brain and made a movie out of it, they would have had the biggest blockbuster horror film since _The Excorcist._

She felt inexcusably guilty for worrying Pearl, who'd taken to sleeping with her lately because of the alarming frequency and intensity of the night terrors. Maya had been unable to suppress herself from waking screaming from one of her nightmares – really just a mental replay of witnessing her mother dying as she was stabbed, often superimposed with the moment of Mia's death and that haunted, dead look in Phoenix's eyes after he'd been disbarred. Perturbingly, they were recurring with increasing frequency and disrupting her sleeping patterns, a matter she was unable to obscure from Pearl, who seemed generally concerned with her. Just yesterday, she had been roused from her nightmare, drenched in sweat from the terror of her dreams, and shot up in the bed, looking frantic and wild-eyed at her cousin. Pearl's huge Bambi eyes were wide with apprehension.

"Are you okay, Mystic Maya? Your alarm clock just went off, but it's only 5:00 in the morning. You just got to bed a couple of hours ago? Are you sure you shouldn't rest instead of doing more training? You look pale."

"I'm okay, Pearly, please don't worry," Maya had assured her, despite the protesting ache of her overwrought body. But giving it the further slumber it so desperately craved simply wasn't an option. She _had_ to train or die trying.

She'd recently re-tried – and failed – her magatama-charging benchmark test. She'd ignored the fact that her head pounded, her jaw tightened as if it had dislocated, and that it was sometimes difficult to perform tasks that involved recalling many steps. There were infinite tasks to perform – that channeling for the foreign ambassador, the monthly meeting with the region's Kurain Elders, the Ultra Course she'd booked for the next morning… obviously, she just required further training to stay focused.

Rising her exhausted body out of bed, she'd half walked, half dragged herself to the Kurain Master's Library, a collection of thousands upon thousands of ancient books and manuscripts covering numerous centuries of secret esoteric knowledge. She planned on consulting some of the scriptures before she headed over to Hazakura Temple the next morning for that Special Training Course.

And since she'd been meditating obsessively for most of the last _month_ , her powers should be heightened.

_Should_ have been. But they weren't. Where had she gone wrong? Was it because she was so damn tired all the time? The average two hours of sleep got per night after getting off her late-night phone calls with Nick probably weren't helping her weakened state.

Maya read and re-read the almost incomprehensibly archaic instructions with intensity. She locked herself in the Master's Wing of rooms and attempted to focus her powers to accomplish the task described. She concentrated her powers till she felt queasy and nauseous, until she radiated with pain, until she literally collapsed to the ground, limp and shaking. Her vision blurred, she gasped for breath, and she was on the verge of unconsciousness.

_There are six lines to the Sacred Writings. Cleanse thy soul... Open the door to the spiritual realm beyond... Converse with the departed... ...Cast on thyself Protection... Maintain the spell... Release the spell..._

All to no avail. Her powers simply had not reached an effective threshold to affect her Magatama in any way, shape or form. She had failed. She _was_ a failure.

Disgusted with herself, as soon as she was able, Maya crawled back to the Library. There was an entire shelf of many hundreds of torturous and brutal masochistic training endeavors that she was supposed to perfect as Master. Maya resolved to complete every one of these in succession. When she'd finished, she'd repeat them again. Maybe then her powers might heighten to an acceptable level for the type of person her mother had wanted to save.

Well, she'd begin with that one- except she'd commit herself to the Advanced Level, of course – and then she'd busy herself with all the other torturous rituals outlined in the books here. Whenever she wasn't taking channeling clients, Maya amassed her schedule with constant training ordeals.

These past nine months were starting to take their toll on her, mentally _and_ emotionally, but still, she pressed onward with little thought to her diminishing physical state as well.

She'd stacked her schedule with tasks at odd hours to distract herself from the reality she couldn't sleep, was gripped with insomnia and fraught with repeating nightmares fracturing when she did doze off. It gave the illusion of control that she took several short naps of an hour or two by choice to balance out the lack of sleep she got at night.

_"All Masters must be able to endure such rites and I have not seen much evidence of your training."_

Mildred's obnoxious taunt from the other day came floating back to her mind now.

Her new title of Kurain Master immediately brought a succession of high-profile clients – government officials, international diplomats, celebrities… and in her first critical job she had almost failed, her powers seemingly too inferior to capture the required spirit. Maya had been beyond mortified and didn't know what had been the worse to endure – the knowing smirk on Mildred's smug face, or the one of saddened dismay on Pearl's.

She was the _Master_ , Goddammit! She could _do_ this! All it required was just a little more intense training and just a little more time.

So train she did. Rigorous, grueling, punishing training, which would have brought even the mightiest men to their knees nine days in. She _would_ prevail – even if it killed her!

* * *

_**Maya Fey  
**_ _Hazakura Temple_ _,_ _Sacred Cavern_  
September 5, 2020, 6:30 AM

Maya was barely mindful of the howling winds that rustled Dusky Bridge as she crossed it en route to the inner temple and the gate leading back to the garden. She smiled wanly at the jovial Sister Bikini as she greeted her at the temple doors, then followed the tiny, hunched-over shrine maiden to the Sacred Cavern. Maya took a deep breath to calm her nerves and moved further down into the belly of the mountain. This would be the final step of her Master training. If she could endure this after all the rituals she'd gone through for the past year prior to, she was golden.

All Maya's excess training produced positive feedback of heightened spiritual power for some time, but then the results plateaued, and, by the time she was reaching the last book and planning to repeat from the first, her powers appeared to be dwindling. In fact, repeating the exercises seemed more difficult than they had the first time around. She was obviously too weak and pathetic, she castigated herself. Somehow, she had to increase her inner strength and mental toughness and stop acting like a wimp. Most likely, Pearl had mastered all these by the time she had learned to walk.

Preceding the final Special Course, her training had consisted of torturous meditations lasting for 4 days, continuous spiritual fasts lasting 5 days at a time, endless freezing in ice and water, flagellation under spiritual stones, power-honing exercises which only ended when the medium collapsed… Kurain was filled with desolate mountains, secluded dingy caves, freezing waterfalls, and jagged boulders, and Maya frequented them all, far more than she did Fey Manor.

She fasted so often she ceased to even notice when she was hungry, and frequently simply forgot to eat even when she was not engaged in training. Somehow, despite losing over ten pounds off her already tiny frame, Maya had managed to persevere for nearly a year. She also booked herself into constant repeats of the Ultra Course at Hazakurain – preludes to prepare her for the final Special Course – to the point where even Bikini was confused and hesitant. However, it was excellent for business, and she didn't like to question the Master, even though apprehension was etched on the elderly, rotund nun's kindly visage when she saw how drained and gaunt Maya's formerly glowing, youthful face now was.

"So this is it?" Maya forced a smile at Sister Bikini as she grabbed a burlap sack to sit on under the waterfall. "The end of the line?"

"The final frontier!" Sister Bikini gave one of her loud, booming laughs, even though there was no humorous tone to the conversation – Maya surmised it was how the petite nun kept herself warm in these frosty mountains. "If you can get through _this_ one, Master Maya, you can get through _anything_! Ho, ho, ho!"

"Yeah, finally, I get to complete what you came here for the first time." _It only took me a year and a half to do this damn course! I would have_ _done it_ ** _sooner_** _, but things kept getting in the way. Witnessing harrowing homicides, nearly being murdered…being possessed by the demonic, homicidal ex-girlfriend of my current boyfriend who was the one who tried to kill me in the first place…_

A huge cube of ice with a magatama etched in the side slipped out and icy mists billowed off it. With a gentle push, Maya slid it under the waterfall, shivering at the sight of the pounding waters under which she would be spending hours beneath.

Sister Bikini gave the room one final cursory inspection, ensuring all the holy artifacts were in place. Satisfied that everything required for the sacred ritual was present and accounted for, she bowed to Maya and made her way out of the room.

"Free your mind of all worries, Master Maya. I'll be watching over you the whole time and will be in with hot tea the minute you're finished your incantations! All 100,000 of them! Ho, ho, ho!"

Maya smiled faintly and thanked the nun, then turned to face her frigid seat. She took in a deep breath and tried concentrating on the words to her mantras. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath and ducked under the freezing waters. She hissed, barely able to keep from crying out. Her first few minutes were spent shivering and taking shallow, stilted breaths through clenched teeth. No matter how many waterfalls she sat beneath, starting out was always the worst part. Finally, blissful numbness set in, and she commenced her chanting. Her long, sleek hair was soaked and stuck to her. Her extremities were anesthetized and she could not even feel her face.

However, her _mind_ was the one thing that could not become frozen or devoid of thought or sensation. All she could do was think while the icy water crashed down over her.

Think and remember.

She mentally replayed the final words of her last conversation with Phoenix. How she'd asked him to come and visit there, since he refused to let her come down, but he'd muttered something about letting the other Kurain officials cool down for a while over him, that it hadn't even been a year since the ban on him had sprung. She didn't argue with him. They both knew it was an empty proposal. Of course, Maya wanted Phoenix to live with her… but the open hostility of some of the Kurain power-brokers would make life unpleasant for both of them, and there was nothing for him or Trucy in Kurain.

Hell, Maya wished she could escape herself, and she was _Master_ of the place!

"Promise me you'll let me know when I can come and visit, Nick." It was a plea, not merely an offer.

"I will, my love…as soon as I know it's safe…" Phoenix trailed off, unsure of what else to say. "I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, Maya. I love you."

"I love you back," she whispered. After hanging up the phone, she remained sitting there, staring at her cell, her mind whirling.

_He's going to keep on investigating this Gavin character, not even caring about the potential danger that might be involved._ The idea of anything happening to Phoenix made her stomach churn. _I should be going with him. If only I went with him._

But she was out of excuses to stay out of Kurain. The excuse of 'General Manager of ex Fey and Co.' was no longer applicable, either to the Elders or to Nick.

* * *

**_No, I can't forget tomorrow. When I think of all my sorrow. When I had you there, but then I let you go._ **

* * *

It was upsetting that it tuned out as an adult you actually had no – maybe less – freedoms and control over your own life, with all those 'duties' and 'responsibilities' thrust on you, than you did when you were younger. Maya had less autonomy over her own life now as a grown woman than she'd had a teenager! And worse, as Master, it was difficult to validate coherent reasoning for long-term absence from Kurain, without her former excuse of that pre-existing legal position. It was futile. Wright and Co. Law Offices was over. Maya could sense by the dead look in Nick's eyes that it would be a long time, probably eternity before it reopened. Something had broken in him, she could tell. Those sad eyes. And why wasn't she still with him, to try to make things better when he needed her most? Because she was out of justifications.

* * *

**_And now it's only fair that I should let you know. What you should know._ **

* * *

And whatever _his_ reasons were, Mildred was right about one thing. Phoenix hadn't exactly been knocking himself out coming up with plausible pretexts to see _her_ , either. Maybe being apart wasn't as gut-wrenching for him as it was for her. Maybe a part of him wasn't dead inside because she wasn't there to fill the void.

* * *

**_I can't live. If living is without you._ **

* * *

Maya set herself to a Master-level spiritual training ordeal, willing the flagellation of the waterfall's icy daggers to numb her into oblivion.

* * *

_**Sister Bikini  
**_ _Hazakura Temple_ _,_ _Sacred Cavern_  
September 5, 2020, 8:30 AM

Sometime later, Sister Bikini, who had become accustomed to the familiar ritual, cheerfully returned to check on her customer.

"Ho, ho, I trust you completed all 100, 000 incantations, Master Maya?" The nun questioned cheerfully as she unlocked the physical Psyche-Lock on the cavern of the Ultra Course.

Sister Bikini peered in, letting her eyes adjust to the frosty mist. She was shocked to see the form of Maya Fey lying face-down in the pool of freezing melted spiritual ice. It wouldn't have been the first time the good sister had seen someone fall into deep slumber under the numbing effect of the waterfall, although the Master was usually much more energized and renewed afterward, _never_ sleepy. She wondered if the young woman had managed to finish her chanting.

"Are we taking a little nap? Ho, ho, ho!" Laughed the sunny nun. "Oh well, you've completed this so many times at 30,000 chants before and you looked completely ragged, so I guess you would be exhausted. Don't worry Sleeping Beauty, this will be our little secret just this once, ho, ho, ho!"

Maya didn't reply. Sister Bikini strode closer.

"Master Maya?" She gently nudged Maya with her foot. Something in the un-natural flopping motion of Maya's body alerted her attention. She rolled Maya over and gasped.

The Master was immensely pale, and parts of her had taken on a blueish tinge. She was devoid of the rise and fall of breathing, or any breathing motion at all.

Sister Bikini felt a rising panic coursing through her veins.

"Master Maya!" She cried. In desperation, she flung her ear to Maya's chest, detecting a heartbeat so shallow and erratic that she feared it only existed in her imagination.

Thankfully the nun had been trained in CPR, which she was forced to perform for the entirety of duration until the ambulance arrived. How she wished Iris was still here to help at times like these! Maya's condition seemed acutely injurious. She could only pray all those machines could effectively revive her.

Only when Maya had been safely loaded into the ambulance, did Sister Bikini, with trembling fingers, begin to dial the number for Mystic Pearl in Kurain Village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mariah Carey - Without You


	28. Something Happened On The Way To Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had a life, we had a love  
> But you don't know what you've got 'til you lose it  
> Well that was then and this is now  
> And I want you back  
> How many times do I have to say I'm sorry, yes I'm sorry
> 
> How can something so good go so bad  
> How can something so right go so wrong  
> I don't know, I don't have all the answers  
> But I want you back  
> How many times can I say I'm sorry
> 
> You know, you can run, and you can hide  
> But I'm now leaving 'less you come with me  
> We've had our problems but I'm on your side  
> You're all I need, please believe in me, oh yeah
> 
> I only wanted someone to love  
> But something happened on the way to heaven  
> It got a hold of me and wouldn't let go  
> And I want you back  
> How many times do I have to say I'm sorry, yes, I'm sorry
> 
> You know, you can run, and you can hide  
> But I'm not leaving less you come with me  
> We've had our problems but I'm on your side  
> You're all I need, please believe me
> 
> You know, you can run, and you can hide  
> But I'm not leaving till it's all over  
> We've had our problems but I'm on your side  
> You're all I need, let me show you  
> They say you can't take it with you when you go  
> And I believe it  
> But taking what I've got or being here with you  
> You know I, I'd rather leave it
> 
> We had a life, we had a love  
> But you don't know what you've got 'til you lose it  
> Well that was then and this is now  
> And I want you back  
> How many times do I have to say I'm sorry, yes I'm sorry  
> You know you can run, and you can hide  
> But I'm not leaving less you come with me  
> We've had our problems but I'm on your side  
> You're all I need, please believe in me
> 
> You can run, and you can hide  
> But I'm not leaving until it's all over  
> We've had our problems but I'm on your side  
> You're all I need, please believe in me

**_Phoenix Wright  
_** _Wright Anything Agency  
_ September 5, 2020, 11:00 AM

Phoenix was jolted awake from his mid-morning nap by an unexpected pounding in his heart and ringing in his ears. After getting breakfast for Trucy and seeing her off to the school bus stop, he'd fallen back to sleep as he didn't work again until later that evening, and it had been a rough night. He'd barely slept a wink, as he'd been inexplicably plagued by horrifying nightmares, all involving malevolent, vengeful people, some dead, some alive, some incarcerated.

Every night, on the eve of this date, he had nightmares. And every September 5, all he could do was think. Sit, think, and remember.

The bittersweet day he'd mentally dubbed as _Phoenix and Maya Day._

It was inescapable to forget the fact that on this date, exactly four years ago, the devil, in the form of the diabolical Redd White, had taken his beloved mentor Mia Fey away from him. And then, within that exact moment, on that same fateful day, he'd met Maya Fey. The woman who would later become the love of his life.

The very inauspicious woman who, because of their mind-boggling incompetence, the LAPD kept repeatedly trying to take away from him! The same day he'd met Maya, she'd then after became his _second-ever_ murder defendant. Little did either know it would _not_ _be for the first time_ in the years to come!

As much as the knowledge of this date was torture for _him_ , he knew it was a hundred times worse for Maya, who'd not only been just a teenager at the time but had stood accused of the horrific crime of murdering the only remaining family she'd had – _after_ having had the misfortune of being _the first to discover the body!_

More than anything in the world, Phoenix wished he could be by Maya's side right now, to hold and comfort her on this most dreadful anniversary, made all the more bittersweet as it also marked the day they had first met.

Normally he'd have sought out Maya's company so he could see her, touch her, hear her, to make sure that she was indeed alive and well. But of course, his Kristoph suspicions aside, now that he'd been made so excruciatingly aware just to what degree of contemptuous loathing the Elders of Kurain felt for him, giving that reassurance in person was impossible.

Maya was probably too busy, anyway. Most of the time when he did ring, she was off on some arduous training ordeal. The Kurain Master position must be incredibly difficult and time-consuming. He shouldn't inconvenience her with his comparably trite quandaries.

The perimeters of this _latest_ separation were inarguably and mostly _his_ fault. Therefore he'd long since assented that seeing his swain was out of the question. Phoenix had to concede that on top of his genuine concern about how negatively her Master position was impacted by his presence, his _pride_ had also taken a severe beating nine months ago when he'd seen her last. Coupling that with his suspected stalker's antics since his disbarment, there was only _so much_ one man could possibly endure!

Nonetheless, that didn't mean he couldn't _call_ her, right? There would be nobody around to hear him. Maya had mentioned she had vigorous training to undergo during the daytime today when they'd last spoken, so even if he couldn't reach her by phone, he could simply shoot her a quick email.

How to begin either one was the question. A simple _"Hi babe, just wanted to ensure that you're still alive"_ didn't sound quite right, especially coming from _him_ of people. In the context would possibly come across as one that was more filled with unsolicited sarcasm rather than solicitude. The last thing he wanted to was for his partner to think he was being hypocritical about their lack of communication, considering Phoenix _himself_ had vanished underground like a mole a year and a half ago, making Maya question both his whereabouts _and_ continued existence for over a fortnight!

Moreover, his concern would seem completely over-the-top, not to mention _insane_ , since he'd spoken to her only _last night!_

Phoenix wasn't sure if he was simply being paranoid because of the date it was, or if something genuinely was off course with Maya. Either way, he knew that he was struck with a resounding, inexplicable need to hear her dulcet voice. He needed to be reassured of her well-being if he was going to have his heartbeat and pulse return to a steady pace anytime soon! Both were inexplicably racing and _not_ in a good way, like when Maya was in his arms and they were wrapped together in a heated lip lock.

And even during those more heated, stirring of the senses stolen moments, it still didn't account for the current irksome _ringing in his ears!_

**BRRRING! BRRRING!**

That was when he realized that the shrill sound that he was hearing was _not_ within his eardrums at all but coming from the _telephone!_

_Who the heck would still ring my old office landline? Why wouldn't they just call my cell?_

As he reached for the receiver, he glanced down at this mobile screen and saw several missed calls! Phoenix cursed himself for his careless actions, realizing the familiar taiko drums of the _Steel Samurai_ ringtone hadn't awoken him because he'd accidentally put his phone into silent mode before passing out last night!

It was Pearl. He was surprised but pleased to hear from her; yet at the same time, he couldn't help the incomprehensible feelings of trepidation as he answered.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Nick?" She sniffled when he answered.

"Hi, Pearls." Phoenix spoke warmly to the little girl he'd always adored. "How are you?"

"I'm not doing so good, Mr. Nick –"

"What's wrong, Pearls?" He anxiously cut in. "Are you sick? Did something bad happen?"

"It – it's Mystic Maya, Mr. Nick!" Pearl wailed hysterically. "She's in the hospital!"

 _"Hospital?!"_ Phoenix's pulsating heart lurched into his throat. "Is she all right?"

"I – I don't know…" The child sounded as if she were near tears. "I'm so scared!"

"What in the world?" The poker champ had been standing up when he'd taken the call but promptly fell back onto the bed in shock upon hearing the news. "W –What happened?"

"She was doing that Extra Special Course at Hazakura Temple and she…collapsed. Sister Bikini had to do CPR on her until the ambulance came." Pearl's voice broke as she began to cry. "They – they don't know if she'll be OK or not! Mr. Nick, she's the only family I have left now…"

The world screeched to a sudden halt for Phoenix at that moment. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. His head pounded. His vision began to waver.

"W – Where is she? I'm coming right now!" Shakily he scrawled down the address of the hospital and rushed out the door.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright  
_** _Hickfield Clinic  
_ September 5, 2020, 11:35 AM

Palms drenched in a cold sweat, Phoenix spotted the spirit medium at their meeting place in the hospital entrance. Pearl wrapped her arms around him in a huge hug, her little face drenched in tears. After a few moments of him attempting to soothe the distraught child, she handed him the number of Maya's room in the ICU.

"She can only have one visitor at a time, so I'll be in the lounge down the hall for you." She slumped down against the wall, a tiny, doleful figure. Phoenix gave her one more hug before she slowly shuffled towards the waiting area, her head down. He watched her despondently for another moment before heading towards Maya's room.

"M…Maya?" He called hesitantly as he neared the doorway. "It's me, Nick…"

A burly nurse with rolling pin arms and a too-tight perm sprang out to obstruct his view.

"I'm sorry, sir, the patient is in a critical condition and only immediate family members are allowed visitation."

"But I _am_ a relative to the patient! I'm Miss Fey's … uh… _cousin_!" Phoenix improvised hastily _._ "Her _first_ cousin, actually!"

_Suffering Saint Sebastian on the sousaphone in a short screenplay by Susan Sarandon! I just can't seem to get a break from bluffing, even when I'm off the damn clock!_

The nurse scrutinized his panicked, desperate expression with knowing sympathy. She knew he was lying. She saw it all the time. But there was something about this particular individual, something she saw in his eyes, which made her balk at refusing him admission. It was the look of genuine, nervous terror reflected in the dark blue depths. A despaired, pleading look that a man could only have when then the woman he loved was in terrible danger. Ultimately, she just couldn't make herself refute it at that moment.

With a sigh of acquiescence, the nurse nodded, feigning acceptance of his explanation, and stepped aside.

Phoenix rushed into the room but then froze in his tracks as his alarmed gaze took in the harrowing scene before him.

An imposing array of unidentifiable, scary-looking machines surrounded the psychic, creating a cacophony of varying beeps and sounds along with flashing numbers he had no comprehensible way of understanding. Various tubes were attached to Maya's body, and the sole machine he recognized was the IV tube running into her slim, pale arm, which he knew was giving her life-sustaining nutrients. Maya herself was as limp and white as the sheets on her bed, looking more Lilliputian and fragile than he could have envisioned his normally bubbly, vibrant girlfriend ever to be.

Gingerly, he took her icy hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Maya?"

"I don't think she can hear you," the nurse called from the doorway. "She's been unconscious ever since she came here."

_No! I've heard that people in a coma can still hear you sometimes, and hearing is often the last thing to go! There is **no way** I'm taking the chance of not letting her know I'm here by her side, which I never should have left in the first place!_

Phoenix pointedly ignored the nurse, his attentions solely fixed on the woman lying before him.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered, uncaring if the medic overheard and busted him for the earlier lie about being a _kissing cousin_. "Forgive me for not letting you come down to see me a long time ago."

He softly pressed a kiss to her forehead, which sported a small, bruised bump.

"But I'm here now and I'm not leaving your side again until you come back to me, do you hear me?"

After several minutes of the hobo clinging to the diviner's unresponsive hand, murmuring loving adages and gazing hopelessly at her, the nurse interjected.

"I'm sorry but the doctor's coming soon. You'll have to leave, for now, sir."

 _"No!"_ Phoenix cried elegiacally. "I can't leave yet! I _just_ got here – she can't be left alone right now!  
M – Maya _needs_ me…"

He was teetering on the brink of hysteria.

"OK, fine then." The nurse gave a reluctant sigh. "I'll let you stay until the doctor gets here."

The ex-lawyer pounced on the doctor like a ravenous lion the minute he set eyes on him. He ran right up to the physician, his eyes wild and frantic.

"Doctor, please tell me if my Maya will be all right? What happened to her? Is she going to get better? When will she wake up?"

The MD calmly extracted his white lab coat sleeves from the pianist's frantic, vice-like grip before he calmly replied to the barrage of questions.

"Miss Fey has come down with a minor case of hypothermia, which was easy enough to take care of. However, she's also contracted pneumonia and appears to be extremely malnourished, the former which we're treating first and foremost."

 _His_ Maya, the gluttonous burger-loving queen… _malnourished?_ Inconceivable! Phoenix shook his head, still unable to process such _Twilight Zone_ information.

"And her survival odds overall?"

"It's hard to say," the doctor told him. "She's young and strong, and does appear to be stabilizing, so prospects for survival are good."

Phoenix felt a small glimmer of hope flicker within him at these encouraging words.

"However, I can't predict if or when she will fully recover."

The hope withered and died, replaced by a wave of nearly overwhelming nausea washing over him. He couldn't muster a response.

"She's is lucky to be alive against all these odds," marveled the doctor. "It's unfathomable how she managed to survive under such extreme circumstances. The nun who found her was truly Miss Fey's guardian angel for having administered CPR so quickly. She may not still be with us otherwise."

 _Sister Bikini._ Phoenix solemnly vowed to go volunteer his assisted services at the temple at some near point in the future to express his gratitude for the shrine maiden who had saved Maya's life.

"I must ask you to wait outside now, sir," the doctor continued, his voice polite but firm. "I need to tend to our patient now. You're welcome to return when the nurses change rotation after lunch, in about an hour."

Before he could open his mouth to protest again, the nurse came in dragged the morose pianist out of the room. Shaky and stunned, he traipsed back to the waiting Pearl, heavy of both mind and heart.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey**  
_ _Hickfield Clinic, Visitors Lounge_  
September 5, 2020 11:50 AM

It was a small lounge where the child sat, void of any other visitors, with only three chairs on each side of the room, along with a coffee dispenser and snack food vending machine. The spirit medium sat in her chair, knees tucked to the chin, looking almost frailer and more helpless than Maya had. As impossible as it seemed, his heart ached even _more_ at the sight of her dejected form. Maya was more of a sister to her than a mere cousin and since her mother had been incarcerated, she also was Pearl's legal guardian and each was the only family the other had. The little girl was the only person in the world who loved and _needed_ Maya as much as Phoenix did, if not more so.

She lifted her head when he entered the room, her doe eyes red-rimmed and teary.

"Did she wake up yet, Mr. Nick?"

He shook his head and sank in the chair next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"The doctor said her chances of survival are good, Pearls. He just doesn't know when she'll wake up."

Pearl's lower lip trembled, and Phoenix was worried about what he'd do if she started crying again – he was barely keeping it together _himself!_ He decided to try to divert her anguish, however momentarily, with some conversation.

"Talk to me, Pearls," he urged gently. "I need to know what happened. You said Maya was training at Hazakura Temple? I recall how she and I did that Ultra course together with Sister Bikini shortly after the whole Dahlia incident. At the time, I was barely over the cold I'd caught falling into that raging river but _I_ still managed to survive sitting under that freezing waterfall with her – whereas _Maya_ was completely unfazed by it all! What was it _this_ time around that affected her so badly? Surely she's done some sort of similar training like this since?"

"Yes, she has," Pearl sniffled. "But the Special Course is 100, 000 incantations under that waterfall versus 30,000 of the Ultra … and there's much stricter preparation involved. I think Mystic Maya has been doing too much training. She's done nothing else since that last time you came up to the village. I've tried to talk to her about how she's been pushing herself too hard and making herself sick. But she wouldn't listen! So, when she left for Hazakura Temple this morning, I was so worried about her that I went and borrowed some of the books she was reading. I believe she has been doing these training exercises."

Completing the Ultra Course had been one giant, eye-opening boot to the head for the anterior attorney, bequeathing him with blatant new cognizance and respect of the massive amount of inner strength Maya must possess in that petite frame of hers. _He_ would have run screaming from the cavern after five minutes if the spirit medium hadn't been supportively holding his hand. It'd been almost emasculating for him how easy in comparison it'd been for Maya.

Then again, Phoenix's strong, brave girl had endured a lifetime of these tortures and God only knew what else. Whatever had eventually lambasted her must have been more than just a mere training regimen.

They poured over the thick book Pearl had brought. The archaic Japanese was impossible for him to decipher and difficult for the child but the recent incident had been more than enough motivation to compel the little girl to work on her reading skills. With a concerned frown, she summarized aloud a recent trial Maya had performed, entailing four-day starvation, then being crushed under a spiritual boulder atop a freezing mountaintop, in tandem with some power-honing exercise that belied any sense to Phoenix.

"But _why_?" He demanded, burying his head in his hands. " _Why_ would she do this to herself, Pearls? Is it _really_ such a prerequisite?" The pint-sized spirit medium eyed at him quizzically and he hastily simplified the last word. " _Necessary_?"

"I think she's been feeling the need to prove herself to the Elders. They've been so mean to her!"

Pearl went on to give him a brief synopsis of the verbal taunts, lashings and emotional abuse they'd succumbed Maya to since she'd assumed the Master role.

Phoenix just listened in agonized silence, his head still buried in his hands, heartsick at how much torment the woman he loved had endured in his absence. His composure was beginning to unravel. He could feel it. He was about to lose his shit right there in the hospital waiting room right before an equally devastated 10-year-old girl who desperately needed his strength and support, rather than his tears, more than anything in the world right then.

And he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold out.

In a vast effort to keep a reign on his tumultuous emotions, he bit his lower lip, so hard that he thought he tasted blood and nodded his head as Pearl went on, silently prodding her to continue.

"That mean old witch Mystic Mildred has been the worst!" Pearl concluded, her gray eyes flashing with anger. "She's the main reason all the elders never listen to Mystic Maya and always say bad things about Aunt Misty."

She bit her thumb and looked down as she continued.

"I believe _that's_ the main reason Mystic Maya feels she is expected to heighten her powers," the moppet recalled, thinking back to her cousin's blabbering during one of her recent dreams. "I think she does not wish to fail her mother."

"Oh, dear God!" Phoenix yearned to collapse to the ground, so deep was his sorrowful penitence. "My poor Maya!"

Deep down, he'd always deduced that his lover wasn't truly dealing with the whole issue of her mother's death as well as she outwardly claimed to be. As her best friend, as her _damn boyfriend_ , he should have found a way to better assist and support her, despite her claims that she was fine. But he'd always been afraid to press the issue, of what may have become unleashed if opted to not let that sleeping dog lie.

_Sometimes it takes you losing something you rely on in order to learn the good of what you really had._

Then, after he was disbarred, he'd been too self-absorbed by his battered ego and _his_ issues thence hadn't paid enough mind to Maya's plight whatsoever. Had never paid heed to that beatific smile that masked so much pain.

 _I truly am the most selfish sonofabitch on earth_ , Phoenix berated himself bitterly. _All Maya's ever done is stand by me and hide her own problems and focus all her attention on mine and all she ever asked for in return was just to **see** me. Just a visit. But noooo, I was too wrapped up in my stupid, possibly needless, paranoia to even give her **that!** And now it may be too late! Christ, what if I lose her? I couldn't live without her! She's my pillar of strength. She's my hero. How will I ever continue to go on if Maya dies?_

He felt Pearl's eyes on his hunched frame and lifted his head from his hands, noting her doll-like visage was no longer etched in sorrow but concern. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Nick, are you going to be all right?"

 _Lord help me,_ _I'm the most pitiful, pathetic excuse of a man that ever existed. **Another** daughter of mine, trying to console my sorry, self-pitying ass in a time of desolateness, when it should damn well be the other way around!_

This was the _second_ time now that a young child burdened with strife even worse than his had own had needed to be the adult and attempted to comfort _him!_ It was a travesty beyond measure; _they_ were the ones who needed it most. It was that incident in the kitchen last year with Trucy all over again, even down to the same silky brown hair.

Except, he thought, as he looked up, at last, the sympathetic, caring orbs presently beholding him weren't his daughter's crystal blue ones. They were a clear, amethyst gray and reflected a look of wisdom that belied the years of their young owner…Wait … _no they weren't!_

The gentle eyes he was now peering into were just as kind, just as loving … but were now a beautiful amber _brown!_

"You're going to be alright, Phoenix."

The disbarred lawyer blinked a few times as the startled cry escaped his lips.

 _"You!"_ He gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil Collins - Something Happened On The Way To Heaven


	29. Hail To The Chief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have my heart  
> And we'll never be worlds apart  
> Maybe in magazines  
> But you'll still be my star  
> Baby, 'cause in the dark  
> You can't see shiny cars  
> And that's when you need me there  
> With you I'll always share  
> Because
> 
> When the sun shines, we'll shine together  
> Told you I'd be here forever  
> Said I'll always be your friend  
> Took an oath I'mma stick it out 'til the end  
> Now that it's raining more than ever  
> Know that we'll still have each other  
> You can stand under my umbrella  
> You can stand under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)
> 
> These fancy things, will never come in between  
> You're part of my entity, here for infinity  
> When the war has took its part  
> When the world has dealt its cards  
> If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart  
> Because
> 
> When the sun shines, we'll shine together  
> Told you I'd be here forever  
> Said I'll always be your friend  
> Took an oath I'mma stick it out 'til the end  
> Now that it's raining more than ever  
> Know that we'll still have each other  
> You can stand under my umbrella  
> You can stand under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)
> 
> You can run into my arms  
> It's OK, don't be alarmed  
> Come here to me  
> There's no distance in between our love  
> So go on and let the rain pour  
> I'll be all you need and more  
> Because
> 
> When the sun shines, we'll shine together  
> Told you I'll be here forever  
> Said I'll always be your friend  
> Took an oath I'mma stick it out 'til the end  
> Now that it's raining more than ever  
> Know that we'll still have each other  
> You can stand under my umbrella  
> You can stand under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh)  
> Under my umbrella  
> (Ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)
> 
> It's raining, raining  
> Oh, baby, it's raining, raining  
> Baby, come here to me  
> Come here to me  
> It's raining, raining  
> Oh, baby, it's raining, raining  
> You can always come here to me  
> Come here to me

**_Phoenix Wright and Mia Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Visitors Lounge_ _  
_September 5, 2020, 12:00 PM

Mia Fey took an assessing squiz around at her surroundings, still slightly disoriented from the channeling process, and realized she was crouched down in front of a slumped over Phoenix, in what appeared to be a hospital waiting area. She also found the fitted sash of Pearl's spirit medium robe was digging into her stomach in her current position. Moreover, it was so obscenely short on her, she was uncertain if her squatted stance allowed her any more decency in the _rear_ than she had in the _front!_

Hastily, she stood up. She tried to opt for a standing position, and then leaning over her old protégé instead, but found that, as always, she couldn't get the neckline of Pearl's robes to fully encompass her bountiful breasts. Luckily, she caught herself in time. Glancing down in embarrassment, Mia realized that the robe was stretched to near-bursting, threatening to let her modesty tumble free at a moment's notice and give poor Phoenix a _boob to the head!_

Fighting back vexation, she finally decided that the perfect blend of reassurance _and_ decorum was to remain standing _straight_ , with one hand tugging Pearl's robes as far around her globes as possible while placing her free one comfortingly upon his shoulder. She stared down at his dejected form with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Mia wasn't sure _why_ Pearl had channeled her, but she _did_ know something bad must have happened. There could be no other explanation for her current presence back on earth, along with the miserable-looking figure slouched down in front of her, his shoulders sagged with defeat.

"You're going to be alright, Phoenix," she soothed, not knowing the circumstances of his gloomy state, yet instinctively knowing it was the right thing to say.

Phoenix's head jerked up, and he shot up out of his chair like a rocket, a shocked expression on his face at the sight of her.

 _"You!"_ He gasped, his eyes the size of saucers.

"It's been a long time, Phoenix," Mia smiled, slightly amused at his dramatic, stunned reaction. "Exactly _how_ long has it been, anyway?"

 _"Ch- Chief!"_ Phoenix struggled to return to normalcy from his state of unreality but still found himself speechless. He wracked his brain, trying to find the answer to Mia's simple question. Since his disbarment, every day felt the same as the next, with no distinction in-between, just like in the movie _Groundhog Day_ – he hardly had any concept of time anymore. When he finally tabulated the mental math of just _how_ long it'd been since he'd seen his beloved mentor, he could scarcely get the words out.

"About a year and a half since our last case, Chief …" His voice was barely audible.

Mia tilted her head questioningly to the side as she absently touched her cheek, and found it still slightly damp. Pearl had been crying. As she coupled this with the state her former protégé had been in, she felt the alarm slowly rising within her. Something was wrong. _Very_ wrong.

"Phoenix, talk to me. I _know_ something isn't right, or Pearly wouldn't have called me. What's going on?"

His deceased mentor's worried tone cut into him like a katana blade. He could no longer hold back the sob welling up in his throat.

"Ch – Chief, do you remember how you always said that an attorney has to keep smiling, no matter how bad it gets?" He stuttered, hanging his head in misery. "That you only get to cry when it's all over?"

Mia nodded silently.

"Well… it's over." Phoenix's stomach churned as the words tumbled out of his lips. "I... I failed my client. I-I failed _you!_ I ruined your office!" A tear escaped the corner of his eye, and he helplessly gestured at his hobo apparel, as though inviting her to think the unspoken words: _look at what I've become_!

"Phoenix, one loss isn't failing. You win some, and you lose some –"

"Mia, I _lost my badge_! And I ruined both my life as well as Maya's! It's _my_ fault she's been admitted here to this hospital right now!"

Silence blanketed the room like an overbearing blackness, listening to the resonance of the woeful outburst and echoing against the walls.

Mia could only stare mutely at the man now standing before her, rattled by his confession. She didn't know what bit of news had her more shaken to the core – Phoenix Wright, champion of justice, the against all odds, King of the Turnabout … _stripped of his badge_? Her baby sister was _in the hospital_? And it was all somehow _his_ fault? No. She couldn't _– wouldn't!_ – believe it! There _had_ to be some mistake!

"W- what? H-how?" Was all she could muster. It was her turn to stammer now.

This was his worst nightmare come to life. Phoenix swallowed hard. He wasn't sure which admission would make her despise him more, but there was no turning back now. After all, it was over. Mia _knew_. He may as well start from the very beginning and relay the sequence of events that had led up to here.

"I've been disbarred. I made a stupid mistake, a year and a half ago." He fought back another sob. "I... I screwed up, Chief. I don't know what I was thinking when I blindly presented that diary page. The bar association panel – the _tribunal –_ they demanded my badge and _made me watch_ while they destroyed it, right before my eyes!"

That by far was the most agonizing, humiliating moment of all to recount, one he hadn't even shared with Maya. A teardrop fell, then another, and another, until they were falling faster than he could brush them away.

"I'm so, so sorry, Chief. I lost your practice. I failed you! I failed Maya! I – I've ruined _everything!"_

Mia stepped forward and wrapped her slender arms around her former pupil. He collapsed on her in a sorrowful hug, apologizing over a torrent of tears he had not allowed himself to shed since that fateful day over a year ago with Trucy. His crumpling form dragged them both back into the chairs until she was seated next to him with his head buried against her, bracing him as he wept. She struggled against the lump in her throat and fought back her own tears of sympathy. It was heart-wrenching to see a grown man, particularly one she adored, be as bereft as this. But she'd never allowed her ex-protégé to be lost to devastation before and she most definitely wasn't about to start now.

Another sob rose within him, and his inability to stifle it only emphasized his feebleness to himself. The tears were flowing freely down his cheeks now.

"I – I've destroyed your legacy and everything I've ever b – believed in and worked so hard for! It's all gone now because of _me_! And I have no idea what to do and how to turn things around, Mia. I _beg_ of you, _please_ forgive me … I never, _ever_ wanted you to see me like this…"

Phoenix was blinded by his tears by now; his vision was so bleary that all he could vaguely make of his surroundings were blurry splotches of color. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the heaving of his chest back under control.

His efforts proved to be futile as Mia gently pulled his head against her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and rocking him as soothingly as a mother would a newborn infant.

"Shhh…" She susurrated. "It's OK. Let it all out."

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Phoenix, at last, wept the way he'd wanted to since his life had turned upside down. The way he'd wanted to when he'd overheard the Dragon Lady spewing her malice about how he wasn't good enough for Maya. The way he'd longed to when he'd had to tell Maya goodbye each time… and the way he'd barely refrained from when he'd discovered that the love of his life was in the hospital, fighting for her life. He sobbed wordlessly, inconsolably, clutching at Mia as if she were his anchor for both safety and sanity. He bawled until there were no more streaming droplets left to shed, and his stinging eyes felt so puffy and swollen, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to fully open them again.

Eventually, the deluge ceased, leaving behind a feeling of hollowness. Mia reached under his hat and softly stroked his hair, her fingers instinctively gliding over his spikes, in the same manner, Maya did as a comforting gesture, maintaining the calming motion the whole time, while gently rocking him and making soothing noises.

At last, he sat up and dried the last of his tears on the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt. A cursory gander around the room showed him that mercifully, they were still alone and there had been no other witnesses to his mini-breakdown. He grinned sheepishly at his girlfriend's sister, redness in his cheeks as he managed to mumble his thanks.

"Thanks, Chief. I guess I needed that. But again, I'm so sorry…"

"Please stop apologizing," Mia said kindly. The smile on her pretty face was sad but sincere. "It's okay if you thought you were over it but it hits you all over again. It's okay to fall apart even after you thought you had it under control. You are not weak. Healing is messy. There is no timeline for healing."

"I just feel so weak and helpless right now…"

"Which is something that happens even to the best of us. Lawyers may need to be strong and smile for their clients, but behind closed doors, by ourselves, with our loved ones … sometimes you just have to let go. Remember, you're only human."

She gave him a maternal pat on his cheek.

"And stop thinking you've disappointed me, Phoenix. I'm still proud of all you've managed to achieve. I'm also eternally grateful to you, for all you've done for my family. Taking in Maya was kindness and generosity personified, but then to have taken in _Pearly_ as well … I will always love you for that. I don't know what they would have done without you."

 _Maya_. Oh, sweet Jesus. In his misery, he'd forgotten that he had yet to tell Mia about _her sister_ , about why their bittersweet reunion was taking place in a hospital lounge!

Phoenix averted his eyes, unable to meet her gaze as she went on.

"I may not know all the details of your badge being stripped, Phoenix, but I _do_ know _you_. You're a wonderful person, a good, honest man. You wouldn't do anything unethical or illegal on purpose."

He didn't deserve her ready forgiveness. Her praise. Not when she found out…

It was officially definitely _give-me-strength_ time. He got up from his seat and looked down at the seated Mia, his expression tormented.

"Chief, I appreciate you being such an angel and not throwing the book at me for making such a calamity of my life and your practice… but there's still more I need to tell you. I don't know if you'll forgive me so willingly when I tell you how _I'm_ to blame for Maya being here in the first place."

Mia rose from her chair as well, pensively studying her former apprentice's visage for a moment before she spoke.

"No. I _know_ that can't be true." She stubbornly shook her head. "You've always cared for Maya, Phoenix. What's more, you gave me _your word_ that you'd take care of her and protect her."

"I _do_ care, Chief! I _do_ … I – I _love_ her! And I _was_ trying to protect her!" Phoenix cried. "But what was the point of it all, when she's on that bed, _fighting for her life_ right now? I may as well have said screw those disapproving Kurain hags and that psycho stalker of mine and just been with her whenever she wanted us to be, had I foreseen that she was just going to end up in here! If only I had done _just_ that! At least then, even though I was a fallen and disgraced ex-lawyer, we'd still have been together and _happy_!"

In a rush, he told her everything, as best as he could, as Mia sat there in stunned, open-mouthed silence. His recounting of the details was based on the snippets Maya had briefly mentioned, in passing, throughout the past months, as well as what Pearl had confided to him earlier. He layered the insults on himself as he told his old boss the whole twisted tale, from having to hide their love first for the sake of Trucy's adoption, _then_ due to the Kurain embargo and _lastly_ , because to his suspicions about Kristoph Gavin.

"It's not like Gumshoe hasn't taken Trucy at the drop of a hat before if I'd opted to spend some clandestine time with your sister! We could have snuck around! _Why_ was I so shit-for-brains that I never even considered that option earlier? " He berated himself now. "But _no_ , I had to go make like the _Human Centipede_ and have my head up my ass! Hell, I _am_ an ass! An idiotic, paranoid _ass_ instead of a man! I let my wounded ego over that Dragon Lady cloud all rational judgement and refused to see the woman I loved because of it! Maya wouldn't have nearly killed herself like this if I'd _been_ there for her more often, Chief, I just _know_ it!"

Mia absorbed all this, astonished by the amount of self-abuse her anterior employee was heaping upon himself. How long had he been going around carrying the burdening weight of the world upon his shoulders like this? _Why_ did he feel the sordid need to make everything _his_ fault? _He_ hadn't driven Maya to near suicide, those horrible wretches of Kurain had! _Fate_ had! _Life_ had! But _not_ him. _Never_ him. Her sister wouldn't have even survived any of her previous trials and tribulations: the murder charges, the kidnapping, the Dahlia ordeal … had it not been for Phoenix. He was Maya's savior. He was her strength, not her downfall. She knew his love would get her sister through this ordeal, as well. She _had_ to make him see that.

"Phoenix, I _demand_ that you stop calling yourself such debasing names! That's one of my favorite people you're talking about!"

Mia tugged his horrid aqua cap off then, allowing the familiar spikes to spring free, before playfully swatting him on the skull with it. He yelped in protest and made a move to grab it back but she shook her head and stepped out of reach.

"You'll get this back _after_ you sit still and listen to your Chief now, all right?"

Phoenix nodded obediently and sat back down, while self-consciously running his hand over his bared head.

_I'll agree to anything if it means getting my beanie back! Ugh! I didn't even wash my hair today! Jeez, what is it with these Fey girls and their hate-on for my hat?!_

"Now, tell me something, Mr. Wright," Mia began, sounding like a professor lecturing her student. " _Why_ is it that you think my sister fell in love with you in the first place?"

The unexpected question threw him. "Um…b-because I saved her life?" Phoenix speculated, yelping as Mia smacked him over the head with his hat again as if trying to beat some sense into him.

"Stop calling yourself names _and_ selling yourself so short, Phoenix Wright!" Mia commanded, putting her hands on her hips. "Is that all you think Maya feels for you? Some sort of _hero gratitude_? Is that all you take her for? All you take _yourself_ for?"

"N – No, b – but…"

"I'll have you know something about my sister," Mia interrupted, pacing back and forth in front of him. "She's a very bright girl, and she's _not_ one to give her heart away so easily! You always being her knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress fallacies may have been why she first formed a _crush_ on you."

She grinned impishly.

"Well, _that_ , along with the possible gratitude for funding her chronically insatiable burger consumption."

_So, it was based on me forever filling up her six bottomless stomachs then?_

Phoenix wondered where Mia was going with this.

"But… it's _not_ why she ultimately fell in _love_ with you."

Phoenix belatedly realized that amongst all the unanticipated news he'd updated her on, Mia had shown _no_ sign of surprise _whatsoever_ , about him and Maya now being together!

" _Hold it_! Chief… _you_ knew how she felt about me?"

_Good grief, even the **dead** were aware that Maya loved me before I ever was? Damn, it's true! The man is seriously always **is** the last one to know!_

"Females, in general, are the embodiment of alluring mysteries that are beyond mortal capacity to decipher or understand." Mia flashed a cheeky grin. "I'm her big sister, Phoenix! Of _course_ , I knew! Moreover, I knew you two would hit it off – it's why I was so keen to have you two meet that fateful night you met – never intending it to be under the worst possible circumstances! But anyway, it's also why I can attest that the _reason_ Maya loves you is because of that big, beautiful heart of yours. And because of _who you are_ , and _not_ what you do for a living! You never gave up on anyone, and you can't give up on yourself either."

She walked back over to him tousled his hair.

"She _may_ have also noticed that when you're not wearing this ugly-ass hat, you're not too hard on the eyes either, you know!"

"Thanks, Chief." Phoenix blushed and dropped his eyes. "But it's been over a year, now, and I'm not getting anywhere. I'm just stringing her along. I'm supposed to be _hers_ ; she's supposed to be _mine_...We love each other so much… And we can't even see each other!"

"I'm confused. You just told me you'd been together a year and a half. Aren't you seeing each other now?"

"Not really. In the past year and a half, I've seen her _three_ times," Phoenix answered miserably. "You know the drill with that village, Mia! The Master can't associate with a scumbag forgin' attorney like me! It would ruin her reputation and that of the Kurain, which only recently has shed its previous stigma."

"Need I remind you how tenacious and stubborn my sister is, Phoenix?" Mia sighed. "Those things wouldn't matter if her mind was elsewhere, on something more important. And obviously, her mind has been set on _you_. So, to that end, _I'm_ more worried about _you_. I haven't seen you so broken since, well, since the last time Maya was in peril."

"That's why I've tried to make friends with Kristoph – so that he'll trust me, and like me enough not to want to hurt those I love just to get to me." Phoenix couldn't look her in the eye as he made this admission. "I still don't know for sure if my suspicions about him are correct, but the whole idea was to try to have it so Maya _wouldn't_ be in any perilous danger. I was willing to take that chance, even if I feel like I'm keeping her prisoner in Kurain, because of my paranoia about the wrong people seeing us together. I never in a million years could have known that Kurain would wind up being more dangerous for her than associating with me! But I _should_ have known! The signs were all there, I saw it for myself the last time I visited, and especially after Misty…"

"Phoenix, _stop_ blaming yourself and cease trying to find something to cavil at in everything I say!" Mia exclaimed, exasperated. "Not _everything_ bad that happens is _your_ fault! Neither was _World War Two_ for heaven's sake!" She held up her hand, silencing the protest he was about to make. "Tell me, did _you_ ever say anything to make Maya question her abilities as Master?"

Phoenix shook his head vehemently.

" _No_! Of course not! I told her I always believed in her; that she could do anything she put her mind to!"

"Did _you_ ever make disparaging comments about Misty Fey? Did _you_ make Maya feel as if she were somehow doomed to follow in her 'betraying' mother's footsteps and have history repeat itself because the proverbial apple doesn't fall far from the tree? Did _you_ ever make her feel inferior because Pearl was a better medium than her and thus deserved the title more?"

" _No and no_! A thousand times _no_!" Phoenix was indignant. "Jesus, Mia, what do you take me for?"

She still wasn't done.

"Did _you_ forcibly drag Maya up to that temple today after making her starve herself for days on end and coerce her to stand for hours under a frigid waterfall?"

"Of course not!"

"I didn't _think_ so," Mia crossed her arms and smirked at him. "So then tell me again, _how_ and _why_ any of this is _your_ fault, Phoenix?"

With the cards all fully laid out on the table and put into such blatantly glaring light like this, Phoenix suddenly felt his self-recriminations melt away like cotton candy in the rain. Now he just felt like a _complete_ and _total_ imbecile – albeit a somewhat less guilty one! He didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he suddenly, miraculously felt the heavy burden of guilt leave his shoulders.

"You _really_ don't think this was my fault, Chief?" He asked meekly, hopefully. "That if I'd been around more, she wouldn't have…"

" _Regardless_ if you were there or not, Phoenix, she still would have had those nasty old biddies to contend with to undo any damage repair your presence may have temporarily fixed," Mia affirmed gloomily.

The knowledge didn't make _her_ feel much better, although she was glad that her protégé appeared to have his unnecessary self-reproach somewhat alleviated. The aperçu of Maya living in such a hostile environment of wizened beldames, with only little Pearl as her sole ally, and being forced to sever ties with Phoenix as her only other alliance, was disturbing indeed. That was a whole new can of worms entirely, which Mia wasn't even sure Maya's superhero boyfriend could save her from this time.

Some sort of corrigible resolution _had_ to be found to fix this infelicitous plight, surely. The question was, _what_?

The defense attorney stifled another sigh. She would worry about that later, once she was sure she'd completely gotten through to her erstwhile apt pupil.

"Listen, Superman, for _both_ your sakes, please stop thinking you have to do everything all by yourself in order to protect my sister," Mia stated firmly, her gaze intense. "You're not a one-man band, Phoenix! This martyred hero complex of yours may very well have you winding up in a bed _beside_ Maya's if you keep this up!"

The hobo shrank away from her unwavering glower.

"OK, fine, when you put it that way, I guess you're right, I'm not _completely_ alone," he realized. "Maya aside, the Gumshoes have been like family to me and Trucy, ready to take her in at a moment's notice whenever I needed them to watch her. And I _do_ have Edgeworth in Europe looking into things regarding that last case and the Gavins as well."

"Where does your daughter factor into all of this? Even though she's adopted officially now, she still isn't privy to know about Maya?"

He shook his head.

"I'm keeping my kid out of this, Mia. Tots, even good ones like her, are unintentional blabbermouths! The _last_ thing I need is to take Trucy to work, have Kristoph show up, and _hear_ her beg for a 'new mommy' by name."

"You take Trucy to _work_ with you?" Mia repeated, looking puzzled. "What _is_ it you're doing now?"

Phoenix's breath caught suddenly. He leaned forward on his knees and caught his head on his right thumb and forefinger to stare into the floor. Revealing his new job was almost as painfully mortifying as professing his disbarment. He took a deep breath and looked back up to his friend's pensively waiting face.

"I'm ... I'm a pianist now."

"You're a _what?"_ Mia was startled. "I didn't realize you even knew _how_ to play the piano!"

"Um, I _can't_ ," he muttered. "Not _well,_ anyway. I know maybe two songs fully and I just fake my way through a few bars of show tunes or Disney themes for the most part. The customers are too drunk to care, anyway. If they get rowdy and start making objections to my lackluster keying skills, I um, sort of start singing to distract them…"

" _Sing_?" Now the busty beauty was utterly gobsmacked. "Since when can you can _sing_?"

_My golden vocal cords, more so than my silver tongue, would be how I won your sister's heart. But that's a story for another day._

"Well, I guess all those years of practicing my courtroom bellowing of _Hold It!_ and _Take That!_ have paid off as a transferrable skill. I'm attributing it as the key factor which helped prepare my vocal cords for other purposes, for when I'm not behind the bench," he muttered, feeling his cheeks redden. "Consequently, I can belt out the tunes better than I play the piano! Or so I've been _told_ , anyway…"

"Let me get this straight…" She spoke slowly, trying to comprehend the situation. "What you're telling me is… you're a sub-par musician but a _passable_ singer…and you somehow manage to get _paid_ for this?"

Phoenix scratched the back of his neck and flashed one of his most disarming smiles before he dropped his next bomb on her.

"I _hate_ telling this part … Maya doesn't even know about it … the piano playing is just a front for my _real_ job." He could feel another blush creeping across his face. There was nil good way to make his unbroken win record sound like anything but cockish boasting or a lame reparation attempt for his failure. "Er, I play poker. I'm kinda, sorta undefeated."

" _Poker_?" Mia echoed blankly.

"It's not like it's _gambling_ or anything," he explained, somewhat defensively. "I'm not really doing anything _illegal_ , per se…"

He hadn't relayed this information to anyone but the Gumshoes – his friends at the bar didn't even know about the details of his double duty. He figured the questionable legality of the other activities that went down in the underground circuit was best left unsaid right now. He didn't want to risk Mia's disapproval – there was only _so much_ saintliness a woman could have!

"Then how –?"

"I just get paid to play customers wanting a challenge. We play for glory, not money. And I don't bring Trucy every night, only when there's a poker tournament and in the evenings, when she's not working as a magician at The Wonder Bar. Plus, her father was big in the poker circuit. I figure if I stick with this, I might be able to find him."

"I see."

He sat up straight in his chair then, a look of grim determination, reminiscent of the old Phoenix, on his mien.

"But even if I do find that lousy rat bastard, I'm _not_ giving her back to him! He doesn't deserve her! Besides, I'm not sure I could let her go." He smiled diffidently. "Trucy's my _daughter_ , Chief. She loves me and I love her. Maya aside, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. She's my _light_."

Mia smiled indulgently at this before she made her next inquiry.

"But you're not going to hide Maya forever, are you, _Papa?_ You _will_ let Trucy meet her, eventually?"

"Most definitely," Phoenix swore. "You have no idea how tempting it is to just confess everything, ruining both my investigation and Maya's reputation just to bring my girls together." He sighed morosely. "But I can't do that. Not yet. Not until I know it's safe."

"I'm not going to lie, this isn't a pretty picture you've painted here, dear friend," Mia noted quietly, her expression thoughtful. "However, I'm also not going to tell you to smile this time or keep putting on a brave face. It's not necessary, or even realistic. Life sucks right now, for both of you. Obviously, your attempts to keep a stiff upper lip throughout all of this, even if it was for the sake of your daughter might have made things far worse than if you'd just … _released_ that sorrow and leaned on those who love you. Pearly and I love you like family, and we'll never be ashamed to associate with you. You _are_ family to Maya …and to _all_ of us. You're an honorary Fey. And you are _not_ alone. Please remember that."

The hobo's responding smile was hesitant but genuine as he mulled over what his former boss had just said.

_I will no longer shun or refuse help from my friends, and I don't have to pretend I'm fine in front of them when I'm not. I will **not** try to be a one-man-band._

"Thank you, Mia," he said softly.

"You're welcome, Phoenix." A benign smile from the brunette. "But, do you want to know who _else_ shouldn't be alone right now?"

"Who?"

"Pearly. With her guardian here in the hospital, who's going to look after her? I'd hate to send her off to Kurain without my sister there to watch over her – I mean, look at what they did to _her_! God knows what they'd try to do to my baby cousin without Maya there to protect her!" Mia shuddered as she eyed him anxiously. "What are we going to do, Phoenix?"

Another smile crept over the pianist's face. Things were still bad, yes. Maya's recovery was still pending, but he was confident she'd pull through. Mia had reminded him what a tough cookie his girl was. He fervently _needed_ to believe in that for the moment. Right now, though, at least, he'd finally come across a problem that he _actually_ had the solution for.

"Don't you worry about Pearls, Chief," he winked. "You just leave this to me. I have an idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rihanna – Umbrella


	30. Suddenly Siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I don't care if I'm pretty at all  
> And I don't care if you never get tall  
> I like what I look like, and you're nice small  
> We don't have to change at all
> 
> When I grow up, I'm gonna be happy and do what I like to do  
> Like making noise and making faces and making friends like you  
> And when we grow up, do you think we'll see  
> That I'm still like you and you're still like me?  
> I might be pretty; you might grow tall  
> But we don't have to change at all
> 
> [spoken]  
> I don't want to change, see,  
> 'cause I still want to be your friend,  
> forever and ever and ever and ever and ever

_**Maggey Gumshoe and Pearl Fey**_ _ **  
**_ _Gumshoe Residence  
_ September 5, 2020, 7:00 PM

"Are you _sure_ you had enough to eat for supper, little missy?" Maggey asked the silent spirit medium, who was sitting glumly at the dining table, idly stirring her untouched glass of chocolate milk with her straw. "You barely pecked at your dinner. I thought you loved macaroni and cheese?"

Pearl looked at the kindly woman, who, along with her husband, had agreed to keep her as their 'special visitor for the evening while Mr. Nick was at work and forced a smile.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Gumshoe," she apologized quietly. "I guess I'm not very hungry right now. But it was very yummy. Maybe I'll have some later. Is that OK?"

She absently reached over and stroked Gordy's silky brown hair and in retaliation, the baby gurgled and cooed at their houseguest, then merrily banged his fists onto his dinner tray, sending splotches of mashed up baby food flying in the air. Unlike the psychic, the one-year-old, seated at the high chair next to Pearl, was happily tucking into _his_ meal, consisting of mashed potatoes and peas, most of which he was wearing on his bib and face; Maggey had been only partially successful in getting half of the _actual_ spoonful into his mouth!

Gumshoe's wife peered into the little girl's downcast visage and smiled sympathetically. She didn't blame the child for not being in the mood to eat, what with her guardian being in the hospital. Unlike the last time she'd baby-sat her, the normally cheerful and bubbly Pearl had barely spoken a word all night. She'd only smiled when playing with Gordy, whom she'd taken to like a duck to water, and vice versa.

"Of course, it's OK, sweetie. I guess Maya's legendary healthy appetite skipped your side of the family?" She teased softly, hoping to lighten the mood. " _She_ never would have let homemade mac n' cheese get past her – especially not with the ground-up hamburger I added to it!"

The quip had the desired effect of bringing a brief smile to Pearl's face for a moment.

"Mr. Nick always used to say he didn't understand how she wasn't 400 pounds with the way she eats," she giggled. "When he came up for her Master ritual, he and Mystic Maya missed the special lunch. The chef had made an Angus burger with ramen noodles on top especially for her! Mystic Maya told me later she didn't care about food, because she could eat _whenever_ but she'd wanted to ensure she spent as much time alone with her Special Someone as possible. That was the reason why she stayed with him at the manor all morning, after the ceremony."

Maggey's brown eyes widened in amazement.

" _Maya_ turned down a _burger_ for _Phoenix_? Wow, she _must_ love him!"

"She really does," Pearl confirmed quietly. "And she's gotten even skinnier lately, as she hasn't been eating much since his last visit. I think it's partly because she's been so sad that he hasn't been allowed to come to see her in Kurain since then. That's because the Dragon Lady says the Master isn't allowed to hang out with a _forgin' turney_ and she'd have Mr. Nick arrested for _tres-pass-ing_ if he ever came back."

" _The Dragon Lady_?" Maggey repeated, not sure whether to be amused by the christening of one of the presumed village Elders or saddened upon hearing that their narrow-minded prejudices were keeping her two dear friends apart. "Who's that?"

"Mystic Mildred." A scowl marred Pearl's angelic face as she rolled up her sleeve. "I _hate_ that mean old witch! After Mr. Nick left, I heard Mystic Maya explaining that they'd been gone so long because some wild squirrels and raccoons had gotten into the Fey Manor and she'd needed his help chasing them out. And _that_ was the reason why little Mystic Miranda, one of the acolytes in my group, heard so much _noise_ coming out the house when Mystic Mildred sent her after a while to check on them. Mystic Maya said she was glad Mr. Nick was there to help her because she was scared the animals may have had rabies and would bite her, and _that's_ why Mystic Miranda heard her screaming so loudly…"

The new mom's eyeballs nearly bugged out her head at the direction this conversation was headed. She felt her face reddening and quickly took a large swig from her glass of water, desperately wishing it was vodka.

_Damn, I wish I wasn't still breastfeeding!_

Pearl appeared oblivious to Maggey's mortified reaction and prattled on, as though on a roll.

"So anyway, I heard the nasty old hag tell Mystic Maya that Miranda wouldn't have been so _tram-at-sized_ and run away from the house…. if Mystic Maya had only kept her bedroom window, 'among other things', closed!"

Her eyes flashed with annoyance.

"That is _so_ unfair and mean! How could The Dragon Lady just assume the animals came in through Mystic Maya's room? It's not my cousin's fault she's frightened of little woodland animals and they make her _yell so loud!_ Fey Manor is a really big house – how was my cousin supposed to keep track of _all_ the doors and windows? Aside from shutting her bedroom window and the main door, exactly _what else_ did the Dragon Lady expect her to keep closed, Mrs. Gumshoe?"

She eyed Maggey expectantly and found Gordy's mother was now the colour of a tomato.

 _Good grief!_ The former Goddess of Misfortune thought wildly. _How am I ever supposed to be able to look Phoenix in the eye again after inadvertently hearing that his sack skills make Maya's vocal cords_ _ **and**_ _lady parts…_ _ **scream?!**_

"I, um…"

Maggey was at a complete loss for words. She knew that as a parent, she'd have to have the "birds and the bees" talk with her own son, somewhere down the line. But her son was only a baby now; she hadn't planned on having this discussion for at least … another _20 or 30 years_! Besides, Gordy was a _boy_ … ergo, she'd fully intended to let _that_ particular subject be handled by his _father!_

Right now, the idea of telling a naïve, vulnerable young girl that the only animal sounds little Miranda had overheard coming out of the revered Master's bedroom had been of the _two-legged variety_ was about as welcome as another C-section!

"Well you see, Pearl…"

"Honey, I'm home!" A loud voice boomed from the doorway.

"Dick!" Maggey nearly toppled over her chair in her haste to greet her husband at that moment; she was _that_ grateful for the reprieve from the _mother_ of all awkward conversations. "You're back! How wonderful!"

She threw her arms around her spouse in a huge bear hug, which he returned, then drew back to inquisitively regard her still flushed cheeks.

"Have you been eating spicy food, honey?" He asked, looking confused.

"No, not at all, why?"

"Did the AC go out again?" He persisted; his expression concerned as he studied his wife. "Your face is all red."

"Yes! That's it! So hot in here…stupid AC!" Maggey seized the excuse with gusto and mimed fanning herself with her hand. "Good thing we're moving out of here in a week! That blasted superintendent _never_ returns my calls!"

Gumshoe continued to look at her strangely, then his broad face broke into a huge grin at the sight of Pearl, who'd been playing peek-a-boo with the baby.

"Are you finished eating, Little Missy?" He asked jovially. "Maggey has to bathe and put Gordy to bed now but I have a surprise for you tonight, just you and me – if you're up for it?"

Pearl nodded and reluctantly pulled herself away from the infant, her early animated mood vanished, replaced by her solemn one.

"I'm ready, Mr. Scruffy Detective," she mumbled softly, walking over to him. "Let's go."

"Hey! I may still be _scruffy_ but that's about it!" He chortled heartily and tousled her hair. "How many times do I gotta keep telling you, I'm not a detective anymore, pal?"

"Oops." Pearl dropped her head to the side, looking downward with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gumshoe."

 _Oh dear, she took that wrong. Why did I have to make a big deal out of that?_ Gumshoe groaned inwardly. _She's been calling me Scruffy Detective since she's known me, why would I ask her to stop_ _ **now**_ _, when she's so down?_

"Please, Pearl, no _Mr._ neither," he pleaded. "How about you just call me – Scruffy, then?"

"And no _Mrs_. with me, either," Maggey added quickly. "Feel free to just call me Maggey."

"I'm sorry." Pearl shook her head. "But I was raised not to call grown-ups by their first names."

"Sweetie, we love you like _family,"_ Maggey insisted gently, reaching down and stroking the little girl's cheek. "How would you feel about calling me Aunt Maggey then?"

_After all, that's what Trucy already calls me! And if there's a God up there, she_ _**will** _ _be your sister someday, if the heavens allow Phoenix and Maya to_ _**finally** _ _be together so that the four of you can be a family!_

Pearl smiled hesitantly.

"OK… Aunt Maggey." She gave her a quick hug, then turned to Gumshoe. "Let's go now…Uncle Scruffy."

The former detective threw his head back and laughed loudly at his new sobriquet, then flashed Pearl a big ear-to-ear grin.

"I'll take it! In fact, I really like it, pal! It's the best compromise in the whole world."

* * *

 _ **Dick Gumshoe and Pearl Fey**_ _ **  
**_ _The Wonder Bar  
_ September 5, 2020, 7:30 PM

"I sure hope you like the show," Gumshoe looked anxiously at Pearl. They were seated front row and center right before the stage and the performance had yet to start. "I'm not too sure if this is your thing but I thought it'd be a good way to get your mind off the other stuff, at least for tonight. How are your fries?"

Pearl paused from the act of drawing pictures in the pool of ketchup on her plate with her French fries, which, upon hearing that she'd barely eaten dinner, Gumshoe had thoughtfully bought for her.

"They're very good," she replied, dutifully popping a couple of potato wedges into her mouth and smiling wanly. "Thank you, Uncle Scruffy. And I'm sure if _you_ think this place is fun, _I_ will too."

Gumshoe wasn't convinced, but he would have given anything in the world to see a smile on that sweet face again, which hadn't resurfaced since they'd left the apartment. Certainly, _this_ was a better idea than sitting all night with a couple of boring adults after Gordy was in bed while waiting for Phoenix to return from work? He certainly hoped so. He'd never seen Pearl so blue, although he was grateful that she was at least putting more of a dent in the fries than she had in her dinner plate at home.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The MC suddenly announced on the speaker system. "Take your places, it's time for the main event of the evening! Put your hands together for the one, the only, _Trucy the Talented!"_

A spotlight shined on the stage, and a tiny girl in a pink cape, about Pearl's age, appeared as if from nowhere, from a thick cloud of smoke amid a fanfare of music. She beamed broadly at the audience, who welcomed her warmly with applause, and tipped her pink silk magician hat at them. Pearl joined in the clapping as well, then sat back with a small smile on her lips as she watched the little girl begin a series of fun magic acts.

Gumshoe eyed his companion nervously at first but then relaxed and basked in the show as well, once he'd ascertained that his niece was truly enjoying herself.

Pearl was positively enchanted, her woes momentarily forgotten as her transfixed gaze remained unwaveringly on the stage. How could someone her age be capable of such stupendous feats? It was absolutely marvelous! This little girl, who although performing things on a smaller scale than acclaimed magician Max Galactica at the Berry Circus, was _equally_ as talented, just as her stage name indicated!

Trucy warmed up the crowd by beginning with her 'production' tricks, first pulling an adorable white rabbit from an empty hat.

 _No way would Mystic Maya have been frightened and screaming if_ _ **that**_ _came in through her window!_ Pearl thought gleefully. _Fluffy bunnies are too cute to be scary!_

Next, the Troupe Gramarye prodigy produced a fan of cards from 'thin air', then managed to somehow create a shower of gold coins from an empty bucket. Pearl giggled as Trucy began tossing them into the audience and even caught a few of them – they were gold-foil coins wrapped over chocolate.

For the second act, Trucy then moved into her 'vanishing' set. She began by stuffing a silk scarf into her fist … uttered a few magic words and then opened her hands to the crowd, revealing _nothing_ _at all!_ After that, the magician placed a white dove in a cage, clapped her hands and just like with the neck accessory, _everything_ vanished … not only the bird _but the cage_ , as well! The spirit medium got a real kick out of that one!

The third act was the 'restoration' set. The illusionist took a knife and cut a rope into two pieces, then tied the two pieces together. The knot mysteriously vanished, leaving behind one solid, unbroken piece of rope! Her following trick was similar; she then proceeded to take a newspaper and tear it to bits.

 _That's what Mystic Maya did with all those bad news articles about Mr. Nick being a forgin' turney!_ Pearl giggled to herself, applauding as the magician rubbed the pieces together and the newspaper became whole once more. _Right before she threw them into the incinerator in our backyard!_

Phoenix's daughter momentarily left the stage, then returned a moment later, wheeling a large box.

"For my next trick, I need help from a member of the audience!" She announced. "Any volunteers?"

"Over here, Trucy!" Gumshoe suddenly called, standing up. Then, without warning, he took the protesting Pearl by the hand and pulled her onto the stage, a broad grin on his face as he brought the two girls face-to-face. "Here's your volunteer!"

Trucy cheerfully explained she would need Pearl to get into the container, where she'd be laying down and only her head would be out of the box from the opening on top. She wielded a saw in one hand and smiled mischievously as the other girl's eyes widened in terror.

"Don't worry, this will only hurt for a minute!" The magician joked.

Panicked, Pearl shook her head violently and ducked behind her Uncle.

" _No!"_ She wailed. "I don't want to be sawed in half!" Frightened tears sprung to her eyes. "Please don't make me!"

Seeing that the child was genuinely distraught, Trucy relented and turned to her Uncle.

"No problem, then, because this box is still big enough for _you_ , Mister!" She announced, flashing a conspiring smirk at Gumshoe. "I'm sure _you_ won't mind taking her place, then?"

"Um, I dunno, pal…" Gumshoe scratched his head nervously. "That looks like an awfully tight squeeze…"

"They say what's good for the goose is good for the gander," Trucy insisted with a wink. "Unless you're too _chicken_?" She began making clucking sounds and flapping her 'wings' much to the merriment of the crowd, who joined in the motion.

" _Bakok!"_ They chorused over and over until the red-faced Gumshoe relented and unenthusiastically stepped into the contraption. _"Bakok!"_

The things he did for love! Even cleaning Mr. Edgeworth's office and spit shining his sports car hadn't been this humiliating!

_We all have ups and downs in our life. Some of the incidents make us laugh, while some leave us with silence. Everyone faces weird situations in life. We should cherish these odd conditions and stay happy. And if getting sawed in half makes Little Missy happy… then what kind of Uncle would I be to pose an objection?_

Trucy stood in front of the box, saw in hand, and smiled deviously at Pearl as she began the sawing motion.

"You've got life insurance, right?" She asked Gumshoe with a fiendish smile as she finished the action.

He merely grunted in response.

Pearl covered her eyes, then clapped her hand over her open mouth as Trucy pushed the now separated parts of the box apart, with Gumshoe's head in one half, and his "feet" sticking out of the other.

Trucy strode back up to the acolyte, who was still open-mouthed in shock.

"Now to put him back together!" She beamed. "But first I need to say the magic words. Will you help me?"

Pearl nodded silently.

"Say it with me, on the count of three, OK? _Alakazoo! Alakazam! Abracadabra,_ you're back together again!"

Pearl chanted obediently when prompted, and despite knowing she was being silly, felt a surge of relief when Gumshoe stepped out of the once again magically rejoined box, fully intact, in one piece, and completely unharmed. She applauded enthusiastically as Trucy and Gumshoe bowed to the crowd.

"That was wonderful!" She enthused. "But I'm sorry I chickened out and made you have to do that in my place, Uncle Scruffy."

She smiled shyly at Gumshoe, who chuckled and tousled her hair.

"No worries, Little Missy."

" _Hold It!_ Trucy asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "Uncle Gumshoe is _your_ uncle too?"

Pearl nodded shyly.

"Well, why didn't you _say_ so? That makes you my _extra special_ assistant then since that would make us practically _cousins_!" Trucy declared happily. "What's your name?"

"I'm Pearl." She ducked her head bashfully.

"Pearl, for my next trick, I'm going to need _two_ helpers. First, everyone, say hello … to Mr. Hat!"

The audience cheered, but Pearl jumped skittishly as the life-sized wooden marionette suddenly popped up behind Trucy, somehow taking the hat off her head and winding up with it on his own as he clacked his jaws.

"Hello, Pearl!" Mr. Hat greeted her.

"Um, hello, Mr. Hat," she replied cautiously.

"Pearl, could you take this hat off my head?" Mr. Hat requested. "Please check and confirm that it's empty?"

Pearl hesitantly reached over and took the hat off the puppet's head, leaving Trucy and him both bare-headed now.

"Feel inside the hat," Trucy instructed. "Is it empty?"

Pearl ran her hand along the inside of the hat. "Yes, it is." She affirmed.

"Now show the hat to the crowd, that it is empty," Trucy instructed.

Pearl smiled, feeling herself getting into the swing of things. She made a grand presentation of visibly shaking out the hat to indicate that nothing was falling out of it, then showed the hat from all possible angles to the audience to verify that it was indeed, empty, before handing it to Trucy.

Trucy closed her eyes and waved her hands, shouting out " _Alakazam_!" Then she reached into the hat and with a flourish, produced a pair of enormous women's bloomers, which were blue with red hearts decorating them. "Behold my magic panties!"

She fished into them and produced another silk magician's hat, identical to her own but in a pretty lilac color that matched the spirit medium's acolyte robe. The magician waved it dramatically as she presented it to her delighted "cousin" as she placed it on her head before grabbing her own off Mr. Hat's head and donning it back on. Then she grabbed Pearl's hand and waved it in the air.

"Now you're _officially_ a magician's assistant!" Trucy crowed, waving their joined hands in the air. "Everyone, let's give my special magic helper, Pearl a big hand!"

The audience applauded enthusiastically as the two girls bowed, and then Trucy dug into her magic panties again, this time pulling colorful strips of confetti out and throwing them out to the thrilled crowd as part of her finale. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of the decorative streamers coming out from the bloomers which she waved about in the air in a swirl of blue and red.

As the silk-hatted Pearl made her exit and went back to her seat, she continued to watch Trucy on the stage, all the while feeling almost hypnotized as she did so. She furrowed her brow in concentration, as this time she was finally able to pay full attention to the scene, not only to the charming girl wielding them but to the magical prop in action.

_What is about_ _those panties that look so familiar?!_

She blinked twice to ensure she wasn't seeing things. Then, as she studied the novelty item in Trucy's hands, understanding dawned on her at last.

The reason magical panties looked so familiar to her was that she _recognized_ them… as the item that Mystic Maya had purchased as a present last Christmas! For Mr. Nick's _daughter_ , Trucy!

Pearl wanted to smack herself in the head for being so obtuse. She blamed it on the stress of Mystic Maya being in the hospital. She should have gotten her first clue then the gregarious girl had happily proclaimed them to be cousins because they shared the same man as an uncle…the sole exception being that Trucy referred to Uncle _Scruffy_ as Uncle _Gumshoe_!

 _Trucy…magic panties…my goodness, why didn't I put two and two together when I heard her name announced earlier? Trucy isn't that common of a name!_ Pearl thought in disbelief. _And there's no way another girl named Trucy out there would also have these magic panties! This girl_ _ **is**_ _Mr. Nick's daughter! Forget_ _ **cousins**_ _, when he marries Mystic Maya, she'll be my_ _ **sister**_ _!_

This was Uncle Scruffy's _true_ surprise! At long last, _finally_ getting to meet her _sister_! And she was a talented _magician_!

Pearl knew magicians weren't allowed to reveal their secrets of their act to anyone if asked, even their family members, but that was OK with her because, in the meantime, _she_ had her _own_ secret to keep from her sudden sibling. The knowledge made her smile to herself as she remembered the events from earlier that evening…

* * *

_Two hours earlier…_

_**Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey  
**_ _Gumshoe Residence_  
September 5, 2020, 5:30 PM

When the visiting hours at the hospital had ended for the day, Phoenix decided to drop Pearl off to the Gumshoe's residence on his way to work that evening, and then his friend was going to take him to The Borscht Bowl Club right afterward.

"I'd love you to meet Trucy while you're down here, Pearls," Phoenix smiled as he guided her off the elevator. She's a year younger than you, and she's loads of fun. I know you two will be best friends. You'll just adore her!"

Pearl's hands flew to her cheeks with excitement at the news.

"That would be so great, Mr. Nick, to have someone my age to play with while I'm down here in the city!"

"She's been asking me for a new mommy for some time," he laughed. "But since I can't do that right now until Maya gets better, I figured giving her a _sibling_ would be the next best thing! She'll be like a sister to you."

_Yay! And this one can play with me because she's not in jail like my other sister, Iris!_

"I can't wait to meet my new sister!" She couldn't contain her excitement. "I hope she likes the idea of having one!"

"There's just one thing, Pearls," Phoenix sighed, affecting a somber expression. "When you _do_ meet Trucy, you need to understand, you can't tell her about the fact that she's going to be…heck, that she essentially _is_ your sister. She can't know about Maya and I yet, OK? That's got to be a secret for now."

"But _why_?" Pearls cried, chagrined. "I've waited so long for you two to admit you're Special Someones and now you're hiding it!? And from your _daughter_?"

"I'm sorry Pearls," Phoenix said sadly. "But we just can't take the risk of word getting back to Kurain that Maya and I are still seeing each other. Look at what a hard time she's having with the elders as it is. When she gets better, I want her focus to be on recovery, and not have those mean old ladies make her life any harder than it already is. Please try to understand."

_There's no way I'm even mentioning that I also don't want any word of Maya coming to the knowledge of my stalker, either. Why freak out a 10-year-old?_

"Alright, Mr. Nick," Pearl nodded solemnly, her shoulders slumped in disappointment, despite being willing to do whatever was needed to make life easier for her beloved cousin. "I promise I won't say anything."

"You don't need to lie about who _you_ are though," Phoenix assured her as they walked to the Gumshoe's apartment door. Before they knocked, though, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her dejected frame towards him. "Trucy knows I had an assistant before, so there's no need to hide the fact that you're Maya's cousin."

He gently put a finger under her chin and tilted up her downcast face so she could see his affectionate expression.

"You also don't need to hide the fact that I love _you_ just as much as I do Trucy. As if you were my own daughter too, Pearls."

Hearing those poignant words from the only father figure she'd ever known, at a point in her life when she'd never felt more scared and alone, Pearl felt a wave of emotion wash over her just then. With a wordless cry and tears welling up in her eyes, she lurched forward to wrap her arms around Phoenix for one last hug before he had to go.

"I love you too, Mr. Nick," she whispered. "I really, really, do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diana Ross - When We Grow Up


	31. Clandestine Rendezvous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't shake this feeling from my head  
> There's a devil sleeping in my bed  
> Watching you from across the way  
> I cannot make this feeling go away
> 
> I know it's not the right thing  
> And I know it's not the good thing  
> But kinda I want to  
> But kinda I want to
> 
> I'm not sure of what I should do.  
> When every thought I'm thinking of is you  
> All of my excuses turn to lies  
> Maybe God will cover up His eyes
> 
> I know it's not the right thing.  
> And I know it's not the good thing.  
> But kinda I want to, but kinda I want to  
> But kinda I want to  
> But kinda I want to  
> But kinda I want to
> 
> Maybe just for tonight  
> We can pretend it's alright  
> What's the price I pay  
> I don't care what they say  
> I want to  
> I want to  
> (I'll take my chance tonight)

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Legal Office_  
Date and Time Unknown

"How much longer do you think I'm going to put up with this?" Miles demanded harshly. "How much more do you think I can endure having to play second fiddle to that, that _\- blasted man_ , while he remains blissfully ignorant about us, Lana?"

"It's not that easy, Miles." Lana bit her lip, partially in anxiety about the mounting anger she heard building again in his normally smooth, calm tone, and partially because she knew the gesture drove him wild. "I swear I tell him about us. I _will!_ It's just –"

"I am sick and tired of your cowardice and excuses, woman! Is it that you're rather _enjoying_ playing with us both? Or is it that you're relishing and getting off on the idea of having two men fighting over you?" Miles demanded harshly. He advanced towards her, a steely glint in his eye. She instinctively backed away from him, until she found her back pressed against the wall. He stood before her, gripping her arms, forcefully enough to keep her from moving away, but not enough to cause her discomfort. Even so, she blenched slightly at this unexpectedly aggressive side to him.

It was a mistake, a big one. Because he caught the gesture.

_Did she just flinch? She's suddenly **afraid** of me? Unbelievable! Might as well give her something to **really** be afraid of then!_

His eyes narrowed and he pressed her harder against the wall, his fingers now digging painfully into her flesh.

"I told you I will _not_ abide by sharing you with _him_ another moment! How much longer do you think you can keep being such a two-timing, cheating _slut_? When will your ignorable conscience finally cease allowing you to keep deceiving him like this?"

She glared at him, green embers of mounting fury in her eyes.

"Need I remind you, _Prosecutor Edgeworth_ , that you are _still_ my subordinate? You'd be wise to watch the way you speak to me!"

A flash of anger sparked in his stormy gaze but a second later, he had himself under control again.

"Not after hours, I'm not," he murmured silkily, running a free hand into her long caramel tresses. He gripped a handful, firmly but not painfully, and lifted her head so she was forced to look into his vehement expression. "As of _right now_ , you are no longer Chief Skye. It's just you and me – Lana and Miles. Complete equals, my dear."

She saw through his bravado of macho jealousy. And it pained her terribly that she was the cause of the underlying hurt beneath it.

"You're making this so hard, Miles!" She stared up at him with beseeching orbs. "I wish I could do the right thing and just end this! Because then I could just walk away and not care. But you've shown me too much of yourself. I can't pretend that this is just about sex anymore, any more than _you_ can. I have feelings for you! And you can't deny that the reason you're being like this is that _you_ have feelings for _me_ , too."

" _Feelings_?" Charcoal eyes raked her with incredulity. "You know _nothing_ about me, Lana! Nothing at all, _except_ for my body. Have you forgotten who I've been raised and molded after? The indomitable Manfred Von Karma! He's shown me that if I want something, it's _mine_ to have. I go after what I want, and I _always_ get what I want. What I _don't_ take well is when something is _mine_ for the taking and things get _unnecessarily_ difficult."

Lana shook her head, recalling the glimpse of his soul she'd seen the last time they'd made love. She understood him better than he thought. He didn't fool her for a minute with his impassioned speech about how she meant naught to him but an object he yearned to possess.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, unable to yell any longer. "I wish I could make it all undone. This complicated mess I've made of the three of our lives…I wish I could help you understand that it's alright to have emotions, Miles. I wish I could help make you see how hard this is for me."

She closed her eyes. Would she honestly want to wipe any memories of her time with this man from her mind if she could? It took only a second for her heart to find the answer.

"No. I take that back. Us…this whole affair. No matter what happens, Miles, I regret nothing. I wouldn't undo that."

She shut her eyes, bracing herself for the verbal onslaught, negating her words.

But none came. When she opened her eyes, she collided with his heated gaze.

" _Goddammit!_ " He cursed and sank his lips onto hers.

She felt his anger in the way he kissed her, rough, hard as if he wanted to punish her for what she'd said.

His hands let go of her shoulders, then went down to the hem of her skirt. He jerked it up around her waist, then dug his fingers into the waistband of her panties. But instead of simply pulling them down, he tore at the lace fabric and shredded it like it was paper, making her aware that he could tear her body just as easily if he wished.

She gasped into his mouth, both shocked and excited at the same time. Cool air wafted against her naked skin just as he ripped his mouth from hers.

"I tell you how you can help me," he bit out. "By spreading your legs for me."

His eyes still held some of the anger in them that she'd seen there earlier, but now they were glazed with lust, and she knew intuitively that he wouldn't hurt her.

Abruptly she could hold back no longer and she took his hand and placed it against her core. Instantly, he lowered his head so that his mouth and tongue could merge with her own and his fingers started to caress the moist heat between her legs, gently at first, then firmer, harder. She moaned and heard his low, breathless growl. She lost track of time. A minute or an hour, she had no idea. Never before had Lana wanted to touch a man so badly. Her fingers fairly itched to wrap themselves around him, her mouth wanted to know how smooth that rock-hard shaft would be against her tongue.

“I need to taste you, first.” Her hands dropped to the waistband of his trousers. His arousal strained against the seams and it took a long moment to get it open.

She shoved his pants and underwear aside and gasped when his full-length emerged, bobbing and glistening.

"You're beautiful," she whispered. At her words, a drop of pre-come emerged on the tip of his member. Sliding down to her knees, her fingers stroked, squeezed, and explored his entire length.

The thought of having his huge, hard length pumping into her made Lana groan with ecstasy as she sucked him into her mouth, down deep in her throat.

"I want you to taste yourself on my lips, Miles," she rasped. "I want to suck you, swallow every drop of your cum…"

With his erection in her mouth, she felt like a goddess who had just come alive. She'd never wanted to give a man as much pleasure as she did this one, but somehow, at the same time, all she cared about was how good touching him, licking him, sucking him was making her feel. She moved her hands to caress his balls and his cry of ecstasy echoed off the ceiling. He pulsed once, then twice, in her throat.

God, he was delicious.

Before she could do any more, he reached down and pulled her up into his arms. He effortlessly lifted her, spreading her legs wide. She instinctively wrapped them around his waist as he slammed her back into the wall and felt his still-rigid cock pressing tightly against her cleft, the pulse of it hot and needy.

In response, she bucked her hips so that the tip of him slid inside her and she heard his quick intake of breath. His teeth bit down on her lip.

Then, without a word, he plunged into her, harder than ever, making her cry out from the mix of pleasure and pain, but he held her close, whispering sinful things, eating her up. She hooked her fingers into his mouth, he could taste her sweetness on her fingers. Her inner muscles clenched around him as waves of shockingly bright pleasure rocked his body with her every movement.

As he thrust into her damp warmth, he knew what he needed now was to show her that he couldn't be played with. He had to make it clear to her that she would be punished if she kept hurting him like this.

Lana arched to meet his thrusts. _Good Lord_ , she'd forgotten how Miles stretched her when she wasn't used to him. His hardness pushed against her walls, filling her so deeply, she felt tears in her eyes.

_Yes, Yes. I've needed you like this._

"Harder!"

He moved with more force and kissed her, his eyes still open. She didn't close hers, either. Seeing his face while he was inside her overwhelmed her. She grabbed his hair, locked her eyes on his, and kissed him until she had to break away to breathe.

When he looked at her face, he saw how she'd leaned her head back against the wall, her lips parted, and her eyes half-closed.

"More!" Lana panted.

She showed no sign of distress despite his rough handling of her. On the contrary. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist, urging him on to pummel her harder, to go deeper, to take more of her.

Unable to resist, he took her lips again, this time with more passion and less anger. _Christ_ , she tasted good – so good he couldn't imagine ever giving this up, ever giving _her_ up. Despite everything, despite the fact that she was letting another man use her body while still allowing his enjoyment of it as well, she'd held her own when confronted with his fury. She hadn't backed down, just as she didn't flinch now as he drove even harder into her.

"I need you," he mumbled against her lips before he delved his tongue back into her, thrusting it in the same rhythm as his hip undulations.

He wasn't lying this time: he _needed_ her. Desperately so. She gave him the strength to not be afraid of having emotions again after so many years of built-up walls and to face his own personal demons, the ones that had been haunting him since his father's death.

Breathing hard, he released her lips and trailed hot kisses along her neck.

"I _need_ you too, Miles!" She let out, and it sounded like a sob. "I want you and need you so much!"

He looked back at her eyes and saw a multitude of emotions brimming there.

"You have me, Lana," he whispered back and gently captured her lips, stroking his tongue over them.

When she sighed contently, his entire body filled with a newfound sense of strength, and the need to explode overwhelmed him. Unable to hold it back, he brought his hand between them, rubbing and stroking her most sensitive organ as he drove into her one last time. She went over the edge just as he did. His knees nearly buckled as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He wasn't sure where his climax ended and hers began.

Breathing hard, his heart racing, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"No more lies. He needs to know the truth _now_."

She nodded, running her nails down his back as she nipped his jaw.

"Keep moving with me," she gasped, tightening around him with her wet heat. "I think I'm going to come … _again_."

He immediately felt himself hardening once more and swiftly obeyed the command. She felt so damn good. He groaned in rapture.

" _Christ_ , what you do to me, Lana!"

"Oh Miles, _Miles_ …"

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Presidential Suite, Lan Kwai Fong Palace Hotel_  
 _Zheng Fa_  
September 9, 2020, 5:00 AM

_Miles_. _Miles_. The sound reverberated in his mind as he blissfully closed his eyes. Never had his name sounded so glorious.

"Miles?"

He jolted from his reverie with a start upon hearing his name so unexpectedly and nearly lost his balance. Luckily, he fell backward rather than forward, cringing at the heavy thud of the wet marble shower wall against the back of his head.

"Miles?" There was a knock on the bathroom door of the hotel room. "Are you going to be much longer? I need to use the facilities, please!"

"Just a moment, Franziska!" He called back, squeezing his eyes shut in irritation as he felt the warm water cascade down his body, and onto the now deflated erection in his hand. "I'm nearly done!"

_Goddammit, woman! I was so close…_

Miles stifled an angry mutter as he jerked off the faucets and stepped out of the steamy stall, reaching for his plush robe. He wasn't sure at that moment if his feelings of agitation were more directed at his fiancée, or at himself.

_Lana Skye_.

Why was it her memory kept resurfacing in his mind more and more these days?

_And so she thoroughly taught me that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of the body has its secret, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it. She taught me that after a celebration of love the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused._

The first time had been a few weeks ago, when he'd needed to – _release his tension,_ in the shower, as he'd tried unsuccessfully to do now.

* * *

**_You give me the reason.  
You give me control.  
I gave you my Purity.  
My Purity you stole.  
Did you think I wouldn't recognize this compromise.  
Am I just too stupid to realize.  
Stale incense old sweat and lies lies lies_**

* * *

The searing recollection of that time they'd had sex in her office during her Chief Prosecutor days had resulted in him having one of the most intense orgasms of his life. He even remembered the all-too-fitting lyrics of the song that had been playing on the radio in her office at the time.

* * *

**_It comes down to this.  
Your kiss.  
Your fist.  
And your strain.  
It gets under my skin.  
Within.  
Take in the extent of my sin_ **

* * *

He'd been hoping to achieve the same result this time around as he vividly recollected another instance of one of their iniquitous trysts.

* * *

**_You give me the anger.  
You give me the nerve.  
Carry out my sentence.  
While I get what I deserve.  
I'm just an effigy to be disgraced.  
To be defaced.  
Your need for me has been replaced  
And if I can't have everything well then just give me a taste._**

* * *

But alas, to no avail. There would be no satiation from his attempted _ménage a moi_. Franziska's ill-timed interruption had definitely squelched _that_ option!

_Ngh! She should be arrested for **killing** my **erection**!_

He supposed it served him right. Using the mental images of _another woman_ from his past to gratify himself while committing the _sin of self-pollution,_ when he _had_ a sexy, beautiful one in his _present_ , was making him feel like every bit the cheater he'd reproached Lana of being at the time.

Well, what choice did he have? It's wasn't as if he had any recent sexual experience with _Franziska_ to draw upon during these moments! They hadn't made love in _five months_!

Miles raked a hand through his damp hair as he lay back on the bed, staring up at the white ceiling of the luxe hotel room, his body tight with the unspent release.

His sexual dry spell wasn't because of lack of yearning, at least not on _his_ part! Despite his recent steamy trysts that he mentally relived from days of yesteryear between himself and the beguiling Ms. Skye, Miles knew that the only woman who could ever fulfill him _completely_ , sexually and in every way possible, was Franziska. In real-life, she was the only woman, on a _conscious_ level, that he would ever covet for the rest of his days.

His fiancée didn't seem to share his sentiments, however. Lately, whenever he'd tried to instigate some form of intimacy, she'd either claim she was too tired and needed to sleep, or else had been so moody and withdrawn lately that he hadn't dared venture _near_ her!

Hence his extra-long, steamy, rub-a-dub-shower times as of late, with _Palmela Handerson_ and _Rosie Palms_ being his sole lovers these last few months.

He'd had no choice but to _be a_ _man_ and _use his_ _hand_ , simply because his _loofah_ was too rough for _certain_ parts of his anatomy!

Partially to blame were their conflicting schedules, as they were working together but separately on the latest Interpol assignment. Aside from the first couple of months together, the last year had consisted of them working opposing hours. As an International agent, Franziska actually worked round the clock hours with no defined perimeters, whereas Mile, as the investigating prosecutor, would work mostly daytime hours and be done by the evening, at the latest. If he were lucky, he could sometimes catch her while she was prepping herself to get ready for work and they could steal a quickie beforehand.

It'd been how they'd managed to squeeze in some playtime the last time, which had been back in the _springtime_!

Nowadays, he wasn't as fortunate to get to see her before she went to work. More times than not, he would miss her entirely by the time he got back to their suite, or would often be asleep already just as she was getting into bed at the crack of dawn.

_Far be it for **her** to be the one to instigate things and rise **me** awake if the mood were to strike! _Miles thought grumpily. _I'd hardly be making any **objections** to my hot future wife riding me in my sleep!_

He'd decided to rise early and take _his_ hot and bothered self to the solace of the shower, as lately, carnal images of him with Lana were not only plaguing his mind as sexual fantasies but his _dreams_ , as well! He'd woken up that morning, sweating, shaking and as _horny as hell_! Then he'd looked over at Franziska's peaceful, sleeping form, and had decided rubbing one out while she lay in the bed next to him would be in rather poor taste.

It would be unthinkable for _him_ to try to stir things up with _her_ while she was sleeping! A snarling grizzly bear being woken from hibernation was a less terrifying concept than Franziska Von Karma when her beauty sleep was interrupted! Miles had no zero aspirations to receive yet _another_ stinging verbal rebuke, accompanied by a _pillow to the face_ as he had gotten the _last_ time she'd thwarted his advances! His pride was _still_ wounded from that one!

This frigid behavior was _inconceivable_ , coming from the former readily randy woman who less than a year ago, had spontaneously decided to make the two of them the newest members of the mile-high club!

It was a quarter after five in the morning. They were both awake - she was still in the bathroom. He wasn't due for work for another two and a half hours. Why not try to take advantage of this rare opportunity of their _mutually_ conscious, upright state?

Franziska emerged from the loo, yawning. She stumbled towards the king-sized bed, a stunning vision in her satin slip nightie, despite the sleepiness reflected in her gray eyes. His pulse raced at the sight of her. Even with her glossy, shoulder-length, silvery hair slightly disarrayed with bed-head, she still looked delectable to him. And all he could think about was taking her, right here, right now.

Miles lunged for her the moment she got onto the bed, flipping her onto her back and resting his weight on his forearms as he hovered above her, his mouth pressed heatedly on top of hers, stroking his tongue against her sweet lips, demanding entrance.

Franziska returned the fiery kiss for a brief moment, then gently pushed up against his chest as she felt his hardness pressing against her.

"Not now, Miles," she murmured drowsily. "I'm too tired." She caught the look of disappointment in his eyes and reached up to consolingly pat his cheek. "I'm sorry, _Liebling_ , but I'm running 12-hour shifts on maybe four hours of sleep a night! I'll make it up to you, though, OK?" She leaned up, gave him a chaste peck on the lips, and removed his arm. Then she rolled over onto her side and immediately fell back asleep, leaving a _very_ disgruntled and unfulfilled Miles lying there, silently fuming, beside her.

The damn woman had completely cock-blocked him _twice_ now, in a matter of minutes! Both _figuratively_ and now _literally_!

_She'll make it up to me?_ He mentally scoffed. _Right, like I haven't heard **that** a million times before! If I were to start a Christmas fund by putting away a dollar for every time we've made love this year, thus far…she'd be getting a **junior hamburger** , hold the fries!_

_Good Lord_ , the lack of sex was regressing his mindset to one similar to his idiotic, _walking hormone_ of a friend, Larry Butz! Miles was utterly disgusted with himself for his Neanderthal train of thoughts, and vowed to stick with cold showers _posthaste,_ to numb his mind from allowing entrance to any more of them!

He didn't even try to hold back an angry mutter this time as he rose out of bed – there was no point trying to go back to sleep; he was completely awake how. He may as well check some emails before he had to get ready for work, on one of these rare moments that he had to do so. It'd been over a week since he'd done any sort of outside correspondence with the rest of the world. He shut to the bedroom door quietly behind him and walked over to the small study desk in the living room, firing up his laptop as he sat down on the leather, wing-backed chair.

Among the other things he was working on, in his limited downtime, was looking into the matter of the Gavin brothers for Wright, as he'd promised. Franziska had given him a lead last time from her underground probing, and he figured he'd follow up on it.

Pess woke up from her curled spot at the foot of the sofa and plodded over to her daddy, nuzzling up to him by nudging her head against his hand, begging to be petted.

"Ah, Pess, my dear girl," Miles sighed, stroking her silky golden ears. "You're the sole female in this family that will even let me _near_ her anymore, aren't you?"

Pess wagged her trail and dropped her head onto his lap, looking up at him lovingly.

He continued stroking her furry head with his free hand while scrolling through his emails with his other one.

_Nigerian prince offering me his latest monetary windfall…yet another offer to enlarge my manhood **and** extend my erections, both quickly and easily…_He smirked at that one. _Oh please!_ _For all the good **that** would do me!_

Miles scrolled through a few more junk emails that had managed to get past his spam settings, and that was when he finally saw _it._

The breath got caught from his lungs, and he could feel the blood drain from his face. Then, as if in a daze, his mind still reeling, he reached for his phone and began dialing a number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine Inch Nails – Kinda I Want To (Chapter Quote)  
> Nine Inch Nails - Sin


	32. The Way We Were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters to write, as Phoenix and Maya never really had much courtship aside from the brief one I gave them in part one. However, that being said...  
> Warning - spoilers for Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright game!  
> If you haven't played the game, just note that the events that occurred here from the game have no effect on the AA universe (only in my story for the purpose of the Phoenix and Maya SL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again  
> In this smoky place  
> With my brandy eyes  
> I'm talking to myself  
> You were the one  
> You were the one
> 
> Here I go again  
> Looking for your face  
> And I realize  
> That I should look for someone else  
> But you were the one  
> You were the one
> 
> I'm looking for comfort  
> That I can take  
> From someone else  
> But after all  
> I know there is no one  
> That can save me from myself  
> You were the only one
> 
> Me revoici  
> Dans ce bar enfume  
> Avec mes yeux iures  
> Je me parle a moi meme  
> C'etait toi  
> C'etait toi
> 
> Me revoici  
> Cherchant ton visage  
> Et je realise  
> Que je devrais en chercher une autre  
> C'etait toi  
> You were the one
> 
> Je recherche l'affection  
> Qu'une autre pourrait me donner  
> Mais apres tout  
> Je sais qu'il n'y a personne  
> Personne qui puisse me sauver  
> Tu etais la seule
> 
> I'm looking for comfort  
> That I can take  
> From someone else  
> But after all  
> I know there is no one  
> That can save me, save me from myself  
> You were the only one

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey  
_**_Patty Eclaire's Bakery, Labyrinthia  
_April 1, 2018

"Could I please have one loaf of bread?" Asked the stout, middle-aged woman, while stroking her ever-present baby goat which bleated softly in her arms.

"Sure thing!" Maya replied cheerfully, dusting her hands off on her apron and turning from the counter to retrieve the requested item from the bakery shelf. She was almost back with the loaf when Phoenix beat her to the punch, stepping in front of the woman and proudly presenting her the loaf…in customary Phoenix Wright fashion.

" _Take that_!"

"Ack!" The startled woman, whose name was Mary, nearly dropped her pet and clasped a hand to her ample bosom in fright as the loaf was suddenly slammed down in front of her. A thick cloud of flour went flying into the air, making both Maya and poor Mary lapse into a small coughing frenzy.

Phoenix, oblivious to what he'd just done, smiled proudly and pointed his famous courtroom finger at Mary, going right into his well-rehearsed spiel.

"Our bakery uses only the finest ingredients! Upper crust goods for not much dough!"

"What in the world?" Gasped Mary, still shaken.

Maya was mortified.

"May I please apologize on his behalf?" She smiled benignly at the customer. "He's still…training. This is Nick, my assistant baker."

Phoenix beamed at Mary, pointer finger still in mid-air.

"Our bakery only uses the finest walnuts! You'll go _nuts_ for our walnut bread!"

"How many times do I gotta tell you, Nick?" She glared at him. "You're supposed to say _, here's your order_!"

"Forget the bread!" The shaken Mary exclaimed, clutching her goat to her chest and spinning around on her heel. "I'm _out_ of here! There must be a normal baker _somewhere_ in this godforsaken town!"

Maya groaned and facepalmed, then turned to back Phoenix, her cheeks puffed out with annoyance, fists raised to chest level as she looked sternly at him.

"Bad Nick! _Bad!_ You can't shout at customers like that! The boss will be all over you like butter on toast!"

"Oh, that's right! I forgot!" He thoughtfully put his finger to his chin, then affected a sheepish grin. "I don't _why_ but I just get the urge to point and shout like that sometimes!"

"That's the _third_ customer we've lost this week! And it's only _Tuesday_!" Maya shook her head in despair.

"Ugh!" Phoenix's shoulders slumped, and beads of sweat formed on his brow. Suddenly, he straightened, as if something had just occurred to him, and he scowled. "Hey! How come _I'm_ the assistant?"

"Because unlike _certain_ people around here, _I_ can bake bread without nearly setting my hair on fire!" Maya shot back with an impish grin. "Which I can only assume is due to whatever  
gravity-defying concoction you need to put in your hair to get it to stay up?"

"They only have _one_ thing here that comes _close_ to holding my hair in place! But it smells weird – _and_ attracts insects!" He sulked. "I've been using this homemade pomade from the marketplace to make do for my 'do. It's made of beeswax, olive oil, and coconut oil."

"That's a lot of oil! No _wonder_ you've been so flammable!" She teased. "Should we just throw your head on a pan next time we need to fry something, grease ball?"

"I'm two seconds away from telling you _exactly_ where you can stick your next batch of loaves, Maya!" Phoenix huffed, then resumed his abandoned task of kneading the dough. His knuckles dug so deeply into the soft mixture that he tore holes into it. Grunting frustration, he grabbed the gooey glob, quickly rolled it into a large ball in his hands, and slammed it back onto the floury counter.

" _Take that!"_ He stated, to no one in particular.

Maya watched this with barely concealed mirth.

"Easy there, big guy!" She admonished. "You're supposed to be _kneading_ the dough, not _pounding_ it!"

He glowered at her and opted to ignore her ribbing, focusing back on the daunting mission before him, while still using the same forceful technique.

"For Pete's sake Nick, you're _kneading_ it, not having _sex_ with it!" Maya giggled, her dark eyes twinkling mischievously.

He stopped abruptly and glowered at her.

" _What?!"_

"You heard me. Why so rough?" She jibed, arching an eyebrow. "Imagine that dough is a woman's breasts…is _that_ how you'd go about kneading, or rather, _massaging_ them?"

Phoenix felt his face turning bright red. He wasn't about to get into a loaded conversation about his bedroom prowess while handling baked goods. And _especially_ not with Maya Fey!

"Shall I take your silence as assent that your treatment of that poor dough is _indeed_ identical to your manhandling of the fairer sex?" The brunette appeared to be enjoying his obvious discomfort. She shook her head in mock sadness, then affected her best Mr. T voice. "Well then, _I pity the fool_ who gets into bed with you, Wright!"

"My God, will you _please_ shut up, Maya!" The baker exclaimed, his face now so hot he was sure his head was going to explode. "For your kind information, I happen to know _very well_ what I'm doing here! In _and_ out of the bedroom, if you must know!"

"Oh _really_?" Maya derided, shooting him a wicked grin as she sauntered over to him. "Is that so? Well, regardless of your alleged masterful _handiwork_ in the sack, I'm not seeing any _evidence_ of applicable handiness _here_ at all! You'd think after five years of doing this job, you'd no longer need my extreme tutelage! However, it appears you're getting complacent, Mr. Wright."

Without warning, she came and stood behind him. Phoenix nearly jumped at the startling sensation of her tiny, firm body pushing against him, her soft breasts pressing tightly against his back. She reached around him and placed her small hands over his, allowing him to admire the contrast of her pale, graceful hands against his tanned, larger ones before she moved them aside and placed her palms onto the dough.

"Watch me," she instructed, expertly folding the messy glob he'd been working on, and then gently, but steadily, kneading the dough with her dainty, agile fingers. "Do you see what I'm trying to do here?"

_Besides give me a complete woody underneath this damn apron, where I hope and pray it's well hidden?_

The baker couldn't believe the effect the innocuous contact with Maya was having on his body, on his _psyche_. But the intoxicating scent of her vanilla perfume, coupled with the heated feel of her lush curves pressed against him, along with the satiny smoothness of her bare skin brushing against his forearms as she worked that dough into a frenzy… made _him_ long to work _her body_ into one as well! Not to mention bloody well _prove_ to her that he handled the female form _just as well_ as he could that damn dough, if not _better_!

This was crazy. She was his assistant! Or rather, _he_ was _hers_ …in this bakery, if nowhere else! It was _obscene_ , these lewd thoughts he was having about her. What the _hell_ was the matter with him?!

Phoenix gruffly cleared his throat.

"OK, you can move now, Maya, I think I got this now."

She shook her head stubbornly.

"I don't know if you do. How about if I come around and stand in _front_ of you and have you place your hands over mine…"

His eyes widened in panic. He could just imagine the hay-day Maya would have if she were to step before him right now and took notice of his arousal. _"Hey Nick, is that a loaf of bread in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"_

_"No!"_ He yelped, feeling beads of sweat forming at his temples again. "Er, I mean, I'm fine. Really! You should um, go take that next batch out of the oven or something…"

Suddenly the bells over the door chimed, indicating someone had entered the bakery. Phoenix felt his shoulders sag with relief.

_Saved by the bell! Literally!_

"Ah… Professor, it's the smell of freshly baked bread!" A young boy's voice, with a distinctly British accent, exclaimed.

"Indeed Luke. It's certainly whetting my appetite," replied a pleasant male's voice, with the same unmistakable English intonation.

"I bet the staff here are really talented!" Luke enthused.

Phoenix took the convenient appearance of these customers saving his bacon – and thus preventing further embarrassment by his horny adolescent reactions – as a sign from the heavens.

"Welcome!" He boomed, slapping his hands on the counter and creating a heavy gust of flying flour everywhere as he did so. Both actions were apparently done with a tad more force than he'd intended, as it resulted in the gentleman and boy jumping slightly, while both clutching their respective top hat and newsboy cap as if to prevent them from flying off their heads.

Phoenix all but raced to the door – and away from Maya – to meet his guests as fast as his legs would carry him, and went into his practiced routine, courtroom pointed finger extended in readiness.

"Our bakery uses only the finest ingredients! Upper crust goods for not much dough!"

"And thus vanquished are all my previous lessons and lectures, up in a white poufy cloud!" He heard Maya mutter. " _Here we go again_ …"

* * *

> " _If you're determined to face death, then you'll find a way to live."_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright  
_**_Rouge's Tavern, Labyrinthia  
_April 2, 2018

"Maya! Nooo!"

Phoenix jerked up on the hard wooden bed, drenched in sweat, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest, he was actually worried it would awaken Luke and Espella in the bunks above him. Luckily, however, neither his sudden jolt nor muffled cry had stirred the children whatsoever; he could tell from the deep, labored breathing from the bunks above him that they were still sound asleep.

How he envied them. Despite his mentally drained mental and beyond the fatigued physical state, sleep completely eluded _him_.

Because every time he closed his eyes, he was drawn back into the same horrifying nightmare his mind would not allow him to reprieve from, even in slumber. Asleep or awake, it didn't matter. There was no escaping the horrible actuality.

Maya was gone. That was reality. Everything else up until then had been one gigantic mind cluster-fuck.

Phoenix still hadn't been wrap his head around the series of unfortunate events that had brought him to this medieval British town, and into this dank tavern, where he and his friends were now sequestered into hiding, targets of the unrelenting, pursuing village knights.

His last conscious memory before arrival in Europe was that he and Maya had decided to participate in the League of Attorney Exchange program to see the different legal systems abroad. The excursion had taken them to England. After suffering the horrible kidnapping ordeal at the hands of Shelly de Killer, Phoenix had had no issues with Maya tagging along on the trip. It was the _least_ he could do for the bubbly, vibrant girl-child who had nestled her way into his heart. He'd always felt a special fondness for the Chief's baby sister, but those feelings of friendly affection had steadily been blossoming into something quite different when Maya had been abducted. Something _more_.

Something he yet couldn't, and wasn't _quite_ _ready,_ to investigate or identify further. But all he understood was that when she'd been gone during the Engarde trial, it had been the longest three days _of his life_. A part of him had felt like it was missing, _dead_. Maya was more than just his assistant – she'd become his friend. His _best_ friend. She was the person closest to him in the entire world, and life had ceased to have meaning for him until that day had come when she'd been safely returned to his side.

He'd been so happy about going away on this trip with her. It was a chance to soak up some culture and spend some time together outside the office. A getaway from the everyday. An escape from LA, where crime and danger loomed. What could possibly go awry on a trip to merry ol' England?

A whole lot, it seemed.

Phoenix couldn't remember how he and Maya had wound up in this tiny village where life was lived in the manner of the days of yore. He had no recollection of even coming to Labyrinthia, beyond being sucked into a strange book left behind by the mysterious Espella Cantabella, as if by magic.

After that, it was as if he'd been lobotomized and had had recollections embedded into his brain, as though he were the lab experiment of an evil mad scientist. False reminisces had been somehow placed into his mind, via some invasive magic spell, convincing him he had spent five years living in this fantasy world with a girl he had only known for _two_ , as a baker in the tiny village of Labyrinthia.

For a man who'd suddenly been dragged into the mystical paranormal world of ghosts and spirit channeling two years ago, _magic_ wasn't _that_ much of a stretch!

The implanted recalls and the backstories had been counterfeit visions, but the emotions he'd felt for the lovely young woman at his side had remained. The feelings invoked that had stirred within him as Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney, had been identical to those of Phoenix Wright, Ace Baker.

For instance, the spell hadn't been able to erase the pleasure he got from the familiar, sweet scent of her. The racing of his pulse whenever their bodies would have even the most innocent contact, such as their hands brushing when they simultaneously reached for the last piece of bread in the basket. The endeared amusement he felt watching her staring as if mesmerized, at the knights in their metal suits of armor whenever they would practice their defense and joust moves in Town Square because it seemed to remind her of _something_ …that she _evidently_ liked to watch, very much…

Then there were the more poignant emotions that swept over him, identical to the ones he'd felt in LA, just in different scenarios: the feelings of achievement and pride when they'd first created those golden loaves of perfection; the calm serene peacefulness he'd felt sitting with her at the dinner table, _literally_ breaking bread together; the blissful happiness he'd felt when she would cozy up next to him on the living room rug afterward, drawing warmth from the roaring fireplace as well as the closeness of her body.

There was no point in denying it anymore. Somehow, with Maya gone, quelling feelings that had been burgeoning for years made no sense now. There wasn't a single soul on the planet who had meant more to him than Maya Fey. Phoenix, at last, acknowledged what he'd long since been denying, not only to the world but to himself: he was in love with her. And despite coming to this mystical town, with his memories erased, and new ones put in their place, he'd fallen in love with her all over again.

_That_ had been real, even though every other occurrence was fake.

Tragically, Maya's untimely demise wasn't one of them.

In his mind's eye, the horrific scene played out in front of him, over and over again, like a film stuck in rewind mode.

Phoenix could feel his hapless, impotent struggles against the merciless knights clamoring on top of him, preventing him from rescuing the helpless girl trapped in that steel cage, her eyes wide with panic as she felt the scorching heat of the fiery pit of hell beneath her. All the while, he had been forced to watch. Watch alongside the jeering, cheering masses who sought to spectate this as their sick form of entertainment. Of _justice_.

_"Help me, Nick!" She'd screamed, just before the steel contraption had dropped the cherished treasure that Mia had left him, right into_ the relentless, surging flames that greedily engulfed their victim.

Those had been her last words. The final words out of the mouth of his beloved Maya, who'd been no longer a girl, but not yet a woman. Still just a teenager. 19-years-old. Just over two weeks away from her 20th birthday.

_She trusted me, she had faith in me. She believed that I could save her like I always had before. But I let her down. I failed her._ Phoenix clenched his jaw and stifled back a sob. _I let her die!_

"NO!" He'd frantically cried out to the uncaring and ruthless knights who had pulled the lever, sealing Maya's fate. "You've got to stop! Maya! Nooooo!"

A soft whimper escaped his lips. He rose from the bed and bit his fist to muffle the sound, quietly creeping to the doorway leading to the upper-level hall above the tavern, where he could hopefully cry his heart out without awaking his two companions.

"Mr. Wright?" A voice whispered softly.

Phoenix whirled around, startled. There in the shadows of the darkroom, with only the beam of the moon streaming through the windows as brightness, stood Espella.

"Espella," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright," the pretty teen smiled gently. "I know how hard today was for you…believe me, I wish I'd taken Rouge up on her offer to slip some of that laudanum into my milk before bed like she did for Luke!"

Phoenix turned his head in the direction of the upper bunks that Espella had come down from. "She _drugged_ Luke?"

"It's only a mild sleeping sedative we use sometimes for insomnia," she explained. "So he's out like a light. He needed it. He hasn't been sleeping much…has been suffering from nightmares since you know…he saw the Professor…"

Phoenix nodded and tried to pull himself together. He couldn't be so selfish in his grief. He had to stay strong for these kids. After all, Maya had sacrificed her life so Espella could live. That had to be quite the heavy cross to bear for a 16-year-old girl. And her mentioning the death of the dear Professor was a painful reminder to him that he wasn't the only one who had lost someone close to him.

"Right. Well, I'm glad he's resting. He's a growing boy, he needs it."

"So do _you_ , Mr. Wright," Espella said quietly. "You'll need your strength, and you can't do that without any rest."

"I'm exhausted," he admitted. "But I can't keep my eyes shut! I just – feel so hopeless! I need to protect Luke! And protect _you_! You're in an even deeper a mess than you were before, now that you're a fugitive! But I'm so scared, Espella. I'm terrified that I'm going to fail you _both_ , the way I failed to protect Maya."

"Mr. Wright, please stop doing this to yourself. This wasn't your fault!"

"But Espella, if only I'd moved faster, and gotten to her sooner…"

The blonde shook her head, her flaxen braids swinging around her ethereal, porcelain face.

"Maya told me you've been her knight in shining armor in the past, but ultimately today, you were up against _real_ knights…and grossly outnumbered. There was nothing you could have done."

She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"Blaming yourself for Maya's death won't bring her back, Mr. Wright. And she never would have wanted you beating yourself up this way. She cared about you too much. Just the same way I know _you_ …cared about her."

Phoenix didn't miss the slight pause before she'd finished the sentence. Espella _knew_. Everyone who saw them together appeared to, so it seemed. No matter how much he'd tried to hide it, and make excuses, he'd never fooled anybody else, any more than he'd ever fooled himself.

His voice broke.

"…I – I never told her."

Espella's smile was warm and kind as she regarded him with a knowing look.

"I think she knew."

He stared at her, hopeful but uncertain.

"What makes you say that?"

"Women's intuition. But also because I've seen you two together, and I've honestly never seen two people who loved each other more. I'm certain that Maya recognized that you loved her, Mr. Wright…even if she didn't quite get the depth of _how much_. But more importantly, just know that she loved _you_ as well. And cherish that memory always, to give you the strength to get you through all this."

The British lass now wore a sympathetic expression as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

"You have to move past all this self-blame. Pain can only persist in the absence of acceptance and forgiveness. The past can only guide you. You must not allow it to lead you. Go gently embrace your destiny and look forward to the promise of a better tomorrow."

The sage advice hit home hard. Swallowing hard, he nodded bravely.

How was it that a young girl was wiser than _he_ was? Phoenix wondered. But while he fervently hoped Espella was right, he couldn't help but wonder … _had_ Maya truly known how he'd felt about her? Hell, _he_ hadn't even known! Not until it was too late.

He'd never taken the opportunity to vow to Maya Fey that he was going to love her for the rest of her life. But he swore from that day onward, that he would go on loving her for the rest of _his_.

* * *

> _"You never stop loving someone, and if you do, you probably never loved them at all. Life is all about the unexpected changes, the happy moments, and making the best of every situation."_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
_Underground Witch's Cavern, Labyrinthia  
_April 4, 2018

"Professor!" Phoenix exclaimed, filled simultaneously with both shock and joy. "You're alright! He looked at the top-hatted gentleman hopefully. "Um, Professor, what about Maya? I…um…thought I heard her voice too?"

"Ah, yes," Layton smiled. "Not to worry Mr. Wright. Rest assured, Miss Fey is just –"

At that precise moment, Maya herself bounced in, as if from nowhere, and in full-stereo.

"Yoooo Niiiiiick!"

Phoenix jumped, startled. He gaped at the woman standing before him, hoping his eyes weren't deceiving him.

"Hey, Nick?" Maya's eyes held their familiar playful sparkle as she grinned at him. " _Niiiiccck_!"

_Well, my **ears** definitely aren't, anyway…_

"M-Maya?" He whispered, still in disbelief. "Am I _dreaming_? Or is it really you?"

"Yup, yup!" Maya smiled gleefully and clasped her hands together as if in prayer. "The professor and I are as real as real can be!"

_How can she look so carefree and merry?! Doesn't she know what utter and complete **hell** I've gone through when I thought she was gone forever? How in God's name can she be so… blasé about this all? Well never mind, **two** can play at that game then!_

"You have no idea how relieved I am. Really." His tone was uncharacteristically calm as he coolly placed a hand on his hip and rearranged his expression of stunned incredulity into one of more neutrally pleased relief. "I've never been so happy to see you!"

As if seeing through his façade, the psychic’s cheerful demeanor faded, and tears formed in her eyes.  
  
"I uh, I'm really sorry Nick. You must have been worried sick.” She dropped her eyes guiltily, as if no longer able to meet his. It's just…I wanted to do something to help Espella, you know?"

Now it was _his_ turn to be shame-faced. Why on earth had he been putting on this ridiculous pretense in the first place? Maya, _his Maya_ was alive! _Nothing_ else mattered!

"No, no, it's not your fault, Maya. It's _mine_!" He cried, desperately hoping his eyes conveyed the words his lips wouldn't allow him to speak. "If only I'd helped you sooner, none of this would have happened…and you wouldn't have been dropped into that pit of fire!"

Maya's lip quivered as she looked at him, her eyes still glistening with tears. "I, I thought I'd never see you again, Nick." She sniffled. "I…I'm really sorry!"

Phoenix felt his heart lurch at the anguish on her lovely face. He wasn't even sure what either of them was apologizing for anymore. But for _him_ , it was easier than saying what was in his heart at that moment. Was it the same way for her as well?

He peered searchingly into her eyes, looking for answers to things that Maya possibly was unaware were even questions! The only thing _he_ could grasp was at that moment, more than anything in the world, all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and –

"Come now," Layton interjected smoothly. "Everyone did the best they could."

Phoenix and Maya both jumped at the sound of his voice. They'd been so transfixed in each other's gazes, they'd completely forgotten they weren't alone – in fact, they had a full audience witnessing their reunion; Luke, Layton, _and_ Espella!

They both hastily agreed with the words of wisdom and platitudes Layton went on to say, but deep down, Phoenix's thoughts still drifted back to the same premise – the whole how to let her know/did she know his true feelings.

There was so much he needed to say to Maya. So much she needed to _hear_. But it wouldn't be now. At this moment, the timing just wasn't right. But he recognized that somewhere, somehow, _someday_ down the line, they would both know when that time had come.

" _The real world is not about happy endings. It's about taking the life you have and fighting like hell to keep it."_

He hoped that day would come soon. Because he had no idea how he'd ever go on if he lost her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy Joel – C'Etait Toi (You Were the One)


	33. I Need You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memories light the corners of my mind  
> Misty water-colored memories of the way we were  
> Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind  
> Smiles we gave to one another for the way we were
> 
> Can it be that it was all so simple then  
> Or has time rewritten every line  
> If we had the chance to do it all again  
> Tell me, would we?  
> Could we?
> 
> Memories may be beautiful and yet  
> What's too painful to remember  
> We simply choose to forget  
> So it's the laughter we will remember  
> Whenever we remember  
> The way we were  
> The way we were

**_Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020, 5:00 PM

Since the day she'd been admitted, as soon as Trucy had left for school, Phoenix and Pearl, who'd been staying with him during the daytime before work and at the Gumshoe's in the evening, had set off to the hospital to sit vigil with Maya.

Phoenix sat quietly in the chair next to his silent, unmoving girlfriend on the hospital bed, tightly squeezing her tiny hand in both of his as he silently prayed to whatever God was listening, for his Maya to come back to him, as she had all those other times.

Despite Mia's reassurance that he wasn't at fault, he still couldn't help but lament about how he wished he'd allowed her to visit with him instead of being so absorbed with his own issues and obsessive paranoia!

Now that he'd finally gotten the chance to see her, it may have been too late.

"I missed you," he whispered brokenly, bringing her icy hand to his lips. "I should have invited you to visit. I'm sorry my love, I'm so, so sorry. Please don't leave me. I'm begging you, _please_ come back to me!"

Looking down at her slumbering form, he realized how intensely he'd missed her. He always did, he finally acknowledged. Even during the days when she'd only been his assistant, he'd always been an empty shell whenever she hadn't been around; a depressed wreck of a man, quite frankly.

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the cool metal bed-frame, lost in his Maya-fueled flashbacks.

In all the years he'd known Maya Fey, he'd loved her for half of them. More than that, really, if he was honest with himself. As he recalled the incidents that had occurred abroad when they'd traveled for the League of Attorney Exchange, he mentally reprimanded himself for yet another opportunity that had passed him when he'd been too gutless to admit how he'd felt about her, how much she'd meant to him.

"I was such a coward, my love. Despite all the instances that you were nearly lost, I still didn't take that as a sign to let you know how much I loved you! Somehow, I could never admit exactly how much you meant to me when you were there to see, even though everyone around us could! For the longest time, I couldn't even admit it to _myself_."

Three times. He'd almost lost the woman he loved _three bloody times_ if you added the Witch Trial in Labyrinthia to the Engarde and Hazakura incidents. Was fate going to play a cruel game of baseball with him now? Three strikes and he was out? The fourth time _wasn't_ the charm?

Three days had passed since she'd been admitted, and though Maya's physical condition improved, she still showed no signs of waking.

Poor Pearl had been a wreck that day when he'd brought her in. During her last torrent of tears, a few moments ago, one of the kindly orderlies had taken the distraught child under her wing and offered to see if she could sneak Pearl some custard from the staff kitchen. That had given him a few minutes alone with Maya to freely speak his mind to her, in hopes that she could hear him.

For the three days since her arrival at the hospital, Maya's twilight world was bombarded with both bitter and sweet memories.

Phoenix continued pouring out his love and thoughts to her, realizing how much he'd missed talking to her and discovering that though she may not actually hear him, he would have no regrets at all if she had. Their relationship had transcended the petty issues which had inspired his distancing, he understood that now.

"Forgive me, Maya. I'm sorry I pushed you away after I got disbarred – and how I've kept you at arm's length since, all because of my underlying thought that I wasn't good enough for you, that you would reject me, the hobo bum that I became. How could I have underestimated you that way? I was so stupid not to realize that _you're_ the hope that moves me to courage again."

His voice trembled with emotion.

"I realize that you would never reject me. Even now, with a whole village against you, telling you to sever ties with me, you still prove your steadfast loyalty is _always_ to me. It's _me_ who's been keeping us apart. I swear, I thought it was for a greater good…not because I didn't want you by my side. Never that. You're a part of me. When it comes to loving you, you're my only reason, you're my only truth."

A tear rolled down his face as he softly stroked her pale cheek.

"I'm so sorry I didn't fight harder to keep you by my side where you belonged, where you were happiest. I will try to move heaven and earth to make sure we can be together more often, if only you come back to me. You told me that day in Kurain, that _you_ needed _me_ , too. And Maya, I need _you_! Like water, like breath, like rain!"

"Mr. Nick?"

His head jerked up, and he looked hopefully at the figure on the bed but found Maya still lying there with her eyes closed.

"Mr. Nick, it's me."

Pearl had returned to the room, calmer now, and with drier eyes. She'd slipped back to the bedside so silently he hadn't even noticed.

"Hi, Pearls." Phoenix swallowed back his disappointment and forced a smile for the little girl's benefit. "Did the nice lady get you some custard?"

Pearl nodded.

"It was vanilla and very yummy."

"That was very nice of her."

"Yes." She nodded again. "Normally it's one visitor at a time, but I didn't want you to have to leave, so I snuck back in."

She grinned as she gestured to the hospital gown she was wearing.

"I swiped this off one of the trolleys in the hall. I thought maybe I'd be less noticeable in this than my robe."

Phoenix chuckled at the sight of the tiny spirit medium in the oversized blue gown which completely hid her hands and arms and trailed to the floor. All he could see was her sweet face.

"Yup, you definitely blend in with the rest of the patients now, Pearls."

He turned back to Maya, not caring if Pearl heard the next words he was going to say as he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Pearls is here with me now, and she needs you and loves you as much as I do. Please come back Maya, for the _both_ of us."

"We love you, Mystic Maya," Pearls whispered, clutching her cousin's hand.

"Nick..." murmured Maya sleepily. "Pearly…"

"Huh?"

Phoenix blinked and his eyes widened as he looked down at the figure on the bed, praying his eyes weren't deceiving him. He stared at the little girl, uncertain if she'd heard what he had, or if it was wishful thinking. The child's eyes were also transfixed on the bed.

Maya's eyelids slowly slid open. An expression of utter bewilderment rapidly crossed her face.

"Mystic Maya, you're awake!" Pearl cried, bouncing up and down in excitement. "You woke up for your Special Someone! His kiss of love brought you back to us!"

Maya's head slowly turned, her disorientated eyes taking in the sight of the people who mattered the most to her in the world, her expression now showing signs of recognition mingled with confusion.

"Nick? Pearly?" She struggled to sit up. "What –?"

"You're at the hospital," explained Pearl. "We've been so worried!"

"You collapsed unconscious at Hazakura Temple," Phoenix added. "Thank heavens you came back to us!"

"No!" The patient looked panicked now. "No, I need to finish that Special Course!" In desperation she lurched into a sitting position, only to have her continued ill-health immediately collapse her back to the bed. Defeated, she groaned, "I can't fail my mother!"

"Maya, it's okay now," the hobo soothed, stroking her hair. "You've been very sick. Please don't worry about it."

Exhausted, the Master could only lie back against her pillow, eyes wearily drifting closed although the stubborn tilt of her chin remained.

"You don't _get it_ , Nick! I've _got_ to do this. I've got to get out of here!"

Phoenix looked helplessly at Pearl. Maya was right, he _didn't_ get it…any more than he knew what on earth to say to get through to his obstinate, strong-willed girlfriend. He was absolutely certain that as soon as visiting hours were over in an hour, and he had to leave to go to work, Maya would stagger, and _crawl_ if necessary, even in her still-weakened state, to sign herself out of that hospital and continue on the same destructive, over-exerting path she'd been spiraling on. And there would be absolutely _nothing_ he could do to stop her!

"Pearls," he pleaded. "Please… _do_ something! _You_ try to reason with her!"

"Pearly," Maya swung desperate eyes to her cousin. "You understand, don't you? I need to finish my course! I'm the Master! It's my duty! _You_ tell him for me!"

Pearl bit her thumb as she looked at Phoenix with troubled eyes, shaking her head.

"She wouldn't listen to _me_ either, Mr. Nick." Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "But I know who she _will_ listen to!"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Mia Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020, 5:15 PM

Phoenix watched as Pearl closed her eyes and appeared to be shimmering slightly before filling her loose-fitting outfit with a much older, shapelier woman.

Mia looked around her, wide-eyed and slightly dumbfounded, as usual, from the channeling. She then glanced down at her surprisingly covered frontal region, clad in a hospital gown, which fit her much better than anything she'd ever worn when previously summoned, and gasped.

"Phoenix! Should I be happy that I'm covered up _for once_?" She asked dryly, putting a hand to her face and tapping her cheek with her index finger. "Or should I be _worried_ that something happened to Pearly?"

"Sis!" Maya cried ecstatically, her arms upward.

Mia looked down at the hospital bed then, and her eyes welled up slightly at seeing her sister awake at last. She leaned down and wrapped her arms tightly around Maya, hugging her close, as though she never wanted to let her go.

"Maya, thank God you've come back to us," Mia breathed, the relief evident in her voice. "I was so worried!" She stroked her sister's hair back from her face and smiled lovingly.

Phoenix watched the two sisters hug, a lump in his throat. Few things brought him greater pleasure than seeing his Maya happy, and Mia's visits were always a joy to behold, even at precarious moments such as these.

However, he knew Maya wasn't going to be happy for long once he did what he was about to do. Nevertheless, it was his way of atoning for how he'd failed to save her back in Labyrinthia two and a half years ago. He was going to be successful in his endeavors _this_ time around, even if it meant doing _whatever_ _it took_ to save her.

This time, from _herself_.

Phoenix finally spoke, his expression grim.

"You should be more worried _now_ , Chief. It seems despite the miracle of being brought back to life, my tenacious little _engine that could_ is hell-bent on busting out of here ASAP to resume the activities that brought her here in the first place!"

" _Nick_!" Maya wailed plaintively, tearing herself from Mia's embrace and turning to look at him with an expression of utmost anger and betrayal. "How _could_ you!"

Mia crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side as she looked down at Maya, her tender expression suddenly weary.

" _Is that so_ , Maya?"

"Sis, you don't know what's been going on!" Maya protested. "It's not like he's saying at _all_!"

"Oh I know _very_ well what's been going on, little sis," Mia stated firmly, in a voice to be reckoned with. "This may be _your_ first time seeing me in a while, but believe you me, this _isn't_ my first visit. Phoenix, with the help of Pearly, has kept me up to speed on _everything_ that's been going on. You and me, Maya …we need to have _a little talk_."

Maya puffed out her cheeks in exasperation.

"Fine then!" She pouted, already knowing full well that unlike with her pushover boyfriend, there was no way she was about to win any sort of battle of wills against her revered older sister. "Say what you will!"

There was a tense silence in the room.

At that moment, Phoenix's phone rang, the loud _Steel Samurai_ ring tone echoing loudly in the sudden tension-filled atmosphere. He hastily answered, not even checking to see who it was; he was just grateful to be granted the opportunity to get a reprieve from his girlfriend's icy glare in his direction.

"H – hello?" He said timidly, turning away slightly but still keeping sight of the two siblings from the corner of his eye.

His jaw dropped when he heard the voice on the other end of the line, and his eyes were the size of saucers as he looked at Mia and Maya, then slowly began backing out the room.

"I'll leave you to your chat, lovely ladies. I – I _have_ to take this call."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barbra Streisand – The Way We Were


	34. Turnabout Sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I think back on these times  
> And the dreams we left behind  
> I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed  
> To get to have you in my life
> 
> When I think back on these days  
> I'll look and see your face  
> You were right there for me
> 
> In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky  
> In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life  
> I'll keep a part of you with me  
> And everywhere I am there you'll be  
> And everywhere I am there you'll be
> 
> Well, you showed me how it feels  
> To have the sky within my reach  
> And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me  
> Your love made me make it through  
> Oh, I owe so much to you  
> You were right there for me
> 
> In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky  
> In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life  
> I'll keep a part of you with me  
> And everywhere I am there you'll be
> 
> Cause I always saw in you my life, my strength  
> And I want to thank you now for all the ways  
> You were right there for me  
> You were right there for me  
> Always
> 
> In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky  
> In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life  
> I'll keep a part of you with me  
> And everywhere I am there you'll be  
> And everywhere I am there you'll be
> 
> There you'll be

**_Maya Fey and Mia Fey  
_** _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020, 5:00 PM

There was a weighty pause in the room as the Fey sisters stared after Phoenix, both confused and slightly concerned about his impromptu hasty retreat.

The patient was the first to speak, seizing the opportunity to delay the inevitable lecture she was about to receive, thanks to her boyfriend, The Big Mouth! She still couldn't believe he'd _tattled_ on her to Mia! As if she were some _recalcitrant child_ who needed discipline, rather than a _grown woman_ , who oversaw a whole village!

On the other hand, though, from the recesses of her mind, Maya could vaguely remember faint snippets of the loving things Nick had whispered to her while she'd been unconscious. Apparently, all the while she'd been comatose, he'd remained devotedly by her side – ergo, who in Richard the Lionheart's trousers could've called and possessed the power to tear her dedicated swain away from her? Especially in such a hasty and abrupt manner?

"I hope everything's all right and nothing happened to Trucy or something…" The Master murmured, her fingers grazing her lips, as though lost in thought. "He sure took off like a bat out of hell when he got that phone call!"

"Maybe it was an emergency call from work?" Mia suggested. " _Or_ …" she flashed a wry grin. "He may have just been grateful for the opportunity to escape that _death glare_ you shot him when he told me your completely nonsensical plans to try to leave this place already!"

"That rat fink snitch is supposed to be my _boyfriend!"_ The ebony-haired girl pouted, crossing her arms across her chest. "He's supposed to be on _my_ side and support me, as well as my decisions, not _narc_ on me to my big sister!"

Mia raised an eyebrow in a derisive semaphore at her kinswoman.

"Sometimes to protect the people you love, you must hurt them, Maya. Did you really expect Phoenix to stand by idly and do _nothing_ when his girlfriend's said decisions are completely _harebrained_ , not to mention _moronic_?"

The psychic flushed at the reprimand, mild though it'd been – thus far.

" _Siiiiiis_ …" She whined. "Don't talk to me like I'm _five_ and don't know what I'm doing! This isn't about just _me_ …it's about being the best Master I can be! How much did Nick tell you about what's been going on in Kurain?"

"Enough, sweetie, enough." Mia tenderly brushed a stray strand of hair out of her baby sister's eyes. "I know a lot of this has to do with Mom – how you're trying to prove something to the elders because of what happened with her, and that you don't want to let her down. But _Maya_ ," her tone softened. "You can't keep doing this to yourself! Our mother didn't sacrifice herself only to have you literally kill yourself and join us in the afterlife amidst your attempts at trying to follow in her footsteps!"

The necromancer was immensely touched by Mia's perceptible faith in her; that she'd preserved the belief that Maya's performance as Kurain Master could be suitably acceptable.

"I don't think I'm the type of person Mom thought she was saving," she admitted miserably, her shoulders dropping, her downcast gaze on her lap. "She didn't even _know_ me."

Mia shook her head.

"Any mother in the world would have done the same thing had her child's life been at stake. She must have known _something_. She knew that she loved you. I think _that's_ why she saved you. Not because she wanted you to be a prodigious Kurain Master."

"I'm not very good though, Sis. Not like _you_ were. Not like Pearly, who channeling comes to as naturally as breathing!" Maya cried. " _That's_ why I was trying so hard! But I feel as if I'm living a gigantic lie – that I'm a gigantic fraud! – because ultimately, I utterly loathe and despise this accursed position!"

Tears of frustration burned her eyes.

"I _never_ wanted this title – or anything connected to it! Yet feeling like this … it just makes me feel so guilty! Mom died so I could take it over, as it was my birthright, and yet, lately, I can't even do the bare essentials _,_ like charming a magatama! Hell, despite all my valiant efforts, I couldn't even channel _you_ , never mind our mother!"

A teardrop rolled down her cheek.

"It's like Misty Fey doesn't want to have anything to do with me whether she's alive _or_ dead."

The brunette beauty winced internally at the tragic attitudes of shame and dishonor which had torn her mother and Maya apart – outlooks which still appeared to distort and tarnish the relationship even from beyond the grave. She had to try to remedy this. Her mind raced through the vast amount of information her sister's beau had relayed to her, trying to locate the fragment of it that might remedy things, even marginally.

"Sister Bikini was the one to contact Pearly after you collapsed," Mia informed her sister. "She told Pearly something that she wanted to be conveyed to you, probably when our cousin must have wailed to her that you did all this to prove yourself to mom."

The elder Fey sibling rapidly searched her memory for what Phoenix had told her about Misty Fey.

"Bikini was told, and I quote: ' _I don't have the right to face my daughter after the stigma of disgrace I've left her with but no matter what path she takes in life, I will always love her and keep her in my heart_.' Those were Mom's last words to the good nun before she passed."

" _Really_?" Maya raised her head to meet that steady amber gaze, her eyes still sparkling with tears. "Mom actually told Bikini that?"

"Nuns aren't generally known to be liars, silly girl," Mia smiled. "A mother's love just like a big sister's – everlasting and utterly unconditional."

"Be that as it may – "

"I'm sure she saved you for being _you_ , Maya," she asserted resolutely. "It was _not_ contingent on training yourself to collapse or become something that you're not. I don't think Mom would have wanted that from you."

The concern in Mia's eyes confirmed the sincerity of her commitment to the younger Fey's well-being, and Maya slowly began to concede the logic of the stance.

"You _really_ think so, Sis?" The village leader sniffled, eyeing her sibling hopefully.

"I do. But Maya, regardless of everything, in the end, the choice is ultimately _yours_ ," Mia reminded her. "It's _your_ life, not mom's. You're not just Master of that village – you're master of your own _destiny."_

Even if nobody else did, at least _Mia_ still had confidence in Maya and her ability to succeed as Kurain Master on _her_ terms – without having to morph into some unachievable superior incarnation to her former self. That was a great comfort.

"According to Mystic Mildred, I'm _destined_ for failure," the Master muttered gloomily, somewhat placated by her sister's words but now consumed with the disturbing thoughts about the rest of her village woes. "Or worse, to bring even more shame and disgrace to the village due to my alleged wayward and rebellious ways!"

"Forget about Mildew! She's just a crusty, miserable old bag!" Mia's lip curled in disgust. "God, I _hated_ that woman! The feeling was entirely mutual, too. She was always up in _my_ face too, about my lack of conformity. She thoroughly despised that I never backed away or bowed down to her. On top of that, she used to call me a _bimbo!"_

"You're kidding!" Maya choked back a horrified laugh. "Oh no, she _didn't!"_

"She most certainly _did_ ," Mia affirmed, a scowl marring her pretty face as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Like I could help the way I was built! It's not _my_ fault they didn't have any robes that properly fit the Fey Twins! Ugh, it was half the reason I left that godforsaken place!"

"That's terrible," Maya commiserated, even as she swallowed back another bout of laughter. "Still, it's hard to feel sorry for you when you hogged all the good genes, Sis! I was a carpenter's dream right up until I was about 19 when Mother Nature _finally_ took pity on me and gave me a _small_ sprinkling of the booby dust!"

" _A carpenter's dream?"_ Mia echoed; her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You know," Maya giggled. " _Flat as a board_ and _never been nailed!"_

"Hmmm, I _see_ ," the one-time legal legend smirked. "As much as I can see that _Ma Nature_ has so graciously taken care of the _former_ issue so you're no longer head chairwoman of the Itty-Bitty Titty Committee… can I safely assume that _Phoenix_ has seen to it that the _latter_ is no longer applicable, either?"

"Oh, my giddy God's pyjamas, Sis!" Maya's cheeks turned crimson and she buried her mortified face in her hands. "We are _so_ not having this conversation!"

"You're what, 22 now, right?" Mia harangued relentlessly. "Do you _really_ still want to try to play the virtuously outraged _hymenally challenged_ card with me?"

"I am going to _die_ ," Maya groaned, her burning face still hidden in her palms. "I came out of a coma, only to have _you_ ensure that I effectively _die of embarrassment_ right afterward!"

"So, based on the evidence of your reaction to my allegation, little sis…" The goading grin was evident in Mia's cadence despite her sibling's refusal to make eye-contact – the dearly departed was obviously enjoying herself, immensely. "I'm going to conclude that I was correct and that my speculation was not baseless conjecture about Phoenix is responsible for you now being a _fallen woman?"_

_"Ahhhhh!"_

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Visitors Lounge_  
September 8, 2020, 5:00 PM

Phoenix sat rigidly on the edge of his chair in the visitor lounge, where he seemed to have spent so much time in the last few days with various Fey family members. As usual, the room was completely isolated. This was a very good thing because there was nobody around to see him nervously sweat-dropping as he spoke on the phone to the unexpected caller who had completely thrown him for a loop when they'd rang a moment ago.

"H – Hello?"

"Wright. We need to talk. _Now_."

_Edgeworth?!_

Phoenix's mind went numb from shock. He'd not spoken to his best friend, except via email, since that fateful day when he'd come to visit at his home a year and a half ago. To say he was _surprised_ by the call would have been the understatement of the _millennium_ , never mind _century_!

Normally, he _would_ have been merely pleasantly astonished to hear from the other man after so long. However, there was something _not quite_ right in his friend's tone of voice, which made Phoenix feel jumpier than a virgin at a prison rodeo!

Barely able to make his suddenly dry mouth form the words, he mumbled his excuses to Maya and Mia and hightailed it to the waiting room down the hall, not raising the phone back to his ear again until he was seated and had ensured he was adequate distance out of ear-shot.

"I'm alone now," he said nervously, hating the slight tremble in his voice that always made it evident when he was completely shaken out of the norm. "I can talk."

"Good. There is much that needs to be said."

Again with _that_ tone! Edgeworth had always possessed a succinct, even curt, manner of speaking in general, making few exceptions for anyone, not even Phoenix himself, for the most part. But this time he sounded even _more_ so than usual! Edgeworth sounded … _edgier_. Even _more_ brusque, if that were even _possible_! As if he were _angry_ with him, and for the _life_ of him, Phoenix couldn't fathom _why_!

He wracked his brain, trying to figure out the reason, and drew a complete blank, which was only making him feel _antsier_! He was certain it had nothing to do with the disastrous way things had been left between them when they'd last seen each other. Phoenix had been beyond touched and humbled when Trucy had relayed the message to him that his friend wouldn't stop believing in him. Therefore, he had ensured that he contacted Edgeworth before he jetted off to Europe the next morning, and the two had smoothed things over between them so that their parting had been a sweet sorrow, not a hostile one filled with regret. Any hostile feelings or hurts, Phoenix had assured himself, were now water under the bridge.

Maybe they weren't.

How else to explain _the_ tone, the same disdainful one Edgeworth tended to use when he found something to be intolerable or disagreeable? The _last_ time he'd used that voice with Phoenix had been at his girlfriend's 21st birthday party when the prosecutor had been lecturing him (completely justifiably!) on his buffoonery that night, which had nearly ruined things with him and Maya permanently!

_I haven't done anything that stupid since! Well, not that Edgeworth **knows** of, anyway…_

"Um, OK," the hobo replied weakly, trying to infuse some of the familiar warmth they'd had in their last phone conversation into the present one. "Long time, no speak, Edgeworth! This is, ah, a most pleasant surprise! How have you been?"

"I did not call to make senseless chit-chat, Wright." Edgeworth's tone was clipped. "Before we proceed, however, I have but one pressing matter than I would like to address, and I would appreciate a straight answer."

"S – Sure, Edgeworth!" Phoenix stammered. "Ask me anything you want! You should know that at this point you don't need to ask permission before you enquire –"

"Fine. Then answer me _this_ , Wright." The next words sounded like they were being uttered through gritted teeth. " _Why. In. God's. Name_ … Did I have to find out from my _manservant_ that Miss Fey was comatose in the hospital?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faith Hill - There You'll Be


	35. I Heard It Through The Grapevine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if I sang out of tune  
> Would you stand up and walk out on me?  
> Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song  
> And I'll try not to sing out of key
> 
> Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends  
> Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends  
> Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends
> 
> What do I do when my love is away  
> (Does it worry you to be alone?)  
> How do I feel by the end of the day  
> (Are you sad because you're on your own?)
> 
> No, I get by with a little help from my friends  
> Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends  
> Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

_**Maya Fey and Mia Fey**_  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020

"Now that you've filled in all the remaining blanks your beau wasn't able to, I'm afraid these problems you're having in Kurain are beyond Phoenix's ability to fix _this_ time around, little sister," the buxom beauty sighed, dropping down onto the foot of the hospital bed. "There's a lot of profoundly entrenched issues that need to be unraveled first and foremost, which have been deeply rooted before you even assumed the title."

"Unless you know how to build a time machine, I can't turn back and undo all the damage that's been done," the spirit medium jested.

Mia rolled her beautiful ochre orbs heavenward at her quip, so she quickly amended her statement.

"I mean, as much as I'd _like_ to go back in time, obviously I can't, so there has to be another solution, but I have no idea what! How on earth do I take on all these pre-existing issues _on top_ of the newfound hellacious ways they keep finding to torture me?"

"We need to try to get to the _root_ of that cause first and _then_ deal with all the other shenanigans you're facing against those who oppose your authority. The first cut is the deepest, so they say. In the case of the origins of _this_ particular deep, pulsating wound ... My educated guess would be it all stems from the DL-6 incident."

"You're right, it does," the psychic nodded, tightly hugging her pillow to her chest. "I've been shying away from tackling things at the _heart_ of the matter, thinking if only I _prove_ myself, all those years of prejudice and conjectures the elders have about our family, about the law, will just go away. Discernibly, I was wrong! It's all so overwhelming, Sis. I don't even know where to begin!"

"Well, the person who's left this fresh hell for you to deal with is already incarcerated, so there's nothing else that can be done in _that_ regard." The elder Fey's expression was thoughtful. "What we need to figure out is how to tackle the demon spawns she's sired in her destructive wake, starting with her most grueling one, _Mildew_. If you can get _her_ to topple, we'll get the domino effect we're seeking, and the _rest_ will fall accordingly, thereafter."

"It all starts with one, huh?" The younger Fey brooded. "But tackling the issue that is The Dragon Lady is easier said than done; even if she _wasn't_ always trash-talking and thumbing her nose at you and mom because she didn't agree with the paths you chose, she also makes it clear she will _never_ respect my authority because she's such an avid Morgan supporter. If that old battle-ax had had _her_ way, our evil, duplicitous aunt would have been completely successful in her murderous endeavors!"

"You know what I'm thinking here, Maya?" Mia spoke slowly, as a realization suddenly dawned on her. "You _can't_ take the high road with slithering reptilians like Mildew and her ilk. There's no point. When you get scared, embarrassed, angry, nervous, full of emotion, and bad thoughts… Remember to maintain your discipline. It earns you respect the more."

"That's sage advice, Sis, but I still don't know how much good that will do me in this case…"

"Don't you _get_ it, Maya? We've got to turn things around here! You've been going about this _all wrong_ , trying to prove yourself to them, and trying to garner their reverence…"

"It seemed like the best idea at the time, trying to establish my worthiness of the title… nobbling them by making them respect me, consequently, just seemed to be the next logical route," the psychic professed miserably. " _Liking_ me was inconsequential but not unwelcome!"

_"Eureka!_ That's _it!"_ Mia snapped her fingers and her eyes lit up. "Jiminy Christmas, is there a light bulb over my head?"

"You mean you had an idea?" Maya asked hopefully.

"No little sis," the recently deceased japed. "I'm _seriously_ asking if there's a lightbulb over my head!"

"Ha-ha. Alright, wise one, let's have at it then?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase, ' _respect is born out of either love or fear'_?" Mia inquired eagerly. "Well, forget about trying to make them respect you because they _like_ you and acknowledge your abilities…what we've got to do is strike _fear_ in their hearts!"

"Oooh…I _like_ the way you think, Sis!" The diviner exclaimed enthusiastically. "You're thinking if they _fear_ me, they'll also _have_ to respect me!"

"That's right." Mia gave a Cheshire cat grin. "Because we won't let them have a _choice_."

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Visitors Lounge_  
September 8, 2020

" _W- what_?" Phoenix stammered, completely flabbergasted by the words his friend had just uttered. " _W- who_? Your manservant told _you_ about _Maya_? _H- how_?"

"The questions _who, what_ , and _how_ are not _yours_ to ask, Wright. The question is mine, and it is: _why_?" Edgeworth asked curtly. "As in _why_ did I have to hear from _Hendricks_ that Miss Fey, _your_ girlfriend – unless you've loused that up since we last spoke! – and _my_ good friend, had been hospitalized, yet I had not been privy to hear neither hide nor hair of it from _you_?"

_Whoa! He's seriously steamed about being left out of the loop!_ Phoenix acknowledged, taken aback by the vehement anger in his friend's undertone, despite his voice not being raised. _I honestly never intended to do that! It's just what with suddenly playing daddy to **two** little girls, visiting Maya daily  
while praying for her well-being, and then having to go and bluff my pianist skills at work … it just  
downright slipped my mind! I'm seriously touched how much Edgeworth cares though. It didn't occur to me how much he genuinely does love Maya; he truly values her friendship beyond mere Steel Samurai kinship bonding. That's why he's so mad. He's **hurt** I didn't tell him._

The realization made the hobo smack his forehead with the heel of his palm.

_Oh boy! Look like it's time to take my (verbal) lumps like a man…and be thankful he's not here in person to give them to me physically – **this** time!_

* * *

_**Maya Fey and Mia Fey**_  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020

"The question is not why, but how. As in, _how_ to train your dragon? _That_ is the $64,000 question." Mia closed her eyes in contemplation for a moment.

"Sis, citing off titles of children's movies isn't going to help here," Maya kidded.

Mia opened her eyes and slowly turned her head towards her sister with a look of mounting annoyance on her face. Oblivious that her joke had flatlined, the diviner continued jesting in her usual playful manner.

"Welp, if you're looking at approaching The Dragon Lady and treating her accordingly as a giant, fiery reptile," she went on gaily. "I suppose we could try to channel the late St. George to slay the beast on our behalf…"

Maya was on a roll now, completely unprepared for the explosive reaction coming her way.

"There is also the option to _exploit_ said wyvern's particular fondness for gold… _hot toilet wine!_ I've _got_ it! We first _lure,_ then _lock_ her into a room _full_ of treasure, jewels, and pretty, shiny nuggets galore…"

"Oh, for the love of _all holy saints_!" Mia snapped, at last, affixing her sister with a ferocious glare. "Can you stop being a clown ass and _please_ be serious here for a minute, Master Fey?"

Maya was taken aback at the reaction.

"Awe, lighten up Sis, I was just joking around!"

_"Objection!_ My ribbing you about Phoenix making like a _carpenter's hammer_ and _nailing you_ was a joke!" Mia scolded, giving her sibling such a stern look that poor Maya slumped down on the bed in fright as the former defense attorney continued her tirade. "This reprehensible dilemma with Mildew and the others pushing you around, and nearly to the breaking point, is no laughing matter, missy!"

"I know that! But – but…"

"Here _I_ am, back from the other side of the grave, frantically trying to help you fix this horrendous debacle you're in yet there _you_ sit by idly _…"_ Mia extended her arm and raised her famous legal pointer finger until it was mere inches from her sister's nose ... "making insipid, corny jokes!"

"Sis, I'm _sorry_ …" Maya whimpered, cowering even lower and pulling the covers up to her chin.

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Visitors Lounge_  
September 8, 2020

"I am so sorry, Edgeworth." Phoenix dragged a hand down his face as he braced himself for impact, knowing his apology would likely be falling onto deaf ears. "It – It just didn't seem like the sort of thing you _email_ someone about … it must've been such a shock! It was a shock for _me_ and I heard it on the _phone!_ But for the record, you _did_ indicate that you would be inaccessible via phone, after all…"

"I said _you_ wouldn't be able to reach _me_ by phone, yes," his friend conceded grumpily. "Nonetheless, if email correspondence was your _sole_ source of contacting me, it still should have been utilized! That was ultimately how Hendricks contacted me. My American cell phone has been forwarded to my LA penthouse and my butler screens my calls and voicemails, ensuring I'm made cognizant about matters of magnitude, via electronic mail – in this case, the frantic message made by little Pearl three days prior. Thence, _I_ can still call _you_ , if need be."

"How _are_ you calling me, anyway?" The pianist was bewildered. "I thought you were on some  
top-secret Interpol mission and your whereabouts weren't allowed to be known?"

"I am not in any breach of my required anonymity instructions, Wright," Edgeworth informed him, his annoyed tone partially now replaced with his typical dry one. "Take a look at your caller ID. Tell me, what does it say? Does it give you _any_ indication who is calling you or the caller's whereabouts, _  
whatsoever_?"

Phoenix blinked. He'd forgotten that he hadn't even checked to see who'd been calling when he'd answered … he'd just been relieved for the excuse to break away from the death glare Maya had given him when he'd blown the whistle on her to Mia!

_Oh, boy, I'm gonna pay for **that** later, too. Yeesh! I'm in hot water with my best friend, then later, my girlfriend… is there **anyone** in my life right now who **isn't** super pissed at me?_

_Possibly_ Mia. But only because she was in the Twilight Realm. However, to compensate for this reprieve, he more than likely was consequently overdue for a few patented Pearl Fey slaps, for _some_ reason or other, soon enough …

"Um, yeah, good point, it says _'unknown name, unknown number.'_ So yes Edgeworth, you have thus maintained your status of International Man of Mystery, heh, heh."

"I wouldn't start chuckling just yet, Wright. I am still quite unimpressed with you. Tell me, something – did Gumshoe know about Miss Fey's critical condition?"

"Yes, in fact, he and Maggey are the ones who look after Pearls in the evening, along with Trucy, on nights she's not working at The Wonder Bar. But since Maya is in ICU, they only allow immediate family to see her."

"Then how did _you_ manage to get in there?"

"I, um, claimed I was a first cousin."

_However, after since witnessing the way I've been talking to Maya in her unconscious state, and the copious amounts of kissing on her sleeping face, the medical staff here undoubtedly think we're the most **incestuous cousins** on the planet! I'm guessing they just assumed we're from the Southern States?_

"You just can't stop bluffing, can you?" The prosecutor sounded a trifle amused for a second, but then his voice hardened again. "So, Gumshoe also knew of this calamity, yet _he_ didn't see fit to notify me either? Remind me to cut his salary during his next review… _Ngh!_ I forgot that he's rich now, so I can't threaten him with penury anymore! Verily then. Ergo! Do remind me to send him a _scathing_ email instead, after we wrap up here, Wright."

_I will do no such thing! Suffering Serpent and the Rainbow! Poor, unsuspecting Gumshoe – even when he's not working under Franziska's whipping wrath anymore, and no longer needs to answer to Edgeworth as his boss, he's still not spared a **tongue-lashing!** At least he and I can compare our battle injuries from the pissed-off prosecutor's barbed verbal attacks later sometime!_

"For what it's worth, Maya's no longer in a coma," he ventured feebly. "She woke up just moments before you rang and is going to be just fine."

"Humph! And just _when_ were you going to tell me this latest tidbit of information, Wright?"

_Holy fat-free carp a skewer! Edgeworth is **really** on edge! If I didn't know better, I'd think something **else** was eating him, beyond being mortally wounded by my inadvertent uncommunicativeness on this matter…_

"Edgeworth, exactly _how_ many times are you going to rake me over the coals for this?" The ex-attorney sighed resolutely. "You're absolutely right to be mad at me. You're my best friend in the world, and Maya and I love you like family. Although it was unintentional on my part, you absolutely

shouldn't have been kept in the dark and I _swear_ to you on all that is sacred and holy, I will _never_ be so careless again."

Silence on the line.

The pianist wasn't sure if his childhood chum was at all mollified or simply reloading his ammo. He affected a more imploring tone, just to be safe.

"I apologize, Miles," he said sincerely. "I'm really and truly sorry."

It was the rare use of his friend's first name that seemed to do the trick this time.

"Forget it about, Wright."

Despite the gruffness of the words, the legist's tone had softened a tad. After all, while the card shark was too big a man to mention it, they both knew _he'd_ forgiven the prosecutor for much more dire sins in the past.

"Moving on then!" Phoenix was eager to change that subject. "How's Franziska doing?"

Another strange pause.

"She is blissfully still dead to the world as we speak, as it's only quarter past five in the morning where we are. However, she's doing well, thank you."

The hobo was now positive he'd heard acidity within the other man's cadence when he'd inquired about his fiancée. Which was odd, considering Edgeworth had been so besotted with the woman that he'd _decked_ Phoenix for slighting her! But he knew how jealously his friend guarded his privacy, so he didn't even try to pry. Edgeworth knew by now that he could always turn to him if he needed an ear.

"In response to your prior, subtle as a Mack truck query, I'd like to let you know that _shockingly_ , no I didn't louse things up this time. Maya is _still_ my girlfriend and therefore, yes, we're very much still together! Um, about as together as we can be, anyway…" he added without thinking.

"What on devil does _that_ mean?"

_Damn your slippery tongue, Phoenix! You've lost your acuity, **along** with your badge!_

"Well, you know," he began awkwardly. "Circumstances being what they are right now since my disbarment… and her being a prominent Master and all…. and factoring in that she no longer resides with me, and is now a two-hour commute away and everything…"

"You're fumfering, Wright," the barrister stated dryly. "Is there something fallacious between you and Miss Fey? Are you due yet _another_ talking to, the way I had to do that fateful night at the bar?"

_Holy sweet baby of Mary, no! Not that! Anything but **that**!_

Miles Edgeworth's lectures consisted of such painful, mind-numbing, ego-crushing, pride-stripping virulence that paint thinners could have easily been made from it! The normally impervious Phoenix was _still_ recovering from the last one! His _mental_ afflictions from the logic lover's castigations had taken him longer to get over than the actual _physical_ blow he'd received from him!

"We've seen each other only three times within the last year and a half."

The beanie man slumped down in his chair and pulled his hat over his eyes after he spoke – as if trying to physically block out the weight of his confession.

"Do you care to enlighten me as to _why_?" The normally austere chess enthusiast was unable to hide the astonishment in his tone. "The last time you and I spoke of her, you were playing dodgeball with her calls because you were worried about how she would react to the news of your disbarment. Then when we spoke on the phone the next day, I got you to confess that the real concern _wasn't_ her feared rejection of you. You'd indicated that you were fretful about the repercussions of Children's Services if they found out about the two of you, hence, you didn't know how you and Miss Fey would be able to make things work in the meantime. Has that particular matter with the social worker not yet been resolved?"

"Oh sure, that was over ages ago. Trucy's since been formally adopted now and is legally and truly mine. That's not the issue at all."

"Then exactly _what_ , pray tell, is keeping you from leaning on the woman you love in your darkest hour? And, at the very least, being a family with her and Trucy?"

That was when the anterior attorney opened the floodgates and professed everything to his brother in arms. His voice nearly broke a few times as he unburdened the sorrows and hardships he'd been shouldering alone, at long last. Phoenix unleashed all of it, from his suspicions about Kristoph Gavin's thinly veiled threats and his consequential fears for Maya's safety to the Kurain restriction, as well as the heartbreaking events that'd transpired the day of the Master Ceremony with Mildew.

Edgeworth listened quietly, occasionally murmuring the odd " _Interesting_ ," and " _I see,"_ his placid tone not once indicating his own feelings on the matters whatsoever.

"You see, at least in Kurain, I know Maya's safe," Phoenix finished, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Or, so I _thought_ … before _this_ happened! But it kills me that I couldn't even go see her once all this time because of that miserable old bag…"

"Nnnngrrrr! Don't say _Oldbag_ , I beseech you!" The lawyer groaned. "I _still_ have nightmares about that She-Thing!"

Phoenix chuckled at the mention of his friend's geriatric stalker. Wendy Oldbag was the _one_ thing Miles Edgeworth feared more than elevators and earthquakes _combined!_

"Sorry, _Edgey-poo_ ," he snickered, using the unfortunate nickname the hagridden cravat man had been bequeathed. "I didn't mean to bring up all the wistful memories of you and The Wicked Witch of the Witness Stand!"

"You're an ass, Wright."

Phoenix smirked, picturing Edgeworth's famous steely glare at him even through the phone line complete with signature arms crossed across the chest and tapping index finger on the arm, the way he always did when he was impatient or unamused.

"Apologies, dear friend. As I was saying, I can't go see Maya in Kurain because of that vile termagant! Oldbag is like a fart in a hurricane by comparison! I swear, The Dragon Lady is _the_ most crotchety, cantankerous despot …"

"You've been working on your vocabulary, I see." The magenta-clad man's amusement at this colorful depiction was evident. "Bravo to you for that!"

"Holy crapballs! Put a sock in it already! Now is _not_ the time to be a heartless, condescending _prig!_ Where's your freakin' empathy?"

"Wright, you really should come up with a supply of cheese to match your vintage whine."

"I don't think you're grasping how our hapless situation is no laughing matter!" Phoenix cried. "Don't you _get_ it? Maya and I can't be together – _ever!_ I can't go to the village because The Dragon Lady threatened to have me charged with trespassing –"

"I see that line of logic as a big failure or a foolish joke."

"Hey! Don't just cut into my monologue like that!" Phoenix was indignant. "Can't you see I'm  
 _explaining_ things here?"

"No, Wright, you're whinging to me about a problem to which there is a perfectly simple and logical resolution."

"Well feed me garlic and call me stinky! What's this now? A solution to this Kurain embargo?" The hobo couldn't keep the sarcasm from his tone. "Well then enlighten me, post-haste! I'd _love_ to hear your sage advice, Mr. Logic!"

"You need to free your mind more, Wright, and let it fly like a bird on the wind."

_Says the man whose hair looks like a bird on his **head** …_

Phoenix grumbled to himself as he wracked his brain, trying to deduce all possibilities to the situation with the village elders. Unfortunately, he drew a complete and total blank.

"Jumpin jacks and a half stack of hat racks!" Frustrated, he yanked off his hat and raked a hand through his spikes. "Call me dimwitted if you must, but I am just _not_ grasping where you're going with this! I mean, maybe it's because I'm too close to the blasted situation…"

"I believe the proper phrase here is, _you fail_ ," chuckled his courtroom rival, who was clearly enjoying having the upper hand.

"I super-hate you, Edgeworth," the former King of the Turnabout muttered darkly.

"Wright, I know you're not a lawyer anymore, but you should never stop _thinking_ like one!" Edgeworth urged. "There is a giant contradiction right here in front of us. Can't you see it?"

"I cannot believe you just used the word _contradiction_ , Edgeworth," Phoenix couldn't resist a slight dig. "It appears that over the years, I must have really rubbed off on you! You're even starting to _sound_ like me!"

"Unngggh!" Edgeworth grunted, then cleared his throat. "The point I'm trying to make is that this Mildred person, how is it she has the power to vanquish you off that property? Is _she_ the sole proprietor of it?"

"Nooo…" Phoenix replied slowly. "That wizened harpy is just a village Elder and possibly ancient enough to be _Oldbag's_ grandmother! _Maya_ is the Master and as far as I know, my girlfriend is the legal owner of all that land. At least, her family was. And I _think_ she is now…"

"You _think_ , Wright? Do you mean neither you nor Maya ever investigated the title of land ownership? Or Misty Fey's Last Will and Testament?"

"There was no time to fuss about inheritances after that whole Hazakura Temple incident! As you know, Maya barely had time to mourn her mother's passing before she was thrust into assuming the Master role right afterward. Therefore, there was no final will reading or legal formality…"

"Ergo, I take this to mean that you didn't look into a bloody thing," the barrister sighed. "Don't worry, _I_ shall delve into the matter."

"Maybe I've been a non-attorney for too long, but for what purpose? Where are you going with this?"

"The law is merely a tool, Wright. There is no limit to it, only the skill of the craftsman." Edgeworth reminded him. "Think, man, _think_! If it can be _lawfully_ proven that Miss Fey is the _sole_ , legal owner of the land and the property that is Kurain Village…"

"That means absolutely _nobody_ has the authority to eject me from the boundaries of the property, because it belongs to _Maya_!" Phoenix sat up straighter now and tugged his hat back on his head, feeling his first surge of hope in years. "Edgeworth, you're a _genius!"_

"I can't _always_ argue with you now, can I Wright?" The prosecutor sounded as self-satisfied as the cat that'd eaten the cream. "So that's _one_ hassle potentially out of the way – and don't worry – you're welcome. What else?"

"Well, it's like I told you, I have my suspicions about Gavin even though I have no definitive proof … though I've told you about the underlying menacing comments and thinly veiled threats he's made. Despite being told Maya and I are broken up now, he nevertheless _always_ seems to know my whereabouts!"

Phoenix yanked at his beanie in agitation.

"And even if I _can_ sneak into Kurain say, in the middle of the night going forward without any legal repercussion, I'm still too paranoid to risk Maya's safety having her come down to see me. Gavin knows where I live, Edgeworth. He – he comes to watch me where I work! He knows where Trucy works…there is little doubt that he's following me. And if he sees _Maya_ …"

"You're afraid he'll follow through on those implied threats."

Phoenix shuddered at the thought.

"I just can't take that risk. Therefore, there's nowhere safe for Maya and me to see one another here in LA. Hotels are out of the question, what with the closest one, Gatewater being across the street, and visible _viewing_ distance from my place. Plus, I don't have the money for that kind of extravagance what with raising a daughter and all…"

"Wright, please, cease your puling and rambling," Edgeworth ordered. "Complaining solves nothing but creative problem solving amongst people with a common focus will produce solutions."

The hobo lapsed into subdued silence as the barrister continued.

"Franziska got a lead about the Gavins the other day, and I will look into that matter for you. I haven't stopped my investigations on that subject, but this man is one smooth criminal. He's left no trails whatsoever, so if he is indeed causing your suspicions, finding the evidence of it will be no easy feat."

"Just as I thought – total bummer balls!" Phoenix slumped in his seat. "Words cannot describe how screwed I am!"

"But in the meantime," his friend went on, like he hadn't heard him. "You're aware of the location of my residence, are you not?"

"No, I've never been there."

_Possibly because you've never invited me…_

"It's 1 Palos Verdes, Coto de Caza, Penthouse. Surely you've heard of that area?"

_Heard of it? Are you kidding? I wouldn't even know how to **spell** it!_

"Um, can't say I have …"

"The Empire Bellagio building."

" _That's_ your place? Damn! That's the most exclusive area in LA! It's where the Gumshoes are moving to next week!"

_Holy Toledo, I didn't realize the Gumshoes were **that** loaded! They're officially in **Miles Edgeworth** yuppie money leagues now!_

"I _know_." His dialogue partner sounded smug. "I was told that there was a 20-year waiting list for a suite in that condo when I was first shopping around for a penthouse. I didn't feel like waiting, so I just outright bought it."

"What, that penthouse?"

"No, the _building_."

"Son of a preacher man!" Phoenix's jaw dropped to his chest. "You _own_ the entire Empire Bellagio building?"

"How _else_ do you think Gumshoe was able to secure a place in that building?" Edgeworth replied loftily. "I _told_ you that Hendricks keeps me abreast of any relevant matters that occur in my absence did I not?"

_Wow, I guess this favor sure atones for all the times he cut Gumshoe's salary when he was on the force! Hmmm, …so good old Edgy has a heart of gold to go with this newfound conscience and those unnecessary feelings, it would seem…_

"It's truly great, what you did that for the Gumshoes." Phoenix scratched his head. "Although I still don't quite get why you're giving me your address?"

"Wright, how daft _are_ you? I'm giving you use of my place as a safe ground for you and Miss Fey to meet up whenever her business travels bring her down to LA, or whenever you two so desire. Let me know what day is best for you and I will ensure Hendricks will be available to give you the keys."

Phoenix was poleaxed by the beyond generous offer. In a dozen lifetimes, he would never be able to afford such a luxury residence, that trumped even the poshest hotels in the city! Moreover, as it was on the other side of town, in an upscale area, it was unlikely he would be noticed or followed there. Even if he _was_ spotted going into the building, Gumshoe, as Trucy's baby-sitter, was the perfect ruse to be going there! He could safely hold Maya in his arms in the undoubtedly opulent penthouse suite with not a worry or care in the world, and in the meantime, his precious baby girl would safely be a few floors down in the care of one of his dearest friends. It was the perfect answer to essentially all his prayers and relationship problems.

It was just a crying shame he couldn't accept it.

"That's an incredibly magnanimous offer, my friend." He cleared his throat. "And as much as I appreciate it – and believe me, I _do –_ I just can't take you up on it."

_"What the deuce?"_ For once, the usually cool and collected legist was unable to hide the incredulity from his composed tone. "Why in the blazes not, Wright? Have you lost what is left of your mind?"

"Listen, you've already done so much for me! You're my best friend, so please try to understand," Phoenix pleaded. "I just can't accept a charitable handout from you – not on such a grand scale! I _at least_ need to maintain my dignity, if nothing else!"

"You foolish fopdoodle of a man! A _handout?_ That's how you choose to look at this?" Edgeworth demanded, his ire unmistakable now. "Do you not remember when you defended me in court four years ago, and then staunchly refused to accept payment from me?"

"Of course I do. And I still won't! Why are you bringing that up now, though?"

"Because this isn't a hand-out, Wright. Consider this the other part of my debt repaid."

"The _other_ part?"

"You imbecile! Have you truly not noticed that you haven't received an internet, phone or cable bill for the last _four years_?"

Phoenix scratched the back of his neck as he thought. As promised, Maya indeed had funded his rent, in a lump sum, for the next few years. And the money he and Trucy both made at their jobs paid his other bills: water, electricity, and groceries, quite manageably, although for the past year, even _more_ so. This was mostly due to the large, sporadic, anonymous _cash donations_ he seemed to keep getting in the mail!  
In the midst of all this, and the general chaos that was his everyday existence, the absence of that one aforementioned consolidated bill _had_ escaped his notice, much to his complete embarrassment!

"Um…" he mumbled. "I guess I thought… they just sorta … _forgot_ to bill me?"

"Oh, hell's biscuits!" Edgeworth sounded pained now. "You honestly are as _trite_ as Godot said, aren't you?"

" _Objection!"_ Phoenix injected plaintively. "That was a low blow, pal!"

"Wright, listen carefully." The tea lover spoke slowly and deliberately, as though addressing a small, dimwitted child. "I took the fee that I would normally charge _my_ clients and applied it to your account with your TV/cell/internet provider. You're paid up for at least… another decade."

Phoenix swiftly did the math in his mind, and nearly did a spit take with the coffee he'd just helped himself to from the vending machine. It was at _least_ a standard California defense attorney's half-year salary! Yet his friend insisted he was indebted to him?!

"Edgeworth, your so-called debt to me is repaid at _least_ ten times over!" He exclaimed in disbelief. "Holy garbanzo beans – _how_ do you figure you still owe me a blasted thing?"

"Do you have any _idea_ how much I typically charge, Wright?" The district attorney asked wryly. "After _this_ is all said and done, I'll consider us to be square. But _not_ before then."

The pianist shook his head stubbornly, even though he knew the other man couldn't see him.

"Edgeworth, no. I just can't. Forget charity …I'd feel like I was taking … malapropos propitiousness of your friendship and your Lincolnesque benignity! I can't lower myself to be a man of such low moral turpitude!"

"By the rood, I have _had_ it with you, Phoenix Wright!" The apoplectic genius snarled. The poker champ could easily picture his rival's fearsome, angry zombie expression, even over the phone. "I am _not_ going to waste _one_ more moment of my valuable breath attempting to have a logical conversation with a man who has the common sense of a _lemming_ , regardless of his newly enhanced vocabulary! I exhort you to go over to Miss Fey and let me speak to her, posthaste!"

"W- What?" The hobo was stunned. "You want to talk to _Maya_ now? Why?"

"Do not argue with me, Wright," Edgeworth stated, in his frosty _'don't mess with me'_ tone of voice. "Give. Miss. Fey. The. Phone. _Now_."

"B – But..."

_"Silence!"_

* * *

**_Maya Fey and Mia Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020

"Silence!" Mia fumed, slapping her hands down, courtroom style, on the hospital over-bed table, with such force it went wheeling across the room. "Maya Fey, you are blessed that I'm not giving you an even more Brobdingnagian lambasting for your feckless and impetuous actions which made you wind up in here in the first place, you … you _reckless ninny_!"

_I'm lucky she's not giving me **more**?_ _Mystic Ami help me…this is her holding **back**?!_

Maya cringed and barely resisted the urge to dive under the blankets for cover _._ Mia had always been slow to lose her temper, but when she did, _look out!_

"Moreover, for the record, little sister, if you know what's good for you, I'd better have since dissuaded _any_ fool-headed notions you've been having about checking out of here early!"

The former defense attorney hopped off the bed and began pacing the room while she continued her tirade.

"You and Phoenix make quite the pair, you know that? Just a few days ago, I had to reprimand your other half about his superhero complex and need to meander about, carrying the burden of the world on his shoulders alone. Speciously, I am now required to give _you_ the same homily!"

Mia put her hands on her hips.

"Do you know he blamed _himself_ for your ludicrous actions? That he somehow convinced himself that his lack of presence at your side was the underlying cause of you nearly killing yourself while trying to prove your worth to those wretched Xanthippes?"

"Oh God, he _didn't!_ My poor Nick!" Maya wailed and buried her face in her hands, then peeked at Mia fearfully through her fingers. "Did you try to convince him he was being absurd and he couldn't have been further from the truth?"

"Maya, what on earth do you take me for?" Her sister demanded crossly, catching the rolling under-bed table with her foot and placing her palms down on it to keep it in place. "Of _course,_ I did! The poor guy was ready to have a nervous breakdown when he found out what had happened to you. I told him the last thing we needed was him you joining him in here. I know misery loves company but _that_ would have been ridiculous!"

"At least if he was in here with me, I'd finally get a chance to actually _see_ him." Maya folded her arms across her chest and sulked. "Oh, don't worry, I don't _mean_ it, of course, but Sis, this long-distance relationship thing we've been having…"

Her voice trailed off desolately.

"Phoenix told me you've only seen each other three times in the last 18 months, Maya." Mia regarded her sympathetically. "That must be so hard on you both."

"It is! It completely sucks a big, fat bag of wiggling dicks," Maya lamented despairingly. "But I _love_ him, Sis! And in my heart of hearts, I know, ultimately, Nick's worth it."

"I'm _sure_ he is," Mia drawled, trying to lighten the mood. She arched an eyebrow suggestively. "Jeez, only three times within a year and a half, eh? Nonetheless, you've managed to somehow make that tide you over _and_ you're willing to tough it out? Holy testicles and great balls of fire! He _must_ be good!"

" _Gahhhhh_!" Maya shrieked in horror, grabbing the closest throwable object near her.

The brunette managed to dodge swiftly as the patient, with surprising new-found vigor, hurled a pillow in her direction. It sailed out the door, almost beaning Phoenix, who'd just been about to walk back into the room, right in the kisser! Luckily, he managed to duck slightly, so instead the pillow sailed harmlessly off the top of his head, slightly knocking his beanie askew. He clapped a hand on his head to secure the hat back in place while staring incredulously at the two guilty-looking sisters.

" _Exactly_ what did I miss?" He asked warily. "You know, aside from finding out which one of you is trying out to be the new starting pitcher for the Los Angeles Angels baseball team?!"

"Oops!" Maya grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Nick,"

"Well, speaking of grand slams and home runs, I'm still deciding whether I should be casting a stern look of disapproval _and/or_ a high-five to the man who deflowered my baby sister?" Mia derided, smirking as Phoenix's face turned so red she could have dabbed him with white paint and used him as a stop sign. "What say _you_ , Mr. Love Machine?"

"Ummmm...urk! Phone – Maya – _Edgeworth_!" Phoenix spluttered, sweat-dropping profusely as he all but hurled his cell at his girlfriend. " _You_ – talk – now! _Me_ – bathroom – _bye_!"

With that, he bolted from the room, nearly leaving smoke trails in his wake.

"You'll have to return back here at _some point_ , Phoenix!" Mia called after him merrily. "You know you can't hide in the john _forever_!"

"Hiya, Mr. Edgeworth." Maya swallowed her giggles and shook her head at her sister before at last speaking into the phone. "How's it going?"

"I am going to pretend that I didn't hear a word of that conversation, Miss Fey. It. Did. Not. Happen."

_Edgeworth?_ Mia thought quickly. _High Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth! Perfect! He's just what the doctor ordered!_

"Hey, little sister," she said sweetly before Maya could say another word. "When you're done speaking to my favorite prosecutie, _do_ allow me to have a word with him, will you please?"

"Sure…" Maya answered uncertainly. "But why? What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," Mia flashed a mischievous smile. "I've just figured out how to _slay_ that dragon of yours, that's all!"

"Holy hellballs!" Maya's eyes lit up. "You mean you're going to try to fight fire with fire?"

"Nope!" Mia shook her head, a devilish glint in her eye now. "Instead, I'm going to extinguish that hydra's flame entirely! But to do it, I'll need to attack that Bête Noire with _the one thing_ it fears more than anything in the world…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe Cocker – With A Little Help From My Friends


	36. Miles Apart But Close At Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the day will be a lighter highway  
> For friends are found on every road  
> Can you ever think of any better way  
> For the lost and weary travellers to go
> 
> Making friends for the world to see  
> Let the people know you got what you need  
> With a friend at hand you will see the light  
> If your friends are there then everything's all right
> 
> It seems to me a crime that we should age  
> These fragile times should never slip us by  
> A time you never can or shall erase  
> As friends together watch their childhood fly
> 
> Making friends for the world to see  
> Let the people know you got what you need  
> With a friend at hand you will see the light  
> If your friends are there then everything's all right
> 
> Making friends for the world to see  
> Let the people know you got what you need  
> With a friend at hand you will see the light  
> If your friends are there then everything's all right

**_Maya Fey and Mia Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020

Maya's eyes were the size of silver dollars as she ogled her sibling in contemplative disbelief, the forgotten Edgeworth left hanging on the line, as the phone she'd had clamped to her ear was now lying on the bed.

"The one thing it fears more than anything in the world?" She repeated blankly. "What in the name of Beelzebub's Y-fronts does that even _mean_?"

"Nothing for _you_ to worry about right now, sweetie." Mia waved her hand airily. "The semantics of that will be hammered out later. You go on and talk to dear old Edgy for now. He's been waiting most patiently and is most likely calling long-distance on his own dime and that probably costs extra!"

"Don't worry about the charge at all." The barrister coughed discreetly to remind the Feys he was still present. "I'm expensing this call to Interpol."

"I'll talk to you later, Prosecutor Edgeworth," Mia sing-songed as she made her way to the exit. "I'm going out to the hallway to give you two some privacy. Plus, I have a certain ex-lawyer turned _lover-boy_ to torment, anyway!"

With those as her last words, she sashayed out the door, waving at the bemused patient over her shoulder as she did so.

There was an odd silence on the line as Maya hastily retrieved the cell she'd dropped into her lap.

"Um…sorry about the hold, Mr. Edgeworth," she apologized sincerely. "I got a tad distracted by what Sis was saying. However, she's gone now. I'm all yours!"

_"Sis?"_ He sounded startled. "I was unaware that you had a sibling other than Mia, Miss Fey."

"Er, I don't. That _was_ , Mia, Mr. Edgeworth."

" _Hold it!"_ The normally unruffled prosecutor's tone was incredulous. "That was the late _Mia Fey_ I just overheard talking in the background? How in the name of God's ten toes is that even _possible_?!"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Mia Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, ICU Hallway_  
September 8, 2020

Mia leaned languidly against the hallway wall outside the room. She crossed her legs at the ankle and waited patiently for her sister's boyfriend to come back from his hasty retreat, a mean little smile of anticipation on her lips. She honestly had left to allow Maya the discretion she was entitled to but that notwithstanding, her newly discovered panacea about how they'd solve their Kurain issues had left her in an extremely sanguine mood. This newfound joviality had her thinking it would be _most_ humorous to accost Phoenix the minute he finally mustered up the will to return.

Glancing up just then, she spotted her former protégé approaching and twittered to herself at the chagrined expression on his mien when he laid eyes on her. It was too late to pull an about-face  
– she'd already seen him.

"Welcome back, _Prince of Preternatural Boudoir Skills_ ," she smirked. "Is my little sister's _stud-muffin  
_ faring better now after his speedy trip to _le_ john?"

"Augh!" The hobo gulped, feeling his face burning again despite the copious amount of cold water he'd just splashed upon it in the men's room.

"You must've _really_ had to go!" Mia razzed mercilessly. "I think the Road Runner on _Looney Tunes_ took off with less speed!"

"When you've gotta go, you've gotta go, right?" Phoenix blushed adorably and scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, kidneys can't tell time! Heh, heh."

"With regards to you taking the flower of my baby sister, I've decided to _entirely_ forsake any jobation or disproving looks and just directly go for the high-five!" Mia continued spiritedly. "How can I not?"

She flashed him a lascivious wink.

"Incontestably, you're such a stallion in the sack that riding the Phoenix Wright Freedom Express train to Bone Town merely _thrice_ in the past year and a half has been enough to keep Maya nicely tided over … assuming her blatant, not-so-maidenly blushing is anything to go by!"

"Gyaah!" Phoenix blushed an even deeper shade of crimson and looked frantically around for a place to hide. Finding nothing in the hallway, save for a laundry hamper, he simply moaned and yanked his beanie down over his eyes, unable to stand his former employer's relentless ribbing any longer.

The late legal legend snickered and reached over, rolling up the brim of his hat just enough to make out his abashed eyes, as though playing peek-a-boo with an infant.

"You're aware that I can still _see_ you, aren't you Phoenix?" She jibed gleefully. "You're not an _ostrich_ , you know!"

"Er…I gotta go!" He spun on his heel, about to bolt again. "I think I forgot my phone in the bathroom!"

"No, you didn't, silly boy!" Mia reached out and tugged at the hood of his sweatshirt, forcing him to stay put. "Maya's got it. She's in there talking to Edgeworth, _remember_?"

"Ugh! You win!" Phoenix threw his hands up in surrender and eyed her pleadingly. "Please! I beg of you _, have mercy_ , Chief!"

"OK, OK, I swear I'm done busting your chops," Mia relented, releasing her hold on him, even though her eyes were still dancing with laughter. "I'm sorry, Phoenix but we dead don't get that many opportunities to amuse ourselves, you know! And you've got to admit, you make it _way_ too easy!"

She yanked the hated hat off his head and tousled his spikes affectionately.

"Seriously though, barring all future kibitzer wisecracks, I give the two of you my wholehearted blessing. I am genuinely pleased my sister is with someone that loves her so much. I couldn't have gotten a better man for Maya if I'd tried."

"Thanks, Chief," he smiled bashfully. "That means the world to me. You have no idea."

"I absolutely adore and think the world of you, Phoenix. You've always been like family … and now, as fate would have it, you're my future brother-in-law, right?" Mia smiled broadly. "Ah, assuming it's not too early to discuss your intentions with my baby sister of course?"

"Not at all. I assure you, Chief, that my intentions are strictly honorable," he avowed with a chortle. "However, I'm having déja vu with this current conversation! Dear old Edgeworth also asked me that very same question 18 months ago."

" _Seriously?_ In the manner of _The Godfather_ , he demanded to know what your intentions were?"  
The elder Fey sister cracked up. "Oh, Edgy is too much sometimes! I forget at times that the two of you are the same age – that man was _born_ 47-years-old, I swear! Always too serious and mature for his own darn good, although Maya has assured me he's mellowed over the years and has a good heart under that curt demeanor."

"He's got a heart of _gold_ ," Phoenix confirmed loyally. "Edgeworth's a great guy. Other than your sister, I'd even dare say he's my best friend in the world."

This revelation, spoken out loud for the very first time, brought a broad grin to his face.

_Yeah, no matter where he may be in the world, that man is truly my brother from another mother. Though miles may lie between us, we're never far apart, because friendship doesn't count the miles, it's measured by the heart._

"The guy loves Maya almost as much as I do!" Phoenix continued. "And because of that, he nearly tore me a new backdoor exit hole when he found out she'd been hospitalized and I hadn't told him! He stumbled upon that knowledge because Pearls notified him; she'd left a message on his cell phone."

Mia beamed at this news.

"It is so uplifting for my soul to see how the former Demon Prosecutor looks out for the two of you! And how sweet was it that he rang all the way from overseas because he was so concerned about Maya!"

"He's always been more about demonstrating rather than verbally expressing emotions when it comes to proving he's not the android I tease him about being sometimes. Regardless, we're lucky to have him."

"Actions always speak louder than words. Anyway, what else were you fellas chatting about all this time anyway?" She asked curiously. "Surely _Don Corleone_ didn't spend the _entire_ conversation chewing you out?"

"No, he didn't spend the _whole_ time on the phone ripping a strip off me with his jobation – just the first five to ten minutes or so," he smiled ruefully. "I admit, I deserved it! I caught him up on everything that's transpired in his absence, the abridged version of course, and he gave me an offer he thought I couldn't refuse."

"Oh? What was it?"

He told her and her eyes widened in awe.

"How unbelievably benevolent and generous of him," she breathed. "So what did you say?"

"I, um refused." Phoenix's gaze was cast downward as he mumbled his reply. "Which, I assume, is why he wanted to talk to Maya."

"You did _what?!"_ Mia glared at him, then, without warning, whacked him sharply upside the head with his beanie. "Are you out of your mind, you precipitous, bromide… buffoon?! What in the name of Lucifer's bottom is _wrong_ with you?!"

"Sweet sadistic scorpions!" The hobo held up his arms in a vain effort to defend himself against another unexpected attack. "What is it _with_ you Fey gals? First Maya, not being able to hold her liquor when it came to me – _literally!_ Then Pearls and her _slaps_ … and now you with my own hat – _again!_ "

He affected his most wounded expression.

"Yeesh! Why is it every time I've seen you lately, you're assaulting me in some way, shape, or form? This is most unbecoming of a former attorney, not to mention ... _illegal!"_

"I'm _dead!_ What are you going to do, charge me with assault?" She snapped, giving him another hearty swat with the cap for good measure. "As it is glaringly evident I failed to beat any sense into that thick skull of yours, I clearly didn't do it _hard enough_ last time!"

"Mia, surely you can fathom how I don't want to be a charity case?" Phoenix protested, still attempting to dodge the hat smacks, to little avail. "Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"No, I sure the hell do _not_ understand! You were offered a reprieve from all this separation hell," Mia huffed, swatting him yet again. "The perfect haven to be with my sister, who had been as lost without you as  
 _you've_ been without _her_ … yet your stupid male ego prevailed, hence the _audacity_ to demur?!"

"Can we not discuss the pros and cons of this calmly, and rationally?" He begged. "And _without_ violence?!"

_Thwomp! Thwomp! Thwomp!_

"Holy frijoles, Chief! Can you _please_ lay off the hat smacks already?!"

* * *

**_Maya Fey and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's ICU Room_  
September 8, 2020

"I'm going to have to smack some sense into that man!" Maya fumed. "I cannot _believe_ he didn't tell you I was in the hospital! You being his best friend and all!"

"No need, Miss Fey, he's already endured enough of a dressing down for his oversight," Edgeworth chuckled. "I truly think Wright has been adequately punished enough for his unwitting misdeeds."

Suddenly a pained yelp was heard from outside the room.

_"Yeouch!"_

"Stop whining, you wimp! It's nothing more than you deserve!"

"What in the name of Mephistopheles' stamp collection…?" Maya craned her neck to see if she could discern what was happening out in the hallway from her bed but found the under-bed table obstructed her view.

"Miss Fey, whatever is that ruckus going on over there?" Edgeworth asked wearily, having also heard the commotion. "Is everything all right?"

Another audible caterwaul, clearly Phoenix's, was emitted then, along with some scalding rebuttals from the unhinged Mia.

_"Ouch!_ OK, Chief, you made your point! Also, that last one kind of _hurt!"_

"If you'd hold _still_ it wouldn't _hurt_ as much!"

Maya bit back an amused grin.

"Oh, that's just Nick getting his deserved lumps from Sis for something undoubtedly stupid that he's done," she dismissed airily. "Nothing my unbreakable beau won't survive, I'm sure."

"The ardency between you two lovebirds is unmistakable, even across the miles," Edgeworth drawled indolently, a grin in his voice. "It is indeed heartwarming to hear the dynamics of this heaven-made match that my fiancée and I moved mountains to get together all these years later."

"Oh hush! Nick knows how much I love him!" She laughed. "And _you_ know very well I do too. Truly, we'd move heaven and earth to be together but up until now, fate has been most cruel to us both. You're a saint for doing this for us, Mr. Edgeworth. Forget what my fool headed boyfriend said to you – on our behalf, _I_ unequivocally accept your generous offer!"

"And _I_ am most grateful that I opted to speak to the other half of your duo who holds all the common sense! I always knew you were the _beauty_ amongst the two of you, Miss Fey," he commented wryly. "But you've just proven to me that you're the _brains_ , as well."

"You just leave Nick to me! I'm no slouch at swaying him when he's being contrary," Maya stated confidently. "After all, I always managed to get him to take me to _Pink Princess_ movies, didn't I?"

"Verily. And against his will every time, if I'm not mistaken," Edgeworth agreed sardonically. "It must have been those puppy dog eyes he just couldn't say no to!"

"You bet your britches!" Maya giggled. "If I could get Nick to do stuff that he hated, then this particular instance, which is of _mutual_ benefit, will be a cakewalk! I am positive once _I_ get a chance to speak to him about this, I'll be able to persuade him into realizing what an incredible, can't-miss opportunity you've given us. I mean, you're allowing us to continue our clandestine love affair by using your luxurious place as our love-shack!"

_"Egad!"_ On the other end of the line, the prosecutor cringed at the bawdy description. "Ah, might we find another way to perhaps reword things in a manner less… _crass_ , Miss Fey?"

"Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth," Maya tittered, picturing the expression of horror on her friend's face. "I swear to you that we'll treat your place exactly like it was our own!"

_Oh, God's knuckles! Now I can't **possibly** let them use it!_

Edgeworthbegan massaging his temple with his free hand as he recalled the chronic state of disarray Phoenix's place had always been in when his assistant had lived with him, all the while wondering if it was too late to recant his offer.

As if reading his mind, Maya quickly modified her statement.

"I mean, we'll treat it _better_ than our own!" She amended hastily. "With utmost care and respect. Honestly, Mr. Edgeworth, what with my Master schedule and Nick working nights and weekends, it's not like we can _move_ into the place or anything! We will be lucky if we can get together once or twice a month – if that! But it sure beats _once_ every _nine!"_

"The place is yours as often as you like," he assured her, properly mollified by her reassurance. "My one caveat is this, Miss Fey: I'd like your word, your _absolute, solemn word_ that you will not _lay a finger_ on any of the _Steel Samurai_ collectible figurines I have in the showcase. They are extremely rare edition and in their original packaging and will lose precious value if even slightly opened."

"Oh wow, you have _Steel Samurai_ memorabilia at your place?" Maya asked excitedly. "That is _so_ cool! Do you have the first edition model with the working light-up sword?"

"Indeed, I do." Edgeworth cleared his throat. "But, ah … forget about what I just said and just enjoy the place as you will."

_I'll just instruct Hendricks to ensure he safely locks up everything into the vault prior to their arrival!_

"You're the _best_ , Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya squealed delightedly, at such a high pitch the legist had to hold the phone away from his poor, abused ear for a moment to give his eardrums a reprieve. "Now it's only a matter of how to go about convincing my stubborn, bull-headed better half that this truly is an incredibly great idea…"

"I surrender!" Phoenix rasped, suddenly racing into the room at that moment, with Mia in tow. "It's a _great_ idea!"

"Come back here, you coward!" She shouted at him, stepping forward menacingly, his hat clenched in her fist. "Stand here and take your lumps like a _man_ , dammit!"

"I mean it! I acquiesce! You win, Chief!"

Phoenix's face was flushed and his head was bare as he rushed to Maya's side, then ducked behind his flabbergasted swain.

"Mia, I will agree to _any_ terms and conditions, as well as naming my first-born child after you, whether it's male or female! Just for the love of all that is holy, please…stop…hitting…me!"

The resurrected Fey relaxed her arm, which had been brandishing the beanie-turned weapon and smiled winsomely, all traces of battle seeming to leave her completely then.

"Good! I _knew_ you'd finally come to your senses and finally see things my way!"

The brunette then turned to her sister, who was gaping at her in utter befuddlement.

"Are you just about done chatting with Edgy, there, Maya? I've ah, laid out the groundwork for you with your boyfriend, who despite some _initial_ resistance, has, at last, come around to see the light. Phoenix is now fully on board with operation love-shack!"

"Unngggh! I _entreat_ you!" Edgeworth implored, loud enough for all three of them to hear. "Can you ladies _please_ cease referring to my residence in such a crude manner?"

From his squatted, secure place at Maya's bedside and despite the slight numbness in his head from Mia's whumps, Phoenix couldn't help but snigger at the appealing tone in his friend's voice.

"Don't worry, Edgeworth," he called into the phone. "I promise you; Maya and I will be on our best behavior at your place, and the only _adult_ activities we'll participate in will be playing _chess_ against each other on your indisputably invaluable set!"

_Note to self_ , the logic enthusiast noted silently. _Have Hendricks lock up my antique, gold-and-silver chess set **along with** my Steel Samurai collectibles!_

"Tell your failed comedian suitor if he even knows _how_ to play the game, I'll bequeath Wright his _own_ set for Christmas," were his haughty final words to Maya, which she laughingly repeated to Phoenix before bidding her friend adieu.

"I reckon the legal eagle and I are wrapped up now," she told Mia, handing her sister the phone. "Will you be taking the call out in the hallway?"

"That's the plan." Mia was already heading to the door. "It's about time you crazy kids had a moment to yourselves, anyway!"

The moment she was gone, Phoenix rose from his crouched position and looked down at his lover, an expression of resignation and amusement on his visage.

"Before you take _your_ turn on the Phoenix Wright Smack-Down Gameshow, my love," he began, his eyes twinkling. "Might I first let you know what I've already had my best friend rip a strip off me, from which my emotional battle scars still remain tender. Thereafter, your sister further compounded said injuries by ensuring I had _physical_ wounds to boot – meaning she attacked me with my own hat, which, incidentally, she seems to have now absconded with! It seems she shares the same Fey loathing for it as you and your cousin do, therefore, I fear it will _never_ be returned!"

Maya's eyes were gleaming with barely suppressed mirth.

"I _was_ going to tear you apart for being a snitch to Sis earlier," she admitted. "But honestly, you look like you've already been through enough already! Moreover, having been on the receiving end of my _own_ lambasting, I'm in a better position than usual to sympathize with your plight and cut you some slack."

"You're a peach, my love." He sighed with relief and carefully sat down on the bed next to her, reaching over to take her hand in his. "Thank you."

"I know you were only looking out for me, Nick." Maya squeezed his hand. "And you needn't worry, I'm not going anywhere until I'm better. Sis made sure of it!"

"Scariest. Dead. Woman. _Ever_." He gave a mock shudder, then flashed an impish grin. "Am I ever glad she's on _our_ side!"

"No kidding!" Maya exclaimed. "She was quite keen to talk to Mr. Edgeworth because she claimed she had a solution to all my problems with the Dragon Lady. Of course, before that, she nearly singed me alive for my ill-timed Dragon jokes!"

"My poor Maya!" Phoenix chuckled, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "Kind of hard to decide which of us got it worse here, lecture-wise! So Chief gave you some serious shit, huh?"

"Like you would _not_ believe!" Maya groaned, nestling her face into his hand, then turning her head slightly and softly kissing his palm. "So, Mr. Edgeworth gave _you_ shit in spades, too?"

"Oh, he gave it to me in with both barrels! Sounds like we've both suffered about equally, although Mia spared _me_ the verbal onslaught in place of a visceral one this time!"

"Welp, how's this for a deal? _I_ won't give _you_ ordure if _you_ don't give _me_ ordure and let's just agree that we're _both_ a couple of complete idiots who deserve each other. Deal?"

"Deal." Phoenix absently twirled a lock of her silky hair with his fingers, while putting his other hand thoughtfully to his chin. "Hey, Maya?"

"Yeah, Nick?"

"I am nearly bursting with curiosity to find out exactly what Chief wanted to talk to Edgeworth about!"

"You and me _both!"_

* * *

**_Pearl Fey and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, ICU Hallway_  
September 8, 2020

Fresh from her triumph of winning the battle of wits against her headstrong former protégé, Mia's disposition had ventured from aggravated and reverted back to delightfully devious.

Hence, while the barrister was in mid-conversation, the very first thing the anterior defense lawyer when stepped out in the hallway was morph back into Pearl, without any preamble.

The tiny spirit medium blinked, utterly befuddled as she found herself outside her cousin's hospital room with a cell in her hand that had a strange male voice, with a vaguely British accent, coming out of it.

"Your sister thoroughly elaborated about how you're able to make an appearance at times via the Kurain Channeling Technique," the man was saying presently. "I must profess that initially hearing your voice was a bit of shock! You can certainly appreciate that, surely. Now, what was it you wanted to discuss with me, Miss Fey?"

"Who is this?" Asked the bewildered Pearl Fey.

"What? Who's _this?_ Your voice is different now." Edgeworth sounded equally as baffled. "Who am I now speaking to presently?"

That accent became more familiar to Pearl the more she listened to it.

"Mr. Eh-ji-worth?"

"Ah, Miss Fey… _young_ …Miss Fey…" he stammered. "I didn't realize … erm, hello, there. How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you, Mr. Eh-ji-worth?"

"I'm quite well," he replied uncomfortably. "I should take this opportunity to thank you for making me aware of your cousin's situation. I am most relieved that she's doing better now." He cleared his throat. "Please pardon my mystification … I could have sworn I was just speaking to Miss Fey."

"But I _am_ Miss Fey," answered the perplexed Pearl.

"No, not you … the _other_ Miss Fey."

The little girl bit her thumb.

"Did you want me to give the phone to Mystic Maya, Mr. Eh-ji-worth?"

"No, no, not _her_. We've already spoken!" Edgeworth bit back a cry of frustration. "I meant the other, _other_ Miss Fey."

Silence on the phone.

"I meant the _busty_ Miss Fey." He stifled a groan and clapped a hand to his forehead. "I mean, the _lawyer_ … your departed cousin..."

"Oh!" Pearl said brightly. "You mean you want to talk to Mystic Mia?"

_"Yes, please!"_

"Why didn't you just _say_ so, Mr. Eh-ji-worth?"

* * *

**_Mia Fey and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, ICU Hallway_  
September 8, 2020

Just as the prosecutor was certain his head was about to explode, a woman's voice came back on the line.

"Good day to you, Miles. How's my favorite prosecutor?"

"Miss … Fey?" he began hesitantly.

"Speaking!" Mia replied cheerfully.

"As in, Wright's girlfriend's sister and his former boss – _that_ Miss Fey?"

"That would be me," she chirped. "Sorry about any misperception earlier! I just figured Pearly would have wanted to say hello to everyone's favorite prosecutie!"

Her mischievous undertone was not lost on Edgeworth, who mentally grumbled to himself about these crazy Fey women and their warped senses of humor.

"Just so I understand and am up to speed…" he resumed rubbing his temple. "Aren't you supposed to be _dead?"_

"That I am," Mia affirmed with sham solemnity, even as she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Ah, all right …" His voice trailed off awkwardly. "Well, um, my condolences then."

"Thank you, Edgy," she replied blithely, then her voice took on a more somber modulation. "Look, I need to talk shop with you, _Miles_. These law matters are for personal reasons and for people we both care deeply about. Therefore, for the duration of this conversation, let's curb the formalities. After all, we aren't on opposing sides of the court anymore and there's no longer a mentally unstable, suicidal witness on the stand! From this point onward, I'm _Mia_ , and you're _Miles_. Is that all right?"

"Quite." He cleared his throat again, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was _speaking to a_ _dead woman!_ "How might I be of assistance, Miss – er, Mia?"

Mia loped down the hall to the visitor's lounge then, sat down, and crossed her long legs.

"I need the benefit of having a renowned, practicing attorney on our side, Miles," she began. "Are you on board with helping my erstwhile protégé and Maya in a few legal matters? I know you're already doing a lot for them already, what with the use of your place and probing deeper into the circumstances surrounding Phoenix's disbarment. I'd hate to further impose, or worse, have you feel I'm trying to take advantage of your generosity."

"If something is beyond my means, I will advise you, Mia," he replied firmly. "But as it stands, there's not much that I would not do, _legally and within_ my power, to be of assistance to either of those two. I owe them both a great deal, both in a professional and personal capacity."

"I would think that you and Franziska playing matchmaker for them in exchange for helping the two of you get together was repayment _enough_ for the personal side," Mia teased. "And the use of your place _more_ than makes you even for anything you feel you owe them in any professional capacity."

"My goodness, being deceased hasn't kept you out of the loop at all, has it?" Edgeworth noted dryly. "You still appear to be in the know about almost everything."

"Heaven isn't _that_ far away, you know – I still hear things," she joked. "Just like I heard it through the grapevine that you're a big softy under that lofty exterior of yours and how much you care for my little sister and Phoenix. I suspect _that_ is the real reason why you're lending a hand here – _not_ because of any debt that you feel you allegedly still owe to either of them!"

"Shall we move onto the legal matters then?" The not-so-secret cinnamon roll requested abruptly, neither confirming nor denying the allegations that they both knew to be true. "I'm all ears and on the edge of my seat with anticipation!"

_He's as emotionally constipated as ever – now that's the Miles Edgeworth I've always known!_

Mia smirked to herself. Even all these years later, the former Bratworth insisted on stubbornly clinging to that aloof, tsundere façade, despite being the most steadfast, loyal friend her sister or Phoenix would ever have in their entire lives.

So be it. They needed his help and she knew they would get it. In the end, that was all that mattered.

"OK, Prodigy Prosecutor, let's get down to business!" Mia trilled merrily. "Here's what I need to you do…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elton John - Friends


	37. Home Sweet Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I'm a dreamer  
> But my heart's of gold  
> I had to run away high  
> So I wouldn't come home low  
> Just when things went right  
> It doesn't mean they were always wrong  
> Just take this song, and you'll never feel  
> Left all alone
> 
> Take me to your heart  
> Feel me in your bones  
> Just one more night  
> And I'm comin' off this  
> Long & winding road
> 
> I'm on my way  
> I'm on my way  
> Home sweet home...  
> Tonight, tonight  
> I'm on my way  
> I'm on my way  
> Home sweet home...  
> You know that I've seen  
> Too many romantic dreams  
> Up in lights, fallin' off  
> The silver screen
> 
> My heart's like an open book  
> For the whole world to read  
> Sometimes nothing  
> Keeps me together  
> At the seams
> 
> I'm on my way  
> I'm on my way  
> Home sweet home...  
> Tonight, tonight  
> I'm on my way  
> Just set me free  
> Home sweet home...
> 
> Home sweet home...  
> Home sweet home...  
> Home sweet home...
> 
> I'm on my way  
> I'm on my way  
> Home sweet home...
> 
> Yeah!
> 
> I'm on my way  
> Just set me free  
> Home sweet home...

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Hickfield Clinic, Maya Fey's Hospital Room_  
September 17, 2020, 2:00 PM

Today was the big day!

Maya stretched out her arms and did a little exultant twirl, she was still so giddy at hearing the news.

After nearly two weeks since the day she'd been admitted, the Master had finally received a clean bill of health from the hospital as well as her official discharge papers, just over an hour ago. At last, she would be free from sub-par hospital food, being used as human pin-cushion, and the indignity of those ill-fitting nighties that didn't fasten up in the back!

She was so close to freedom she could almost _taste_ it.

The patient stuck her head out of the doorway of her room, anxiously craning her neck for the sight of Phoenix coming down the hall for about the dozenth time in the last five minutes.

Still no sign of her boyfriend.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, she flopped back down on the visitor chair in her room, impatiently drummed her nails on the accompanying table, took a long sip of ice water from her Styrofoam cup and silently fumed about her lover's perpetual tardiness.

_Holy ma-humpin shit burgers! Where the hell is Nick?!_

Much like the day of her inauguration, yet _again_ , Phoenix was running late – albeit only a quarter of an hour in this case. And, to be fair, _this_ time, he had ensured there was enough battery on his "Dumb Phone" and _called_ her, letting her know he'd been unexpectedly delayed and to hang on and sit still, as he was on his way.

As if she had any other choice!

Aside from the fact that Maya had no purse, wallet or ID on her, she also had found, when she'd been moved out of ICU and into a normal patient room four days ago, that she also had no shoes…or even _clothes_! She had no inkling of what had happened to the clothing she'd been wearing when she'd collapsed. The sole items within her proprietorship were the small toothbrush and personal toiletries Phoenix had thoughtfully purchased for her once she'd awakened. And she had zero desire to take any of them with her as a memento of her hellacious ordeal, any more than she wished to leave the hospital in her current attire.

The worst part was that topping Maya's list of Things Not In Possession was any sort of _underwear!_

In the grand universal tradition of hospital patient garb, the flapping, open-back gown gave no option of modesty coverage for the unfortunate wearer, so wearing it home meant she'd run too high a risk of being busted for indecent exposure when the cool breeze of the outside winds blew on her naked behind!

When she'd mentioned her plight to Phoenix, he'd relayed that Pearl had taken her Master's kimono and shoes back to the Gumshoe's place to launder and that her cousin would bring them along when they came to collect her.

Not that the psychic could've returned to Kurain even if she'd had her belongings, anyway. For one thing, she had to take Pearly home with her, and for another, there was no way she was returning to Kurain before she saw Nick again. Luckily, she'd been released in the daytime, so he could come to see her off before work, while Trucy was still at school. When he'd spoken to her earlier, he'd also mysteriously mentioned having some _very important_ items to give to her.

She desperately hoped that a bra and panty set was amongst them!

Just as Maya was crunching through the crushed ice cubes from her second water glass, Phoenix showed up at last, with Pearl at his side.

"Dip me in milk and frost my flakes!" Maya cried, racing up to the two and wrapping her arms around her cousin and boyfriend in an effusive hug. "I was losing my mind here, waiting for you guys!"

"Hey, I was only 20 minutes late this time!" The pianist lightly kissed her forehead. "I'm getting _slightly_ better at this punctuality thing, aren't I?"

Now that she'd gotten over the joyous relief at the arrival of the two most important people in her life, the diviner was just a wee bit peeved. She crossed her arms and looked at Phoenix pointedly.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you, Nick? Even when you were a _lawyer_ you were always running late for court!"

"It wasn't his fault, Mystic Maya!" Pearl cut in anxiously. "He was waiting for Miss Sasha to come and pick him up but as soon as we got on the road, Petra threw up all over herself, and Kaya went boom-boom in her diaper, so she had to change both of them before we could head over to get him!"

 _"Miss Sasha?"_ Maya echoed blankly. "Kaya? Petra? Who the heck are _they?"_

"They're Mr. Tyler's wife and twin baby girls!" Pearl informed her cousin, as if this were common knowledge. "He's Mr. Nick's bartender friend from his work and he's _so_ nice! So is Miss Sasha! I love playing with their twin babies! They're as much fun as little Gordy!"

"Um, that's really nice, Pearly…" Maya was flummoxed. "But how is it _you_ know these people?"

"Yeah, about that, Maya…" Phoenix cleared his throat awkwardly. "As you know, the Gumshoes normally watch Trucy for me while I'm at work and while you've been here, they've generously taken Pearls in the evenings too. I, of course, take care of your cousin during the daytime…"

"Uh-huh..." She said slowly, already sensing she wasn't going to be overly impressed with the outcome of this conversation. "I do recall those were the arrangements you told me about."

"Well, the thing is, the Gumshoes went out of town this week, to Idaho, for Gumshoe's father's 75th birthday party." He spoke quickly, as if sensing her growing wariness. "This meant they weren't around to watch the girls during the evenings when I've had to work. As an interim workaround, Tyler has kindly offered to babysit both Pearl and Trucy for the past couple of nights, since his wife is home with the babies anyway…"

Maya's jaw dropped. Phoenix had done _what?_ He'd left her precious little girl in the care some random people she'd never even _heard_ of – never mind _met_! – without even mentioning this to her?!

"Sweet crustacea of West Asia, Nick!" She glared at him in irate disbelief, barely resisting the urge to hurl her bedside pillow in his direction again – on _purpose_ this time! "You left Pearly in the care of _strangers?!_ How could you make that sort of decision without telling me?"

"But they're _not_ strangers!" He insisted. "Tyler's the nice guy who always gives me a ride home whom I've been working with for _a year and a half_ now, Maya! And Sasha is a wonderful person and a responsible mother. She's watched Trucy before a few times – they've bailed me for a couple of nights last September when I had to work and Maggey was at the hospital having Gordy."

"I just _love_ Trucy!" Pearl piped up happily. "My cousin and I have become best friends! We made tacos with Miss Sasha for dinner last night!"

Maya sighed, her exasperation fizzling upon learning Phoenix had left her cousin to be babysat by people he entrusted his own daughter with and hearing that her little girl appeared to have been well-treated and cared for.

"I just wish you'd told me, Nick. I _am_ Pearly's legal guardian, after all."

"I'm sorry, my love." He looked duly chastened. "I didn't want you to worry, had you known the Gumshoes weren't around; I just wanted you to focus on your recovery. You have to know that Pearls means as much to me as Trucy does! I'd never have left _either_ girl in the care of people I didn't whole-heartedly trust! Moreover, Tyler and Sasha _both_ passed my magatama test!"

Maya reluctantly cracked a smile at that one.

"Don't worry, Nick, it's all good … I guess your friend's wife dropped you and Pearly here? That was pretty nice of her."

"Miss Sasha's still here!" Pearl announced while bouncing up and down in her typical adorable manner. "She's downstairs in the car with her babies, waiting for us. She's going to drive us to the train station!"

"Is she? That is so unbelievably kind of her." Maya's beam was genuine now. "But I don't want to put your friend out, Nick, especially not when she's got two little ones to tend to. Pearly and I can easily catch a cab to the train."

"I didn't ask Sasha for anything; she _insisted_ _!"_ Phoenix assured her. "Trust me, when you meet her, you'll see how futile – and _scary_! – it is to argue with her!"

"Sounds like a gal after my own heart!" Maya grinned. For the first time, she noticed the bag and two parcels under her boyfriend's arm. "What are those parcels you're holding?"

"Well, the bag has your freshly washed and dried sandals, underthings, and kimono, courtesy of Gumshoe Dry Cleaners." He waved the larger, brown-wrapped bundle at her with a flourish and placed it in her hands. "However, I've got a feeling you'll want to wear what's inside _this_ package back home, instead."

"Oooh! A present?! For little ol' _me?"_

Maya was already delightedly tearing through the brown paper like an excited child on Christmas morning. Upon seeing what she'd unwrapped, she let out an endearing, elated squeal.

"It's a get-well present from your fellow geek, one Mr. Miles Edgeworth." Phoenix chuckled at the sight of the autographed _Steel Samurai_ T-shirt Maya was holding up against herself, which despite was labeled as small size, came past the knees on her petite frame. "Gadzooks! If that's _small_ , I hate to imagine what a _large_ size looks like! I can only suppose it's constructed from a part of the Big Berry Circus Tent!"

They both snickered, then he pointed to a piece of paper that had fallen to the ground.

"That must have come with the package. I think he left you a note, too."

Maya retrieved the paper, which bore the blue ink of Edgeworth's customary, elegant scrawl.

" _Dear Miss Fey. Get well soon. I hope you enjoy this special edition Steel Samurai movie shirt. I apologize for the size, but it's the smallest they make. I surmise the only person for whom it would be petite is the Global Studios director, Sal Manella_." Maya hooted as she read the handwritten penmanship aloud. "Wow, did Edgy actually insert a _joke_ here?"

"It would appear so," Phoenix noted dryly. "Seems like he's more likely to make a funny via letter than via email!"

_Or in person. **Or** on the phone, where the only thing he seems to take amusement in is **busting my balls** …_

"Wait, there's more on the bottom…" Maya scanned the additional script. _"I trust Wright to be an adequate nursemaid while you're recovering. Should he be lacking in any area, please be advised that my offer for the use of my place and my attentive man-servant, Hendricks, withstand. I wish for you to be back in top form when our paths cross again, hopefully in the near future_."

"Aw!" Pearl grew starry-eyed as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. "That's so sweet of Mr. Eh-ji-worth!"

"Wait, there's still more," Maya read. "P.S. please find, in the other parcel, the items your sister and I discussed."

"Got them right here." Phoenix held up the second, flat, legal-sized package. "I figure you've got a two-hour trip to peruse through it."

"I suspect that would be the unidentified item you alluded to earlier?"

"It is indeed."

"Then he wrote, _I hope these assist you in alleviating your troubles_." Her eyes grew misty. "My stars and garters, how I adore that guy! Whoever knew Edgy could be so such a sweetheart!"

"Yeah, he's a good guy," Phoenix admitted with a wry grin. "The sweet part depends on which mood you catch him on though!"

"Hang on, there's one last bit on the other side…" Maya turned the paper over, then started giggling maniacally when she read what was written.

"Hey! Did you want to let _me_ in on the gag?" Demanded her befuddled beau. "What's so darn funny?"

" _P. P.S. Please burn that atrocious beanie of your boyfriend's post-haste!_ "

Maya and Pearl were both flat out cracking up now, completely disregarding the scowl on the poker champ's visage.

_I spoke too soon! You're still an ass, Edgeworth!_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey  
_** _Hickfield Clinic, Main Entrance_  
September 17, 2020, 2:40 PM

"Free at last! Free at last!" Maya hollered at the top of her lungs as she all but skipped out the main entrance doors in her sandals and customized T-shirt-turned-dress, upon which she'd fashioned the sash of her kimono as a belt. "Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

"You're acting like you just got out of prison," Phoenix laughed as he ushered her to a silver SUV parked to the side of the driveway.

"In a matter of speaking, I _was_ , though! The constant needle pricking and using me as a human pincushion can't be much better than unsolicited anal probing, right?"

 _"Maya!"_ He admonished, casting a furtive glance at Pearl, who mercifully was oblivious to the inappropriate commentary as she was already excitedly rushing to the waiting vehicle.

His girlfriend's embarrassed expression conveyed that for once, she'd at least caught the hint, yet nevertheless continued rambling about her time in medical captivity.

 _"Sowwy!_ But, ugh, you were in the hospital when you fell off that bridge last year, Nick! Don't tell me _you_ liked that slop they called food? I'd have preferred bread and water but they forced me to eat because they claimed I was malnourished. Blech! Last night's dinner was some sort of nasty mystery meat substance drowning in some greasy gravy … it tasted like monkey butt!"

The anterior attorney barely resisted the urge to facepalm.

_Ten thousand thundering typhoons! Can she **be** any more embarrassing? Did they slip some sort of tongue loosening agent into said ambiguous **primate posterior** repast?!_

Phoenix's cheeks were pink as they neared the van, hoping against hope his unsuspecting friend hadn't heard Maya's unfiltered remarks. However, the musical peal of laughter he heard emerging from inside the vehicle immediately told him otherwise. He flung open the passenger door and looked apologetically at the driver.

"Sasha, I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting."

"No worries, love, the twins have been asleep until now. They just woke up but are no worse for wear!"

Tyler's wife was as cheery as ever, blue eyes sparkling with her customary warmth as she turned her laughing gaze to his girlfriend with a warm, kind smile as she extended her hand.

"And _you_ , Miss Monkey Butt-Muncher, must be Maya! I'm so chuffed to finally meet you."

The Master shook the proffered palm and smiled uncertainly before her dubious gaze slid back to Phoenix again.

"She's British," he whispered into her ear as he fastened Maya's seat-belt around her after she'd climbed into the front seat. "She calls everybody _love_!"

Upon hearing that bit of heartening trivia, Maya visibly relaxed and flashed Sasha her most winsome smile.

_The first impression you give out will last for a while and will never be taken from you or put against you._

"The pleasure's all mine," she declared to the pretty, lavender-locked woman, admiring the baby blue end tips of the long waves that tumbled past her shoulders. "And by the way, I _love_ your hair."

"You're too kind. I'm a hairdresser so I try to keep myself as a walking advertisement for my business, which I run from my home." Sasha responded while carefully pulling away from the driveway. "It was fire-engine red for the longest time but I decided to change it up before I had my girls last summer."

Maya turned in her seat and took note of the cooing, dark-haired infants in the back seat between Phoenix and Pearl, the latter who was entertaining them both by giving each a finger to squeeze.

"They're both beautiful," she stated sincerely. "Completely identical too, I see. How on earth can you differentiate them?"

"You're such a love! Thank you so much! Their hair is my _natural_ color, you know," Sasha confided. "We can tell them apart because Kaya's eyes are hazel and Petra's are green. That, and Kaya's the more peaceful one. Petra's a bit more…lively."

As if to accentuate her mother's point, Petra suddenly reached over and tugged at Phoenix's hat, yanking it right off his head. As soon as she saw his spikes spring free, the baby laughed gleefully and clapped her hands.

"Hold it!" The hobo yelped in mock indignation, then shrugged good-naturedly and patted the infant on the head. "You _really_ hate my beanie, don't you Petra?"

"We _all_ do!" Maya chimed in, bursting into giggles. "See, Nick? _Nobody_ likes that thing!"

"The first time Petra saw him, she _cried_ ," Sasha told her merrily. "I'm telling you, that thing is pure female repellent!"

"That wasn't because of my _hat!"_ The hobo protested. "That was because you told me she was hungry and needed to be fed!"

"She did, love. But she stopped crying the _minute_ you took that ridiculous hat off, which was _way_ before I popped the bottle into her mouth!"

Seeing he was fighting a losing battle, Phoenix let out a rueful chuckle.

" _Now_ do you see what I meant when I said you can't argue with her, Maya?"

"I'm a _hairdresser_ , Phoenix," Sasha insisted. "Why don't you just let me give you a quick snip so you won't need to wear that manky thing? Or at least style your hair with some product so you don't need to keep covering up!"

"As much as I appreciate the offer, Sasha, I'm flat out vetoing any sort of snipping!" He shook his head and placed a hand protectively over his spikes. "My hidden spikes and I are doing just fine, thanks!"

_Besides, I'm broke and hair gel costs extra!_

"Your girls both seem to have taken to Pearly very well," Maya observed, her expression tender as she watched her cousin playing with the twins. "It's hard to believe you've all only known each other a few days."

"Pearl is a darling poppet and is welcome to our home _any_ time!" Sasha declared sunnily. "Our entire family adores both her and Trucy. Just like her cousin, the little magician is also a delightful treasure. Clearly, Papa has done a fine job in rearing her!"

Phoenix smiled bashfully at the praise, and Maya was endeared that the girls proclaimed themselves as kinswomen due to the sharing of their Aunt Maggey and Uncle Gumshoe. If only Trucy knew just _how_ closely related they could be related if the fates ever allowed it!

 _If Nick and I were able to openly be together_ , _the way we want to be,_ she mused sadly, _we'd be parents to both girls, and they'd be **sisters** , not just cousins!_

She didn't have much time to mull on these thoughts, as the bubbly hairdresser carried on a steady friendly stream of chatter the entire car ride en route to Phoenix's place, (where they would be dropping him off as he had work later that evening), to which Maya joyfully responded. Her boyfriend had been right to trust their girls with Sasha – she was a genuinely wonderful person as well as a doting, devoted wife and mother.

In the backseat, the card shark smiled to himself and was content to sit back quietly, his attention split between half-listening to the laughing conversation coming from the front seat and playing peek-a-boo with Petra, whose car seat was directly next to his. For a moment, he idly wondered what eye color any prospective Wright/Fey offspring could have. Would they be blue, like his, or the gorgeous mahogany of their mother's? Or even a stunning green, like the adorable baby he was playing with, whose parents had the same eye colors he and Maya did?

He was suddenly jolted from his reverie when he realized that Sasha was talking about the Master's hair, and chastised himself for letting such seemingly out of reach notions infiltrate his mind. As it was, he could barely support the _one_ daughter he already had, never mind adding another mouth to feed to the mix! And who knew when – or _if!_ – circumstances would ever change and become auspicious in the future?

"I'd just take off a good few inches, then add some layers, so you wouldn't need to always wear it up in a topknot like Pearly told me you've been doing since you've been Master," the English woman was saying enthusiastically as she stopped at a red light. "You could even wear it down more often and not have to fuss with lengthy styling time at all if you consider letting me snip it into a chic, classic bob cut, which is _all the rage_ right now!"

_"Leave it!"_

He'd snapped out the order before he could stop himself or temper his tenor. Sasha and Maya swiveled around in their seats and mimicked the gaping expression little Pearl had on her face. Luckily, his outburst hadn't awoken the twins, who were now sleeping soundly in their seats.

"But Phoenix," Sasha protested. "Maya's got so much hair! We could easily donate the rest to make wigs for cancer patients…"

The card shark knew it was the 21st century and that he had no right to dictate what his swain did with her appearance. He was also aware it was not his place to interfere in an entirely feminine judgment about his other half's coiffure.

However, the mere _thought_ of Maya's beloved mass of glorious, raven locks lying in a shiny heap on the floor was unthinkable.

"Do _not_ cut her hair!" He reasserted in a tone of a forceful decree, which back in his courtroom days, used to make even the most defiant witnesses on the stand scurry for cover. "Not now, not _ever!"_

Inexplicably, his uncharacteristic command made Pearl smile.

It made Sasha look chastened.

It made Maya momentarily consider cutting her hair off at the nape.

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Kurain Village, Fey Manor_  
September 17, 2020, 4:45 PM

The village leader thanked Sasha again profusely as she exited the vehicle, while Pearl blew kisses to the twins. Despite her protests, the benevolent mom had insisted on driving them all the way back to Kurain, instead of just to the station, citing that her babies slept better on long car rides and that she didn't have much else to do as she had no hair clients until later that evening. The Amazon had insisted the spirit medium take her business card, which Maya had graciously accepted, but while she would welcome the other woman's delightful company again in a social situation, she had _zero_ true desire of seeing her in a professional snipping capacity!

Despite her fleeting defiant thoughts upon her boyfriend's impromptu, _obnoxious, wannabe-macho, tyrant_ veto, the diviner had zero intention of bidding adieu to her waist-length hair, which she'd been growing her entire life! Besides, she knew Nick would truly be heartbroken if she ever parted with her signature tresses – they were as much a part of her identity as his spikes! He reveled in running his fingers through her hair as much as she did with his. He especially enjoyed softly giving her locks gentle, erotic tugs at _certain_ times, like whenever they were –

"Mystic Maya?" Pearl's soft voice interrupted her lusty reverie.

Maya gave her head a shake as if to clear it. There would be plenty of time to reminisce about her steamy moments with Phoenix later, in the privacy of her chambers. Right now, she'd have to satisfy herself with one final, fleeting recollection of their bittersweet, all too hasty good-bye peck on the lips when Sasha had dropped him off earlier, along with the gut-wrenching, forlorn expression on his face as he'd waved farewell until God only knew when! She sighed soundlessly, then looked at her cousin.

"Yes, Pearly?"

"Um, why aren't you going into the house?" Pearl bit her thumb as she looked at Maya uncertainly. "You've been standing here in the driveway looking into space since Miss Sasha left. Are you scared to go inside?"

"Don't be silly!" Maya declared; with a false sense of bravado she was far from feeling. "Give me one good reason why I would be scared to enter my own home?"

"Because you never told anyone here you were coming back home today and you wouldn't let me tell the Elders any updates on your condition, so you're worried about how they're going to act when they finally see you?"

OK, fine, those were _two_ very good reasons why Maya was feeling as anxious as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs!

"Those oldsters don't need to know _everything_ ," she replied defiantly, lifting her chin. "By the way, there is one thing I never did ask you, Pearly. You didn't have an overnight bag or change of clothes the entire time you were staying with Nick and the Gumshoes. What on earth did you wear?"

"Aunt Maggey bought me some pyjamas, which she says I can keep at their place for the next time I sleepover. Also, Trucy is about the same size as me and she was nice enough to let me borrow her clothes so I didn't need to wear my acolyte robe every day."

 _My boyfriend is truly raising a gem for a daughter_ , the necromancer marveled, as she felt her heart filling with even more love for this wonderful child whom she'd still never met, and who remained blissfully unaware of Maya's existence.

OK, she'd stalled long enough. It was time to go in and face the proverbial music if any at all. In all likelihood, she was probably being ridiculous with her misgivings. Phoenix's paranoia had probably just rubbed off on her, that's what it was! She'd merely been gone for a _fortnight_ , after all! What sinister lurkings or wrongful ill-doings could have _possibly_ transpired during such a short period?

The Master took a deep breath and entered the foyer of Fey Manor, with her cousin in tow.

The sight that greeted them made them freeze in mid-stride.

Upon entry, Pearl gasped, and her hands flew to her cheeks in horror.

Mouth agape, Maya just stood there in frozen paralysis, completely unable to move, unable to think, unable to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motley Crue – Home Sweet Home


	38. The Dragon's Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Images of sorrow, pictures of delight  
> Things that go to make up a life  
> Endless days of summer longer nights of gloom  
> Just waiting for the morning light  
> Scenes of unimportance like photos in a frame  
> Things that go to make up a life  
> As we relive our lives in what we tell you

**_Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Kurain Village, Fey Manor_  
September 17, 2020, 4:47 PM

Maya rapidly blinked a few times as she stood on the stone tile flooring in the main hallway of her ancestral residence, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that what lay before her aghast eyes was indeed, _still_ her home, and _not_ a warped replication straight out of _The Twilight Zone_!

Fey Manor, in traditional Japanese style, had an interior scheme that was both clean and minimalist, composed of doors, screen grids, and frames all made of natural wood, maple, cypress, hemlock, and red pine, with bamboo used for accent decorative purposes. The flooring was mainly wood or grey stone tile, with wood shelving and wall panels remaining of the few walls not replaced with large glass sliding doors or screens that were covered in opaque paper. The large, expansive skylight windows and ceiling openings were predominantly void of any heavy drapery or obstruction, save for a few simple bamboo shades or sheer, gauzy curtain panels to allow as much natural lighting in as possible.

In keeping with the natural beauty of the outside world, the manor bore simple colors from nature, with the predominant colors derived from the browns of wooden elements, and the greens of plants. The design resulted in a simple color palette that was very neutral, Zen-inspired interior to soothe the mind and soul.

At least, that _had_ been the way it'd been when the psychic had seen it _last_!

Taking in her new surroundings, the Master had forsaken peaceful tranquility _entirely_ and had immediately catapulted, as her shock wore off, straight to immeasurable, violent, _homicidal wrath_!

Maya's hands clenched into fists at her sides.

_"Mildew!"_ She seethed.

Her targeted ferocity wasn't misconstrued, of that she was certain. After all, who, besides The Dragon Lady herself, could be responsible for such an audacious, repugnant … _objectionable_ décor overhaul?

Just like who _else_ would have had the tenacity and gall to have replaced the wall painting of Maya's mother, which had been hanging in the foyer, with a portrait of her _own_ haughty, vainglorious one, in full, floor-to-ceiling size? And then had the gall to remove the statue of Mystic Ami and replace it with an incomplete yet recognizable, _life-sized_ one of herself, which was taking up the majority of the main hallway, to boot?!

The beautiful, brightly lit-windows which allowed for a breathtaking view of the lush greenery outside were now covered with dreary, bulky, _ugly-ass_ curtains, which were _gun-metal grey_ , and so thick that sunlight was entirely obstructed – inside, the place looked like it was near dark outside rather than broad daylight!

_This place looks fit for a solar evasive vampire_! The psychic fumed. _Hells bell! Blood-sucker…  
fire-breathing wyvern … same difference. Both can be immediately eliminated via a stake  
– **or sword!** – to the heart!_

Taking a gander around, however, Maya became increasingly grateful for the dimness, which partially obscured the monstrosity that was now her ancestral home. She wasn't sure she could have handled the bastardizing of her residence _in living color_ at that particular moment!

The pretty rice paper lamps and Shoji screens, as well as the dramatic, wall-hanging fountains and Japanese brushstroke paintings, depicting waterscapes, were all gone. In their stead were blindingly bright, psychedelic paintings that were more eye-sore than artwork, snomit-green shaggy throw rugs and hideous, heavy wooden and brass lamps, with gaudy orange and purple paisley lampshades. The icing on the cake had to be the large, pastel-colored flower pot chandelier hanging from the ceiling … from a faux-floral garland.

It all looked like an unfathomable mismatched combination of regurgitated groovy 1970s coupled with 1960s the hippy-era!

_Great snakes! Is this vile, putrid, reminiscent décor Mildew's way of trying to re-live her youthful days of **Free love?**_

Maya gave a violent shudder at the notion.

_Blech! I think my mind just vomited inside itself! The idea of that hell-beast making the beast with two backs is_ _fouler and more nausea-inducing than actual snot/vomit or any color combination that resembles it!_

Suddenly, another abominable concept occurred to her, and also to the still-horrified looking Pearl, who was right at Maya's heels as she raced down the hall.

_Great Javanese gumdrops! My office!_

Skidding to an abrupt halt at her destination, Maya realized things were far worse than she had feared. Paisley wallpaper… plaid couches… tacky, fluorescent lava lamps … and all her _Pink Princess_ and _Steel Samurai_ posters were nowhere to be seen assuming they hadn't just been covered up by the ginormous black and white photos of Donny Osmond and Engelbert Humperdinck!

The focal point of the office was none other than The Dragon Lady herself. She was seated languorously at Maya's desk, bare feet propped atop it, sipping from a porcelain teacup while Tom Jone's _"What's New, Pussycat"_ blared from the old-fashioned record player sitting on the corner table. Mildred's eyes were languidly closed as her head leaned back on the wall behind her, which was adorned by a large photo of Elvis Presley, in his white-suited, hip-thrusting, guitar-playing glory.

Without preamble, the Master stormed over to the phonograph and crudely jerked the needle across the vinyl, uncaring about the ear-splitting scratching reverberation it made. She smiled grimly as she saw how the jarring effect of the ear-raping music being unexpectedly halted had the desired effect of jolting Mildred out of her quixotic woolgathering. Gasping loudly, she jerked forward in her chair with a comical lurch, crying out in dismay as the action spilled what Maya could only _hope_ was scalding hot tea down the front of her kimono.

The old crone's beady orbs were wide with disbelief at the sight of the mutinous, tight-lipped Master standing before her.

"Mystic Maya," Mildew croaked, attempting to drag together the rags of her composure. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I _could_ ask you the same thing…" the diviner's cadence was one of poisonous sweetness as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But I think the evidence of that is pretty damn clear! Making yourself right at home in my absence, I see, Mildred. I do hope you haven't gotten _too_ comfortable though?"

The village elder was too rattled by the Kurain leader's unexpected arrival to even bother harping about Maya's deliberate disrespectful omission of her name-preceding _Mystic_ title.

"I –I've been holding down the fort during your unfortunate absence, Mystic Maya," Mildred stammered, rising quickly from her chair and slowly making her way over to the Feys. "I wasn't certain when – _or if_ – you'd be returning, as the hospital refused to offer any further details! The last update we received was from Sister Bikini, stating that you'd collapsed and had since been comatose."

Maya barely swallowed back a smug guffaw.

_You bet your wizened old heinie Hickfield clinic kept mum about my condition – because Sister Bikini specifically instructed Hickfield not to utter a peep to anyone who inquired unless they wanted the pants sued off them!_

The kindly nun, of course, had long since been reassured of the Master's recovery, as well as the on-goings of what she'd been enduring at the hands of the Elders by Mia herself. Therefore, Bikini had had zero qualms about keeping mum and letting those 'wretched old biddies' stew in their juices a bit longer!

_Understanding the world is a door to believing what we are, where we are living in, and what we expect to come out of our actions._

"Yes, I can see you've regressed to a state most deathly frail whilst fretting this whole whether or not I was knocking at heaven's door." She treated her nemesis to a prickly smile. "However, whatever actions you've taken may now be ceased straightaway. As you can see, I'm back now, and quite palpably among the land of the living!"

"We were all worried _sick!"_ Mildred insisted shrilly, her cavil sounding about as persuasive as Winston Payne's. "We thought we'd lost yet _another_ Master – and so soon after last year's Hazakura Temple tragedy! Then, on top of that, your second-in-command, Mystic Pearl, appeared to have gone missing right afterward! We were positively _beside_ ourselves wondering about the little dear's whereabouts…"

"She was staying in Los Angeles, where I was admitted, with some close friends. You needn't have concerned yourself about her, either." The necromancer wrapped a protective arm around her silent cousin's shoulders. "Pearly, along with this whole village, is solely _my_ responsibility. Now then, as I just conveyed, you are hereby relieved of your temporary, _self-appointed_ , Master's duties _immediately_."

"Of course, Mystic Maya," Mildred gritted out through clenched teeth, shuffling towards the door. "My humble presence here is only to serve your every wish and command."

She was just about to slither off when the Master's next words stopped her cold in her tracks.

"Incidentally, I am placing _you_ entirely in charge of transforming this manor back to the exact state it was in before my departure, Mystic Mildred," Maya informed her coolly. "Also, since I've been gone, if perchance you've been residing within Fey Manor or _my chambers_ , you are to remove _all_ these excrescences, gather your possessions and move back to your cabin, post-haste. You have exactly 48 hours to complete these directives."

_"48 hours?"_ Mildred hissed ferociously as she spun around, her phizog slowly turning puce with rage as her meek, contrite façade vanished in a cloud of smoke. "How _dare_ you! I shall do no such thing! Your orders are preposterous and beyond impossible! You have _zero_ right to cast me out of this house and on my ear when _I_ have exclusively been the one keeping this village running for the past fortnight!

"I have _every_ damn right in the world." Maya glowered at the harridan. "You have desecrated my late mother's name in the past enough and I have suffered all thersitical slurs in silence for far too long but I _refuse_ to stand by and abide your existence in _her_ house, and thence, _my_ house, one moment longer! How dare _you_ try to wipe away her presence by replacing her sacred Master's painting with _your_ despicable likeness? You're lucky I'm even allowing you to collect your monstrosities, rather than throwing those carbuncles in the garbage, along with the rest of the kitschy gewgaws you've defiled our ancestral home with!"

"You shut your insolent mouth, you impertinent hoyden! You've got some nerve, insulting all the great things I've done while you weren't around!" Mildew snarled."Moreover, having these legendary crooner images in this office, rather than your juvenile cartoons, is a massive improvement! If anything, my tasteful enhancements have vastly convalesced this place! What would an allegedly grown woman who still idolizes animated characters even know about good taste?"

_"Improved?"_ Maya laughed humorlessly. "Is that what you want to call turning the bright, natural lighting of the main hall and foyer into a dimly lit place with your drab, gloomy drapery? All you've managed to do is make this the manor look like the inside of a prison full of your tawdry crap!"

"You truly are just as much a discourteous, shameless heathen as the other relatives that came before you, just like I've always known you were! You've got some nerve, speaking so disrespectfully to a Village Elder in this impudent manner!"

The Dragon Lady's nostrils were flaring now.

"Maya Fey, you are wholly dishonorable and underserving of your esteemed title, do you hear me? Such indecorous, ill-mannered impertinence – and from a girl-child who is supposed to be our esteemed leader! Justwho the happy hell do you think you are?"

_"I'm_ the uppermost echelon who's informing you that despite your valiant efforts to make it the contrary, you are _not_ my warden and Fey Manor is _my_ house, not a bloody penitentiary!"

Maya's voice rose several octaves.

"I just got out of _one_ hellacious prison of sorts and you presumptuously attempted to turn my home into another one? Who in the name of God's novelty underpants and matching toga do you think _you_ are? Did you get so deluded in your little act of playing village leader that you forgot that this _isn't_ your house –because you don't own diddly squat and you're _not_ and _never_ will be, the Master of Kurain!"

"Why you – you worthless, incompetent, ungrateful… spoiled little _bitch!"_ Mildred spat contemptuously. "A plague on both your houses!"

"You shut up, you mean old witch!" Pearl suddenly shouted, rolling up her sleeve menacingly as her eyes shot daggers at the elder. "You can't talk to Mystic Maya like that! You're just mad because you know you're supposed to listen to her since _she's_ Master and _you're_ not! And you made her house look … all _stupid_ and _ugly_!"

"You shut your mouth, you little brat!" The old termagant shrieked, turning her lethal glare towards the girl. "It'd hardly behoove you to emulate the lengthy line of obstinate, disreputable, useless Fey women and start denigrating your elders, as well!"

"You shut up right now! I hate you, Dragon Lady!" Pearl screamed. " _Up your Ziggy with a Wawa brush!"_

"Pearly!" Maya gasped, taking advantage of Mildred's startled silence to momentarily take her eyes off her adversary and stare incredulously at her cousin. "Where in Mystic Ami's name did you learn to use language like that?"

"Um, the internet, Mystic Maya." Pearl blushed and looked down, shamefaced. "

_Good grief, after this dust settles, I **really** need to remember to put the parental controls on my computer…_

The Master didn't get a chance to finish her thought, as Mildred had recovered from her stupefaction and was advancing on the tiny spirit medium menacingly, one skeletal hand raised in the air to strike her.

"Don't you _dare!"_ Maya shouted but before she could intervene, Pearl suddenly did a sharp, ninja-style spinning kick, catching Mildred right in her knee, causing the hag to fall to the ground with a hard thump, right onto her wrinkled backside.

_"Oof!"_ Mildred grunted as she landed.

The psychic was torn between being horrified and bursting into histrionic fits of laughter at how out of hand things had gotten.

"Butter my buns and call me a biscuit, Pearly! Wherever did you learn _that?!"_

"Miss Sasha. She used to be an MMA fighter and taught me and Trucy all kinds of self-defense moves…"

Pearl's sentence was left dangling, as with surprising speed for a senior of her advanced age, Mildred had recovered from her tumble and was back on her feet, lunging at the child and roughly grabbing her tiny shoulder as she again raised her bony hand to smack her.

Maya reflexively threw out her arm in front of Pearl to protect her beloved cousin from the slap, just as the little girl raised her arms over her head, cringing in preparation for the pending blow.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genesis – Second Home By The Sea


	39. You Slay Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's just a girl, and she's on fire  
> Hotter than a fantasy, longer like a highway  
> She's living in a world, and it's on fire  
> Feeling the catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away  
> Oh, she got both feet on the ground  
> And she's burning it down  
> Oh, she got her head in the clouds  
> And she's not backing down
> 
> This girl is on fire  
> This girl is on fire  
> She's walking on fire  
> This girl is on fire
> 
> Looks like a girl, but she's a flame  
> So bright, she can burn your eyes  
> Better look the other way  
> You can try but you'll never forget her name  
> She's on top of the world  
> Hottest of the hottest girls say  
> Oh, we got our feet on the ground  
> And we're burning it down  
> Oh, got our head in the clouds  
> And we're not coming down
> 
> This girl is on fire  
> This girl is on fire  
> She's walking on fire  
> This girl is on fire
> 
> Everybody stands, as she goes by  
> Cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes  
> Watch her when she's lighting up the night  
> Nobody knows that she's a lonely girl  
> And it's a lonely world  
> But she gon' let it burn, baby, burn, baby
> 
> This girl is on fire  
> This girl is on fire  
> She's walking on fire  
> This girl is on fire  
> Oh, oh, oh,  
> She's just a girl, and she's on fire
> 
> Images of sorrow, pictures of delight  
> things that go to make up a life  
> endless days of summer longer nights of gloom  
> just waiting for the morning light  
> scenes of unimportance like photos in a frame  
> things that go to make up a life
> 
> As we relive our lives in what we tell you

**_Maya Fey and Mia Fey_**  
 _Fey Manor, Master's Office_  
September 17, 2020, 5:00 PM

The wallop never came.

Just as Mildred's hand was about to connect with Pearl's face, it was suddenly caught in mid-air, in a surprisingly strong grip.

_"YOU!"_

The thunderstruck elder found herself no longer peering into the terrified eyes of a child but at the exposed cleavage of Mia Fey, who, upon looking down to see whose wrist she was grabbing, only tightened her vice-like hold as she glared hatefully at the old woman.

"Sis!" Maya yelled. "The Dragon Lady was about to hit Pearly!"

_"Is that so?"_

Mia narrowed her eyes dangerously as she bent the harridan's wrist backward sharply, causing her to yelp in pain. Still holding the crone's wrist at the awkward angle, the former defense attorney jerked Mildred right up against her, forcing the old woman's terrified gaze to meet her own murderous one.

"If you even so much as _lay one gnarled finger_ on my cousin, Mildew, I will ensure you spend what's left of your twilight years rotting in prison in a cell right next to Morgan Fey, you hear me?" She hissed, her normally warm eyes revealing her matchless fury. "And that's _assuming_ I even let you _live_ long enough to go to trial, are we clear?"

"Crystal clear," croaked Mildred, whose captive wrist had surpassed blinding pain and had now gone numb from lack of circulation in the former lawyer's death grip. "Forgive me, Mystic Mia. I forgot myself! I assure you it will never happen again…"

"You better believe your _wrinkled old ass_ it won't!" Abruptly, Mia released her enemy, causing the elder to fall back again onto the floor with another graceless thud. "It's just as well that I'm here anyway. I suggest you make yourself comfortable, Mildew. We girls need to have a _little_ chat with you."

Mildred slowly rose to her feet, her non-injured hand pitifully holding onto her newly battered knee as she did so. Mia strode over to Maya's desk and leaned back against it, crossing her long legs at the ankle. The younger Fey remained standing but walked over to stand next to her sibling, arms folded across her chest. Both siblings glowering at the Dragon Lady with identical expressions of fierce determination, coupled with unmasked loathing.

Mia paused for a moment in her stare-down to take in her surroundings.

_Know the difference between a catastrophe and an inconvenience. To realize that it's just an inconvenience, that it is not a catastrophe, but just an unpleasantness, is part of coming into your own, part of waking up. Still, there's unpleasant, and then there's just outright…_

"Son of a preacher man! What's with the groovy, shagadelic, and completely _barf-worthy_ décor?" She wrinkled her pert nose. "This has got to be your doing, Mildew! No way is my baby sister's taste this outré!"

"You've got that right," Maya grumbled. " _Someone_ made themselves right at home in our ancestral residence, Sis, in obvious hopes I'd never wake up out of my coma and little Pearly, wherever she was, would remain absent as well!"

Mildred shrunk back at the scathing glare the sisters directed at her.

"Evidently, we Fey clan are unworthy only by bloodline and preceding reputation…yet our house is still desirous enough to be deemed ripe for the taking!"

Mia's amber orbs lit up then.

"On that note, little sister, have you had a chance to present our unwelcome house guest with that _special package_ that I see good old Edgy sent over, as promised?"

"No, not yet. But now's as good a time as any." Maya walked over to Mildew and whacked her in the arm with the envelope Phoenix had given her earlier. "Consider this a … _present_ , Mystic Mildred. No refunds or exchanges though."

She flashed a cheeky grin at the uneasy expression on the elder's face as she cautiously opened the envelope and scanned the documents within it.

"Read it and weep, Mildew," Mia snickered, her eyes dancing as she saw the blood drain from Mildred's face. "In fact, do one better, won't you dear? Read it _out loud_."

" _Dear Miss Mildred Latrine_ ," the elder began, her voice quaking slightly. " _I attach hereto a copy of the Barrister's opinion, dated September 9, 2020…"_

"Ooh, I forgot, old Edgy did a portion of his legal studies and got his credentials in England, didn't he?" The buxom beauty smiled delightedly. "Therefore, he gets to use the title of _barrister_ rather than just boring old _lawyer,_ despite the former being so much more pompous sounding!"

The diviner wasn't listening to what her sister was saying, however. She was too busy doubled over mirth, unsuccessfully attempting to wipe the tears of laughter with her oversized T-shirt.

_"Latrine?"_ She howled, bursting into a fresh fit of laughter. "Seriously? Your last name is _latrine_? Hoobah, that explains _so_ much! No wonder I think you – _stink!"_

"Not _now_ , Maya!"

The older Fey attempted a frown of disapproval at her sibling's childish conduct but felt her own lips twitching with amusement, regardless.

"That being said," she snickered. "I can't imagine a more aptly _fitting_ surname myself!"

"Oh, Mystic Ami, help me, that felt so good!" The necromancer finally stopped cracking up, although she was still wiping her streaming eyes with her hands. "I'd almost feel sorry for you, Mildred, if the circumstances were less severe. I mean… _Latrine!_ That's pretty _… shitty!"_

"Are you _quite_ done, Mystic Maya and Mystic Mia?" Mildred shot them a look so lethal that it would have made Medusa proud. "Or shall I continue or give you _ladies_ – and I do use that term _loosely_ with you Fey clan! – a few more moments to recover?"

"Huzzah!" Maya clapped her hands gleefully. "The good part's just coming up now!"

"By all means, yes! Do go on, Mildew!" Mia feigned graciousness while trying to affect a more solemn tone, even though a smug grin played on her lips. "I _insist!"_

Scowling, Mildred continued to read, the blood draining from her mien as she spluttered out the words.

_"Under the l- legal definition and repercussions to be had from this day forward, s-slander of any persons beholding the Fey surname will no longer be tolerated and will result in a proceeded legal lawsuit, which, if c-convicted, may potentially result in undisclosed monetary sums payable to the holder of the said family name for damages accrued due to this defamation of character…"_

Mildred huffed and flung the papers to the ground, crossing her arms defiantly.

"This is ludicrous, cockamamie drivel not even worth the paper it's written on! You can't enforce this! You can't _sue_ me or _anyone_ else for spouting alleged disparities about you Fey lot! Especially _you!"_ She sneered, pointing at Mia. "Need I remind you that you're _dead?!_ It's not against the law to speak ill of the deceased! Social convention just decrees that it's generally _frowned upon!"_

"You're right," Mia replied calmly, swiftly retrieving the strewn papers and straightening them out. "My mother and I _are_ indeed both departed."

Mildred lifted her chin haughtily in response to this deceptive acquiescence but then froze at the next words.

"However, both _Maya_ and _Pearl Fey_ ," the legal legend flashed a knowing grin at her sister, who returned it with a knowing one of her own. "Otherwise known as your exalted Master and her second-in-command, are still very much among the land of the living! And as the former is a holder of such a venerated, influential position, she is obliged – as you countlessly remind her! – to maintain an untarnished reputation, both inside and outside this village, which cannot in _any_ way be sullied or besmirched! Should she have to bear the consequences of such slander to her good family name and it creates defamation of character, it potentially jeopardizes her career and livelihood. Consequently, such occurrence could inhibit her from being able to continue in the role of Master of Kurain…"

_Jumping elephant fleas, she's **good!**_ Maya marveled, eyeing her sister admiringly before turning back to Mildred. _I'm watching a true artist at work here! If lawyering were an art form, Sis would be Leonardo Da Vinci!_

"I don't have enough brightly-colored puppets to explain in a way you'd understand," the spirit medium stated bluntly. "Ergo, I'll put this into basic layman's terms. You're here on _my_ land, at _my_ discretion and I'm sick and tired of your bullshit! If you keep trashing me and my family while staying on these grounds, forget kicking your keister out my _house_ , Mystic Mildred, because I'd simply take things up a notch and throw you _out on your ear_ and out of _my_ village!"

" _Your_ village?" Mildred snorted derisively. "Oh, that's a good one! I'd love to see you back up that claim!"

"We _can_ , and we _did_." Mia loped over to the hag and flipped the stack of papers underneath her nose. "I suggest you keep reading, Mildew."

"I will _not!"_ Mildred snapped, snatching the papers out of her foe's hand and crumpling them in her fist. "Even if you _did_ find some legal loophole to try to make this stick, you still need an _official_ lawyer to have signed these forms! And while you talk a good talk, Little Miss Bimbo, you no longer fit that bill, since you're also as _dead as a doornail!"_

Mia was visibly seething at this unprecedented insult. With a murderous gleam in her eye now, she started ominously stalking in Mildred's direction but Maya put a hand on her sister's arm, effectively halting her. She then directed her own wrathful glare at the barbed-tongued termagant.

"You have exactly five seconds to apologize to my sister," she uttered in a surprisingly _deadly calm_ tone that was more alarming than any anger-fueled one. "And I hope you savored that final slight, Dragon Lady, for it's the last one I will _ever_ allow to leave your lips within my presence. Do I make myself clear?"

"Oh, and how can _you_ enforce anything, pray tell? Being the Master doesn't make you a lawyer. And your precious Phoenix Wright is no longer an attorney!" Mildred gloated. "Or do I need to give _you_ a much-needed reality check, too, Miss Too Big For Her Britches?"

"You will find several important papers within that presented package, which you're foolishly refusing to read," Maya continued, as though Mildred hadn't spoken. "Amongst them is the signed barrister's opinion document, along with the official last will and testament of Misty Fey, former _official_ Kurain Master and lawful owner of all Kurain Village, its land, properties, and surrounding areas. This form irrefutably bequeaths all land and assets to one, Mia Fey. It also cites that in the event of my Mother's death, and then after, in the event of _Sis's_ demise, everything shall then be passed onto and inherited by _me_. There is also legal documentation proving _my_ proof of sole land ownership. In the interest of saving us all some time, however, I suggest you take a _long, hard look_ at the bottom of those pages."

Mildred blenched then. She frantically scanned over the papers in her hand in record time. As she finally reached the last document in the pile, her beady eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw the unmistakable and impossible-to-miss legal signature.

" _Edgeworth_?" She croaked; her voice now suddenly hoarse. "As in … _Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth?_ _The_ … Miles Edgeworth?"

"That's _High Prosecutor_ , Miles Edgeworth! He's a _very_ good friend of mine. Moreover, he's quite efficient and thorough at his work, too, considering he's not even in the country right now! Isn't it _nice_ to have friends in high places?"

Maya flashed her most shit-eating grin and put an arm around her still-seething sister.

"However, before we go on, there's that pesky matter about that apology you still owe Mia. The other alternative is that I release her and just let loose that famous Fey wrath on your wizened, decrepit heinie!  
As you've so gleefully reminded her, she's _dead_ , after all … so good luck trying to make any sort of criminal or assault charges stick!"

"You may be the one in need of a reality check reminder, as you've conveniently forgotten that we the dearly departed can't do any time, Mildew." Mia gave a devilish smile at the idea of being unleashed, which was nearly as terrifying as Maya's quiet inflection. "And good luck finding a lawyer to take, or even _believe_ your case! Because _no_ legist worth their salt would ever fathom that the nightmarish damage I will elatedly inflict upon your person could _ever_ be caused by the tiny 10-year-old girl whose body I'm presently borrowing…"

"Sweet merciful Theotokos!" Mildred put up her palms then, in the universal surrender gesture as she backed away in terror. " _Please_ stop! I'm sorry! OK? I apologize for calling you a bimbo, Mystic Mia! But tits on a dog, if you aren't as indecent in the afterlife as you were when you were alive! Could you not somehow cover up those obscenely displayed mammaries at least _somewhat_ , so I could at least _pretend_ to take you seriously?"

Mia's nostrils flared at this graceless forgiveness request.

"Are you sure I can't hit her – _just once_?" She implored to Maya. "I _promise_ I won't leave any tell-tale marks?"

Maya shook her head and her sister pretended to pout.

"Come on, we both know she's not worth tainting your hands over! Besides, you've got to admit, attacking the beast with the _one thing she fears most_ is so much more fun! You were sure right on the money with that one, Sis!"

Mia cracked a half-smile.

"True! We _do_ know how much these old bags _love_ the long arm of the _law!"_

"So, what happens to me now?" Mildred asked meekly. "What are my options here?"

"You _could_ try to fight me on this, ignore all my orders and go along being the thorn in my side you've always been, I suppose." Maya shrugged insouciantly. "In which case, _I_ might just say to hell with it all, wash my hands of all this drama, sell the land and move back to the city."

"Y-You _wouldn't!_ You couldn't possibly do such a cruel, selfish thing!" Mildred's veiny hands flying to her birdlike throat in horror. "That would mean the end of Kurain and leave us _all the villagers_ destitute and homeless!"

Of _course_ , she wouldn't! But Maya had studied and perfected her _own_ poker-faced technique over the years from watching the Baron of Bluffing himself in action, so Mildred had no way of discerning whether she could seriously call out her foe on the fake pretense.

_It's just like Bruce Lee said: I too, am learning to understand rather than immediately judge or to be judged. I cannot blindly follow the crowd and accept their approach. I will not allow myself to indulge in the usual manipulating game of role creation. Fortunately for me, my self-knowledge has transcended that and I have come to understand that life is best to be lived and not to be conceptualized. I am happy because I am growing daily and I am honestly not knowing where the limit lies. To be certain, every day there can be a revelation or a discovery. I treasure the memory of past misfortunes. It has added more to my bank of fortitude._

"Well…" Maya pretended to think, tilting her head to the side and cupping her elbow while pressing the fingers of her free hand against the side of her face. "As another option, you _could_ always try to pool your sources – although, obviously not a cent of it will come from Kurain – and try to hire a lawyer to who will try and fight the motion of me giving your freeloading, non-rent paying, squatter's rump 30 days' notice to eject itself off _my_ property if you don't want to play by _my_ rules and regulations on _my_ land! I'm feeling charitable though and will advise that it'd all just be a waste of your time, so I wouldn't bother."

Despite not having a cent to her own name, Mildred couldn't help but be curious about the Master's logic in that instance. Maya caught the quizzical look and smirked knowingly.

"I'm telling you this because it would merely be an exercise in futility! There isn't a lawyer within 500 kilometers that you could ever hire who could beat _mine!_ Miles Edgeworth has a virtually undefeated track record against _every single_ courtroom adversary he's ever had! Except of course, for _one…"_

"That's right!" Mia snapped her fingers as if this realization had just dawned on her. "Now, _what_ was the name of the _sole_ man who had ever defeated the formidable barrister again?"

She assumed a mock pondering pose as well and tapped a thoughtful finger against her cheek.

_"Hold it!_ I'm trying to remember!" Maya squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to drum up the memory and when she opened them again, there was an exultant glint in her eye. "Oh yes, _now_ I recall! The only lawyer to have _ever_ been able to historically beat Miles Edgeworth in the courtroom … that would be _Phoenix Wright!"_

Mildred groaned, and both sisters barely stifled triumphant snorts of laughter.

"What a crying shame." Mia shook her head in mock sadness. "As _Mildew_ here has happily reminded us, my former protégé is no longer a _practicing_ attorney."

"No, he's not. Plus, good old Mystic Mildred also _banned_ him from our village under the threat of _trespassing_ charges," Maya purred with relish as Mildew face-palmed – hard. "No harm, no foul though, Dragon Lady, considering it's _my_ property and not _yours_ , you don't have the authority to ban _anyone!_ However, you can easily _be_ banned! I hereby veto that previous restriction of yours against Nick! _Take that!"_

"Indeed, Mildew, there is _just one_ _thing_ keeping you from ever having my sister's lover take your case, even if he _did_ still have his badge." Mia smiled broadly as Mildred barely stifled a whimper. "You see, there's still the small, teeny, tiny fact that Phoenix _hates your goddamn guts!"_

_"Please!_ I can't take this anymore!" The old woman wailed. "What's to become of me? What are you going to do to me? I throw myself at your mercy, Mystic Maya! I will do whatever you wish, I swear! But please, don't banish me, I beg of you! I'm naught but a helpless old woman!"

"About as helpless as a sleeping cobra," Mia muttered darkly, but to Maya, the Dragon Lady was so genuine in her pathetic pleading that it was almost touching.

"I have no family, no money, and no home of my own!" Mildew pleaded. "Kurain is all I've ever known! If you send me away now, I shall be in the streets. Where shall I go? What shall I do?"

"Is this the part where I get to quote Rhett Butler?" Mia inquired hopefully, unmoved by the intended pitying performance as she directed a cold stare at Mildew. "Because, _frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"_

Maya shook her head, her tender heart softened a tad at the sight the elder's self-pitying tears, even though her sister grunted and rolled her own eyes disgustedly.

Sensing the Master's wavering, Mildred upped her pleading.

"I swear I shall never speak another ill word against you or your family, Mystic Maya. All I've ever done, I have truly done with Kurain's best interests at heart. This village means everything to me!"

"I believe you, Mystic Mildred," Maya agreed quietly. "While I do believe you're the most _God-awful, overly ambitious, self-serving_ shrew since Lady Macbeth…"

"Not to mention Morgan Fey…" Mia muttered under her breath.

"… I _do_ genuinely think you want what's best for Kurain," Maya continued. "Save the crocodile tears. Against my better judgement, I'm not going to exile you."

"You're _not?!"_ Both Mia and Mildred gasped in astonishment, but the spirit medium's mind was already calmly formulating her thoughts on a deeper philosophical level.

_Since becoming Master, I've learned a lot about life lessons from the late, great Bruce Lee. At times like this, I must heed his words. "Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves. Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend."_

"No, I'm not." Maya shook her head. "You're many things, Mildred, cunning, shrewd, manipulative…but you're not stupid. You _do_ run this village and _have_ kept things afloat before I even got here. You're entirely adept at doing as such, and I'm going to let you continue to do so. My Master's travels keep me away from Kurain quite often, and I know things will still be running smoothly if left in your capable hands. But it will be on _my_ terms, hence, _not_ yours. Do you follow?"

A slightly more humbled and subdued Mildred nodded vigorously in understanding.

"Here's how this is going to play out," Maya began, pacing the office as she began to think out loud. "First and foremost, Mystic Mildred, you are going to turn this place back to _exactly_ as it was before I was gone. I mean it. _48 hours_."

"I promise, I will!" Mildred promised. Her relief was as clear as day. "I didn't throw out your mother's portrait or Mystic Ami's statue or anything that belonged to you! They're all stored in my cabin and I only made these changes a few days ago when it seemed unlikely that you'd be returning anytime soon…"

_Also, garbage collection is only once a week, but she doesn't need to know that part!_

"If you can drag that statue of yourself to your final destination of choice, feel free to do with it as you wish," Maya offered benignly. "But _first and foremost_ , I want _that_ eyesore out of here! And then, we will have a bonfire later tonight to dispose of that portrait of you in the hallway…and use the wooden part of the frame as firewood, of course…"

"Can I roast some marshmallows?" Mia begged.

"Of course," Mildred nodded amicably, trying not to be too heartbroken about the painting, as well as the fact that the glorious statue that she'd commissioned the artist to make of her would now _never_ be completed. Although she supposed it was a small price to pay, all things considered. There weren't too many job opportunities for spirit mediums of close to senior age, with no formal training or education outside of a remote village.

"There are some things of course, that _will_ cost money to undo, however," Mia noted astutely. "Like this repugnant wallpaper, for starters! Wherever did you get the money for all this horrendous, outdated furniture? Moreover, where, in the name of all that is holy, were these eyesore atrocities even still _available_ to buy?"

"I didn't _buy_ anything!" Mildred's cheeks burned with humiliation at the debasing commentary. "These were all my belongings from over the years! I just moved the existing furnishings from my cabin into here!"

"Ugh, so _this_ is what the inside of _your_ place looked like?" Mia shuddered. Her sister shot her a _look_ , but she simply shrugged. "Sorry Maya, but come on! If _that's_ the case, her whole _cabin_ should be used in the bonfire as firewood!"

"As tactless as my normally more eloquent sister is being at the moment, she _is_ right about one thing, though," Maya tittered. "Changing the wallpaper and restoring the windows _will_ cost some money. And it's unfair that it be paid for out of Kurain's budget. Therefore, Mystic Mildred, I think a good plan of action would be perhaps determining if any of the more remote cabins on the further outskirts of the village get put into a suitable rentable condition for people seeking a place to do spiritual training, a romantic getaway, or just some rest and relaxation … starting with Heavenly Hall."

_"H-Heavenly Hall?"_ Mildred stammered; her eyes wide with horror. "The one out on the furthest outskirts of the village?"

A mean little smile played on the Master's lips.

"I see you're quite acquainted with the particular dwelling! Once _that_ gets spruced up, you can tackle the other sorely neglected _humble abodes_ within the surrounding areas! What better way for you to determine if it's fit to be lived in other than staying there yourself while overseeing things and construction and renovations from there directly?"

"Would you rather I add _vandalism_ to the list of potential charges against you?" Mia raised an eyebrow. "That is _exactly_ what you did to our house, you know! Are you aware that the penalty for vandalizing happens to be _caning_ if we were in _Singapore_?"

"Heavenly Hall! No problem!" Mildred agreed quickly with a feeble smile. "I will fix anything and everything you ask me to! Erm, just to be clear, you _are_ referring to the dilapidated, ramshackle hovel that isn't fit for human life, which is situated _out_ of the boundaries, located near H – Hazakura Temple?"

" _That's_ the one!" Maya nodded, affixing her most benign expression. "Turns out, I own _that_ land, too! Sister Bikini will be _so_ happy to assist you, am sure, as well as being elated about the additional revenues of the business we shall be bringing her!"

She clasped her hands in front of her happily.

"What better way to thank her for saving my life? And it's way up in Eagle Mountain! I bet it's nice and cold… just perfect for training!"

"Hurray!" Mildred cheered dryly, with no real enthusiasm. "What a clever, innovative idea!"

"Well, we won't have you move out there until this place is back to normal," Maya assured her, now wearing her most roguish smile. "I'm so cheered and excited about this development, I'll even give you _72_ hours instead of _48_ to restore the place to its normal order before you need to pack your bags!"

"You're the epitome of kindness, Mystic Maya," the Dragon Lady's voice was hollow. "But if I'm off in Eagle Mountain overseeing that project, how am I to run this village when you're away at your travels?"

"As my second in command, Pearly is in charge when I'm on regular daily meetings and local travels, for the most part," Maya replied breezily. "And when I'm gone for longer trips or going abroad, my little girl will come with me. Sister Bikini can oversee the cabin renovations, and _you_ can oversee the village. I don't imagine the cabin rental project taking longer than six months anyway."

"Mystic Pearl will be joining you when you travel?" Mildred echoed in surprise. "What brought about this sudden decision?"

"Pearly is a very gifted medium, and there's no better way to show off the Channeling Technique than to demonstrate it first-hand!"

While it was the truth, in a nutshell, Maya wisely opted not to voice the rest of her thoughts out loud.

_You bet your withered bony keister, I'm bringing Pearly with me! After what the elders nearly did to me, and to my mother, there's a snowball's chance in hell that I'd ever leave my cousin alone in the care of any of you, **ever**! I said I trusted you to run the village, Dragon Lady. I **never** claimed I trusted **you**! The adage says to keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer, right? Or in this case, keep the enemy far enough away to keep an eye on, if need be._

"But what about her on-going training and studies here in Kurain?" Mildred inquired. "Is it wise to just have her abandon them entirely?"

"Mildew, Pearly channels as _easily as breathing_ , and no doubt will be the one _teaching_ the classes herself in a few years," Mia pointed out. "She's a powerful medium with more spiritual ability than the three of us put together, hence _my_ ready presence before you! Her training at this point is a mere formality if anything. You tell me _one_ thing that's left to teach that child that _you_ have always expressed as being a more suitable future leader of Kurain than my sister?"

Mildew hung her head at having her own words and actions thrown back in her face for the umpteenth time. A response to Mia's query was clearly unnecessary.

"That being said," Maya noted, walking over to her desk and absently flipping through her datebook. "Pearly made some very good friends while she was down in LA, so the next time I have a conference, I will be taking her with me – what better place, also, to show off a first-hand demonstration of channeling, than on local grounds?"

"I guess that means you'll be visiting with _me_ more often then?" Mia asked cheerfully. "Wow, this _is_ a win-win situation for all!"

"You have _no_ idea, Sis!" Maya put her finger on a page in the next week's calendar section and flashed a huge ear-to-ear grin. "Guess who's got a two-day conference at the Gatewater Hotel in Los Angeles _this_ coming Monday and Tuesday?!"

The sisters smiled happily at one another, each knowing _exactly_ what _else_ Maya's next trip truly meant, without having to utter the words aloud in the newly humbled Dragon Lady's presence.

_And guess who **better** take advantage of my baby sister's presence in his neighborhood this time around if he knows what's good for him? _Mia thought darkly. _Because if for any reason he **doesn't** mile this golden opportunity, let's just say there are **more uncomfortable things** I could do with that beanie of his than just swatting him over the head with it…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alicia Key - Girl On Fire


	40. Love Shack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (When I first saw you, I saw love  
> And the first time you touched me, I felt love  
> And after all this time, you're still the one I love)
> 
> Looks like we made it  
> Look how far we've come, my baby  
> We mighta took the long way  
> We knew we'd get there someday
> 
> They said, "I bet they'll never make it"  
> But just look at us holding on  
> We're still together, still going strong
> 
> (You're still the one)  
> You're still the one I run to  
> The one that I belong to  
> You're still the one I want for life  
> (You're still the one)  
> You're still the one that I love  
> The only one I dream of  
> You're still the one I kiss good night
> 
> Ain't nothing better  
> We beat the odds together  
> I'm glad we didn't listen  
> Look at what we would be missing
> 
> They said, "I bet they'll never make it"  
> But just look at us holding on  
> We're still together still going strong
> 
> (You're still the one)  
> You're still the one I run to  
> The one that I belong to  
> You're still the one I want for life  
> (You're still the one)  
> You're still the one that I love  
> The only one I dream of  
> You're still the one I kiss good night
> 
> You're still the one
> 
> (You're still the one)  
> You're still the one I run to  
> The one that I belong to  
> You're still the one I want for life  
> (You're still the one)  
> You're still the one that I love  
> The only one I dream of  
> You're still the one I kiss good night
> 
> I'm so glad we made it  
> Look how far we've come, my baby

**_Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_** _  
Empire Bellagio, Los Angeles_  
September 17, 2020, 6:30 PM

"I bet you're super excited about seeing Trucy and the Gumshoes again, aren't you Pearly?" Maya asked her cousin as the taxi headed to the stylish condominium. "I'm sure you're all going to have a blast!"

Pearl nodded eagerly, her eyes shining as they always did whenever she spoke of her cherished cousin.

"She's performing at The Wonder Bar tonight. We're going to go see her show after supper, which Aunty Maggey said is going to be her special family _la-za-nee-ha_ recipe! I love watching Trucy perform her magic! She's _so_ much fun!"

"I'm so happy you two have hit it off the way you have, sweetie." Maya smiled indulgently, feeling the same mixed pleasure and pangs she always did whenever her little girl spoke of her secret sister. "Did you make sure you packed the magician assistant hat she gave you?"

"Yup, I couldn't be her assistant tonight without it, though I hope she doesn't try to saw me in half again! Maybe Aunty Maggey can do _that_ part!"

"So who's going to be the on-stage guinea pig – I mean, magician assistant – tonight?" Maya joked as they neared the luxurious building that was to be their home away from home for the next two nights, where both Edgeworth and the former detective lived. "Is Maggey going to step up, since Gumshoe refuses to ever do it again after the last time?"

"He says the box makes him _klose-tra-fo-bic,_ " Pearl informed her. "But I don't think it's the real reason he's probably going to be the one to stay home tonight with Gordy, so it will just be me and Aunt Maggey going to see the show."

Maya raised a questioning eyebrow and the younger Fey clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"I think it's because the last time Uncle Scruffy and I went there, he practically _fainted_ when Trucy did her Needle Through Thumb trick!"

"Sweet sizzling soupspoons!" Now it was Maya's turn to snicker. "Gumshoe nearly passed out?! The big, strapping former Detective is scared of seeing a teensy, weensy little needle?"

Pearl nodded as they exited the cab then, which had dropped them off at the main entrance, dragging their small, wheeled suitcases behind them.

"Uncle Scruffy is scared to death of needles, Mystic Maya! Aunt Maggey said he almost  
fainted _for real_ when he saw the size of the _epi-der-all_ needle they gave her when she was having Gordy at the hospital!"

"That gigantic man-baby is never going to live this down!" Maya joined in Pearl's laughter. "Boy, am I ever going to bust his chops over this one – big time!"

However, both girls abruptly ceased their tittering then and their jaws simultaneously dropped as they stared up at the breath-taking building, which was to be their home away from home for the next two nights, where they'd arrived at last.

The Empire Bellagio consisted of two side-by-side buildings, connected by a beautiful  
porte-cochère. The exterior, designed in the Spanish Colonial Revival style, coupled terra-cotta roofs with authentic tile detailing to complement the rich history and tradition of being located in one of Southern California's most posh and celebrated neighborhoods.

According to Maya's online research of the place, the featured majestic gate had been inspired by Buckingham Palace, that was an _original_ El Camino Real bell marker on the outside, and the surrounding gas lamps were brought in from Edinburgh, with the finishing touch being a cobblestone driveway of imported stone from Italy.

Stepping inside the lobby, Maya and Pearl both stared, awestruck, at the grand interior, which featured decorative copper ceilings, black marble tiling, and a baby grand piano off to the side in what appeared to be a lounge area, flanked by white leather sofas.

After telling the concierge that they were there to see Richard Gumshoe in suite 707, the girls headed over to the large, mirror-walled lift, and told the uniformed elevator operator they would be going to the 7th floor.

"Be a good girl for your aunt and uncle, Pearly, even though I know you always are." The necromancer dropped a kiss on top of her cousin's head as they arrived at her floor. "Give my love to Gumshoe and Maggey and Gordy. Tell them I'll see them tomorrow morning when I come to pick you up at 11:00 for the conference."

"Bye, Mystic Maya. You have a good evening and hug Mr. Nick for me." Pearl smiled and skipped off the elevator.

Maya suddenly felt butterflies forming in her stomach at the thought of finally being alone with Phoenix after so long. Although she'd seen him just four days ago, and every day prior during her stay at the hospital since she'd awoken from her coma, they had essentially been chaperoned visits. They hadn't had a moment alone, what with either Pearl or Mia or a slew of medical staff being around as well, making any sort of private moment between them impossible!

On top of that, aside from that one chaste good-bye peck they'd shared when Sasha had dropped him off, Maya hadn't experienced the sweetness of her boyfriend's lips on hers for the past _nine months!_ What if things were all awkward and uncomfortable between them now? What if they'd been apart for too long and that magical spark between them was now vanquished? What if …

"The Penthouse, madam," the elevator operator announced, interrupting her tormented thoughts, as the doors slid open. He bowed slightly. "Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks, same to you." Maya smiled politely. Then she grabbed her suitcase, stepped out into the thickly carpeted hallway, and headed towards her destination. The butterflies inside of her had now been replaced by giant, flappy-winged birds. As silly as it seemed, she couldn't recall the last time she'd felt so incredibly excited … and _nervous_! Swallowing back her pang of trepidation, she walked over to the mahogany egress and knocked, breathless with nervous anticipation.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Edgeworth's Love Shack, Empire Bellagio Penthouse_  
September 17, 2020, 6:35 PM

The door swung open, revealing a tall, dignified, well-dressed man in his mid-to-late 50's. He greeted her with a pleasant yet perfunctory smile on his mustached lips.

"Welcome and good evening, Miss Fey," intoned the dark-haired English butler, dressed in customary black attire with a white towel over one arm. He bowed to her in greeting, one arm going behind his back and the other remaining in front of him at the waist. "I am Hendricks, the longtime manservant of Master Edgeworth's. I am here to see that you are the recipient of the utmost luxury and comfort for the duration of your visit. Please, allow me to take your valise and join your companion in the dining room. He's been expecting you."

"Thanks. I'm very pleased to meet you, Hendricks."

Maya treated him to her customary sunny beam as she handed him her bag. Taking in her surroundings, she fought back the unladylike urge to give an appreciative wolf whistle as she got her first view of the home belonging to High Prosecutors Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma.

The interior design was rich and welcoming, burgundy and grey color palettes, and crisp white accents, complete with maple hardwood floors, soaring 18-foot, cathedral ceilings, and sparkling crystal chandeliers.

The living room, which was about the size of Phoenix's _entire apartment_ , featured a large hearth, hand-tufted, Tibetan area rugs and hand-etched table lamps next to each of the sofas, comprised of regal-looking upholstery and carved wooden embellishments. Exquisite, gold-framed oil paintings hung on the walls, which Maya instinctively knew were _original_ artwork. She swallowed back a shout of laughter as she took note of the several limited editions, _Steel Samurai_ figurines in the lacquered display case to the side, with a discrete but can't-miss _lock_ on the glass door!

The dramatically long living and dining area had a full wall of windows with a magnificent 180-degree view of the northern cityscape, covered with trees. French doors lead from the living area to the step-out, wraparound balcony, allowing for a breath-taking panoramic view of the Hollywood Hills and downtown Los Angeles. Looking to her left, she noted the grand entryway to the dining room, as well-lit and large as the rest of the place. Walking to it, she marveled at the wall tapestries, huge, glittery crystal chandelier, and a long cherry wood table that was flanked by heavy chairs. Despite having seating for twelve, there were only two place settings laid out, with domed lids covering the meals.

It was here where Maya found Phoenix seated, dressed in his usual jogging suit attire, but for once without the detested beanie on his head. Her disquietude was gone and replaced by sheer jubilation the minute she laid eyes on him, her arms already stretched out as she walked over.

"Nick!" She called happily, quickening her pace, as she fought the urge to run into his arms for fear of bumping into one of Edgeworth's valuable antique knickknacks by accident. "Nick, I'm finally here!"

He shot up from his wing-backed dining lounge when he saw her, striding forward with a sweet but slightly shy smile on his visage. He reached for her hands and held them clasped in his own for a moment as his loving gaze drank in the sight of her.

_Though there are no stars, no light, the souls in love will always shine so bright, even in darkness._

"My love," Phoenix whispered. "I can't believe you're really here; that I'm finally getting to see you again."

He reached up and stroked her face with his knuckles.

"Since that day Sasha dropped me off, all I could do was daydream about when I would be able to lay my eyes on you once more. I thought it'd be another _near year_. I never _dreamed_ it would be so soon."

"I still can't believe this is real, either." She caught his hand and pressed it against her cheek, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. "I feel like I'm dreaming, Nick."

"Maya, I –"

"Supper is served," Hendricks suddenly announced from his standing position next to the table, his countenance full of the dignity of his office as he grandly lifted the silver dome covers off the two plates on the table. "Chivvy along, get it while it's warm!"

_Goddamn it!_

Maya stifled an irritated sigh as she reluctantly stepped away from her boyfriend and plodded back to the dining area. Despite her annoyance at the butler's unintentional interruption of their private reunion, her eyes still lit up when she saw what was on the dinner menu.

"Sweet sassy molassy!" She clapped her hands like an excited child. "Hendricks is that monster-sized thing … a _hamburger_!?"

"And is this a grilled chicken sandwich?" Phoenix looked impressed. "Nice! How did you know what our favorite foods were?"

"Mr. Wright, Miss Fey, I have taken the liberty of consulting with the Master as to what meals might best be pleasing to your palates," Hendricks explained as he held out Maya's chair for her then placed Phoenix's linen napkin in his lap. "For the lady, an Angus burger with chipotle mayonnaise, blue cheese, manchego cheese, and chargrilled red capsicum. For the gentleman, poached chicken with strawberry, mint, and lemon crème Fraiche. Both are served on garlic and rosemary focaccia, with a side order of hand-cut, oven-baked, Desiree potato fries, drizzled with truffle oil, and tossed with freshly shaved parmesan."

The couple gaped at Edgeworth's faithful servant, mouths agape with awed astonishment.

"Slappin' Salamanders! " The psychic breathed. "Hendricks, not that we're aren't grateful for this gourmet spread you made…but… you _really_ shouldn't have put yourself out like this!"

"Yeah, we're neither of us the fancy, schmancy foodie types, to be honest." The pianist smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, Maya here would have been right as rain with some pickles and ketchup on a regular slab of chuck beef, while _I'd_ have been as happy as a clam with the grilled chicken and some mustard!"

 _"Mustard_ _?"_ The butler echoed, as though affronted by such a heathen concept. "Mr. Wright, I don't believe Master Edgeworth has anything of … _that sort_ within the premises. However, if it pleases you, I could venture to _my_ living quarters on the lower level where mayhap I could retrieve a jar of _Grey Poupon_ for you?"

_Poop grey on **what** now?_

There was the world's most awkward pause as Phoenix stared uncomprehendingly at the Brit, whose salt and pepper eyebrows remained raised in a disdained semaphore. Luckily, Maya saved him from saying something even _more_ undignified.

"We're fine but thank you, Hendricks," she assured him graciously. "This all looks wonderful!"

"Very good, Miss Fey. I do hope everything is to your liking. Please allow me to pour your beverage. I have taken the liberty of acquiring you a bottle of the finest..." Hendricks looked at the bottle and his brows, only newly returned to their normal position, threatened to nearly disappear into his hairline. "Sparking … _grape juice_. Please allow me to, ah, go … _unscrew_ it for you. I shall be right back."

The butler retreated to the kitchen then, the foreign bottle of pseudo wine held at arm's length, as though he feared being contaminated by such uncouth swill.

Maya, who had just taken a hearty mouthful of savory scrumptiousness, nearly choked on her burger.

 ** _Sparkling_** _… Grape juice?! Jeez, Louise,_ _Edgy didn't miss a single detail, did he?_

She noticed Phoenix was happily munching his epicurean fries but still hadn't taken a bite of his chicken sandwich.

"Nick!" She whispered at him, as discreetly as she could across the enormous table. "Why aren't you eating your food?!"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Maya." He dubiously eyed his plate and gingerly poked at the bun as if afraid it would bite him. "I'm a plain, mustard, mayo kind of man, not some _shi-shi frou-frou_ gourmet kind of guy, like Edgeworth! I mean, who eats _fruit_ on their chicken?"

Maya was fuming at her swain's ingratitude.

"Phoenix Wright, you better eat your darn chicken," she threatened. "Or I'll…I'll… go and tell Edgy you so discourteously balked at eating the delicious-looking fare his manservant went through so much trouble for! And you know that I know that you know that I know he will _tear you to shreds_ for such a slight to his hospitality!"

"You're kidding! My own girlfriend would seriously rat on me?" Phoenix felt sweat forming at his temples as he pictured the excruciating mental affliction he'd suffer from a patently barbed Edgeworth reprimand if Maya made good on her threat. "You _wouldn't!"_

" _Try_ me, buster!" She glowered at him. "It's not like you wouldn't deserve it! Like _you_ haven't sold _me_ out in the past! Or have you already forgotten about snitching to my sister just a couple of weeks ago?"

 _"Objection!_ Totally and completely different circumstances for the ultimate greater good! I was trying to prevent you from putting yourself into further peril! I was trying to save your _life_ , Maya!"

 _"Overruled!_ _I_ am trying to save _you_ from the lecture of a lifetime!" She smiled triumphantly as his shoulders slumped in resignation, knowing she'd won this battle. "Stop being such a xenophobic twit and _live_ a little! Embrace trying new things instead of sticking to the status quo, Nick! I'm you're your dish is sublime! _Mine_ sure is!"

 _Try new things, she says,_ Phoenix grumbled to himself as he gingerly took a bite of his food. _As if revamping myself from being a bachelor defense attorney into a wannabe cabaret musician/single father wasn't life-changing enough…_

As he slowly chewed, however, he was both stupefied and amazed at the delicious sensation of savory sweetness blending in his mouth.

"My love, you were right! This fare is out of this world!" He enthusiastically tucked into his fare with gusto. "This is the best chicken sandwich I've ever tasted!"

" _Seee_?" She teased, sticking her tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes back at her, even though he was grinning. " _Told_ ya!"

_Even before she ever becomes Mrs. Wright, let the record show that she was already **Ms. Right**! I just didn't realize her first name was **"ALWAYS!**_ **"**

Hendricks returned with their fizzy beverages, poured into long-stemmed crystal goblets, then disappeared again. The couple toasted each other before taking a sip of the cool, sweet liquid.

"To the man I love!" Maya clinked her glass against his.

"And to the woman I adore."

Now that the two had sated their appetites, a whole glorious evening lay sprawled ahead of them, and the spirit medium became fully aware of an entirely different hunger unfolding within her. The lascivious look in the hobo's eyes told her that he was thinking the _exact_ same thing.

"You know, I still haven't shown you around of the rest of this place, Maya," he noted with a sly smile, starting to rise from his seat. "I really _should_ give you the full, grand tour."

"Yes, and perhaps you could start said _tour_ by showing me where the butler so thoughtfully put my bags?" She purred, getting up from her chair as well. "Maybe you could begin by escorting me to the general vicinity of the _boudoir?"_

"Your dessert, Mr. Wright, and Miss Fey." The manservant cut in, putting a huge glass-domed platter down on the table. "I would you find it pleasing to both your palates, especially you, good lady."

 _Oh, come **on**! _Maya puffed out her cheeks sullenly at the ill-timed interruption. _Now I think he's just doing it on **purpose**!_

She barely stifled back an angry mutter as she flopped dejectedly back into her seat, giggling silently in her mind at the withering look Phoenix shot the butler as Hendricks obliviously began to cut and serve the admittedly sumptuous-looking cake he'd brought out.

"The Master mentioned that you were quite the fan of _The Pink Princess_ , Miss Fey." The butler placed a generous slab onto a china saucer and placed it before her. "Ergo, I took the liberty of making a pink-themed item for pudding."

In spite of dessert not having been the kind of _sinfully_ _sweet temptation_ she'd wanted to sink her teeth into a moment ago, Maya's gluttonous nature couldn't help but be tantalized by the words.

"Oh really? What do we have here, then?"

Despite his frustration at being cockblocked for the second time that night, Phoenix couldn't help but snicker to himself. Evidently, Maya's six stomachs had spoken and accordingly, taken precedence over anything _else_ that may have whetted her appetite! It looked like they would be lingering for dessert after all, even if the sole saccharine morsel _he_ could have possibly been in the mood for at that moment was whipped cream.

_And that's only if it could be eaten off my girlfriend's delectable body…_

"Homemade raspberry cheesecake," Hendricks told them, interrupting the former lawyer's lewd thoughts. There was a note of pride in his cadence. "It is a blend of Greek yogurt cheesecake and chunks of raspberry cake, with a graham cracker crust, and drizzled with real raspberry purée, garnished with fresh raspberries and a sprig of mint."

"Sounds superlative." Maya was pretty much drooling now, and Phoenix was certain her reaction would have been the same even if the Englishman _hadn't_ mentioned the beloved theme that had inspired the dessert, which, he had to admit as he took a bite, _was_ divine.

"I shall be taking my leave for the evening now, Mr. Wright, Miss Fey," Hendricks informed the couple as they finished off their last bites. "Don't worry about clearing up, I shall take care of that when I return in the morning to make you breakfast. How does 9:00 sound?"

"That's perfect." Maya beamed. "I'm to go downstairs to get my cousin at 11:00 and need to be downtown for a conference by noon. Thank you, Hendricks."

"Yes, thank you. Everything was _fantastic_." Phoenix told him, even though he was wondering why the meticulous butler was content to leave cleanup till the next day rather than doing so right away.

Hendricks appeared to be reading his mind and the ghost of a smile flickered across his austere features.

"I live within the building, on the 6th floor, so there's no issue nor great delay for when I tidy up, Mr. Wright. _However_ ," the butler gave him a knowing look. "I get the feeling if I were to stick around another moment, the two of you may very well murder me in my sleep! The Master _did_ indicate to me how long it had been since you saw one another and I have no desire to be a hindrance to your private reunion a minute longer!"

 _Holy testicles and great balls of fire!_ Maya desperately wished she could disappear into the floor at the sight of the manservant's twinkling eyes. _I am going to **kill** Edgy!_

Hendricks caught her stunned, embarrassed expression and gave a hearty chortle.

"Rest assured, I also have no wish to be witness, in any way, shape or form to your grossly long overdue reunion…which I imagine will be commencing the _instant_ you lovebirds you leave this table, hence _my_ desire to leave these premises, post-haste! Might I humbly request though, that you please allow an old man to at least get a head start out the front door before the _reconvening celebrations_ … commence?"

Phoenix shut his eyes, dreadfully wishing he hadn't forsaken his beanie that night, which he yearned to pull over his _entire face_ at that moment more than anything in the world! This was almost as bad as it'd been with the mischievous Mia and her racy japing about his love life with her sister! As if having a taunting future sister-in-law wasn't enough of a nightmare, _now_ they were subjected to a suddenly overly chatty _butler_ with a _wonderfully, awful_ sense of humor?!

_Why, oh, why couldn't Edgeworth have hired a stoic, zip-lipped, tight-ass instead?!_

"Oh, come on now, I was a young man once too, you know!" Hendricks chuckled, unabashed in the slightest. "As much fun as it's been serving you both whilst pretending to not notice the woeful, _homicidal_ looks exchanged between you all evening, I _do_ need to put an end to my torturous actions at _some_ point now, don't I?"

The butler ignored their crimson cheeks and gave a jaunty wink before turning back to Maya and bowing slightly.

"Your valise is in the master bedroom along with Mr. Wright's, Miss Fey. The bathroom is fully stocked with any essentials you may require and the refrigerator is chockfull should either of you get a mite puckish later ... after the, ah ... _rejoicing_ _festivities_. Now, I am going to take my leave. Good evening to you both."

With that, he then bowed, turned on his heel, and as promised, left the suite thereafter, leaving a mortified Maya and still blushing Phoenix in his wake.

"Holy mayonnaise and all the little condiments!" Maya glanced over at her boyfriend, who had walked over to the living room and flopped onto the sofa with an embarrassed hand now tightly clapped over his eyes. "I wonder how much of this will get back to Edgy?"

He grunted in response, which she supposed meant: _all of it!_

"I mean, if Hendricks wanted to ensure I _never_ wanted to have sex again, he did a great job!" Maya continued, pressing her hands against her still burning cheeks. "I mean, is it _that_ evident how badly I wanted to completely devour you the _minute_ I laid eyes on you tonight?"

Phoenix lifted one finger off his eye and turned his head towards her.

"Sweet sweating sailors! You thought he was calling _you_ out? I figured it was _me_ the old guy was mocking because it's been glaringly obvious that _I've_ been fantasizing about getting _you_ out of those clothes _before_ you even walked through that door!"

Maya's pulse quickened at the words; her embarrassment now vanished.

"Have you _truly_ been thinking that, Nick?" She asked coyly, a naughty glint in her eye now.

"You _know_ I have, Maya." Phoenix sat up and looked at her longingly. "Whether you're with me or not, day or night, I _always_ want you. I _crave_ you."

"Well, Mr. Wright…" Maya tilted her head to the side and gave him a coquettish smile. "If you wanted to still play _tour guide_ things…rest assured, there are indeed _certain_ things I am most eager to _explore_ …"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shania Twain - Still The One


	41. Almost Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought that dreams belonged to other men  
> 'Cause each time I got close, they'd fall apart again  
> I feel my heart a-beating in secrecy  
> I face the nights alone, oh how could I have known?  
> In all my life I only needed you
> 
> Oh, almost paradise  
> We're knocking on heaven's door  
> Almost paradise  
> How could we ask for more?  
> I swear that I could see forever in your eyes  
> Paradise
> 
> It seems like perfect love's so hard to find  
> I'd almost given up, you must have read my mind  
> And all these dreams I save for a rainy day  
> They're finally coming true, I'll share them all with you  
> 'Cause now we hold the future in our hands
> 
> Oh, almost paradise  
> We're knocking on heaven's door  
> Almost paradise  
> How could we ask for more?  
> I swear that I could see forever in your eyes  
> Paradise  
> And in your arms salvation's not so far away  
> It's getting closer, closer every day
> 
> Almost paradise  
> We're knocking on heaven's door  
> Almost paradise  
> How could we ask for more?  
> I swear that I could see forever in your eyes  
> Paradise, paradise  
> Paradise

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_** _  
Edgeworth Master Bedroom (aka Love Shack)_  
September 17, 2020, 7:05 PM

Edgeworth's place was enormous, Maya thought to herself as she and Phoenix plodded across the living room and down the hallway to where the sleeping quarters were.

There were two bedrooms, each separated at either end of the suite – both featuring a sitting area, walk-in closet, and each had a full bathroom.

Both restrooms boasted an oversized, walk-in rain shower which doubled as a steam room, was made of sleek glass tiles, and was separate from the sunken marble, deep-soaking tub. Vintage black and white film photography brought iconic and historic cultural moments to life on the walls. Maya poked her head into both, marveling at how the splendor of it all, before at last following Phoenix into Edgeworth and Franziska's boudoir.

The master bedroom was Classic European décor with rich, vibrant color tones, teak flooring, an expansive walk-in closet. Its an en-suite bathroom had exotic stones and custom-designed, marble mosaic flooring. The focal point of the room, however, was the enormous, immaculately made, California king-sized bed, which looked large enough to accommodate ten people.

Bedroom. Giant bed. Phoenix. Maya. _Alone_. _At last_.

That's when the reality finally sunk in for the two of them – they were _finally_ alone together, just as they'd been longing to be for far too long. But now that the time was there… _now what?_

Phoenix looked at Maya with the same bashful expression in his eyes that she'd glimpsed earlier that evening, and she suddenly felt every bit the quivering, timid virgin she'd been on the night of her 21st birthday a year and a half ago … excited, but so uncertain, and _so_ unsure how to proceed…

They approached one another timidly, hesitantly, as though the other were breakable. It had been so long since they'd been alone together, that the bond between them seemed fragile just then, both apprehensive about the future and the wounds they could inflict with all their jagged edges.

After staring at each other for what seemed like ages, tentatively, almost shyly, Phoenix leaned forward, tugged Maya's wrist, and pulled her toward him until she collided, somewhat startled, against his body, with her parted lips barely an inch apart from his. She put her hands on the back of his neck and pulled him closer until there they were standing in each other's arms. His lips were soft against her temple as he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest as if he'd been waiting for this forever and he's wasn't going to let her escape.

"Hey," he whispered after a while. His warm breath felt like heaven against her skin.

She turned tilted her head up to meet his gaze, his nose now touching hers, his lips one breath away, his eyes already devouring her, and she was a puddle with no arms or no legs. She could smell him everywhere; she could feel every point of his physique pressed against hers – his hands at her waist, gripping her hips, his legs flush against her own, his chest overpowering her with strength, his muscular frame built by bricks of desire.

Maya had never felt this secure. At last, in the middle of Edgeworth's bedroom, in Phoenix's embrace, everything else faded away, and she was completely safe. She wrapped her arms around his waist beneath his shirt, luxuriating in his strength. His breath wafted against the top of her head, and his heart was beating steadily beneath her cheek. The soft cotton of his thin black T-shirt felt comforting against her face. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy how he made everything feel so right.

Suddenly overcome with the urge to touch him, she drew back slightly and ran her fingers over his sculpted chest, rippling abs, and the ridges of his hipbones. Maya loved his narrow hips, especially when they were nestled between her thighs. She slid both hands up his back, over his shoulders, down his toned biceps, relishing her freedom to do so. She stroked his hips up and down with the palms of her hand, then shifted her touch to his granite pecs, lightly brushing her lips against his chest. His back muscles tightened beneath her hands and she knew he'd felt her kiss. Her gaze returned to his eyes, her breath catching at the desire simmering there. A shiver ran through him.

Phoenix pulled her back toward him, quickly, fiercely, and lowered his mouth to hers. With the first taste, he moaned. Maya's lips were sweet, soft…perfect. She exhaled, a contented sigh, and his body melted into hers. As if flawlessly harmonized, their mouths moved in the same rhythm, lips drawing in, hands learning curves and muscles, breaths coming out at faster rates. And when Maya knotted her hands in his hair, his self-control ruptured.

His arms became steel bands around her waist as he lifted her, basking in how perfectly she fit against him. She latched her arms around his neck and joined him as the kiss raced past innocent and into heated—bordering on out of control.

_You and I, it's as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught._

He kissed her harder, deeper, with a fervent urgent need he'd never known before. He broke for air only to bury his lips in her beckoning neck, along her collarbone, up her chin and cheeks.

The spinning in his head spiraled toward delirium as Maya shifted her legs, one thigh moving and the other one following to wrap around his hips. He relished her warm weight and the delectable feeling of her curves pressing into his body. Heat surged through his bloodstream and his fingers dug into her skin.

Maya's body lit up, an explosion of sensory awareness that set her ablaze. She wanted to draw him closer and rip his clothes right off him at that very instant. She wanted to strip naked and have him take her, right there in the middle of the bedroom floor.

Strong hands anchored on her backside, fingers hot and demanding, searing through her clothes. She ground against him encouragingly and he responded with a deep growl, yanking her against his rock-hard body while his mouth greedily feasted on hers.

She returned his kiss, opening her mouth and inviting him inside. It had been so long since they'd kissed, but she didn't _ever_ remember feeling it down to her toes. She poured all that she'd been feeling for the past torturous nine months into that kiss – from the initial agony she'd been experiencing since the day he'd left Kurain, to the despair she'd felt the entire time they'd been apart, to the joyous relief she felt that they were finally together now – as she pressed against him. Lifting her hands to his hair, she ran her fingers through the familiar spikes in the back.

_The gentle friction of even your fully clothed body rubbing against mine is enough to strike a match inside me. I lean into your lips as the fire blossoms and spreads._

She heard a moan but wasn't sure if it was his or her own. He surrounded her, consumed her, and she wanted to give him more to take.

But instead of getting closer, Phoenix unexpectedly set her back down and minutely pulled back, allowing room for a hand to travel under her shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of one breast. He explored her with tender caresses so at odds with the frantic tension exploding between them, palming the heaving mounds, rubbing his thumb over her tingling buds through the thin material covering them until they blossomed, begging to be sucked deep into the warm recesses of his mouth.

"Take this off," she begged between kisses. "I need to see you…to feel you against me."

She reached for the bottom of his T-shirt and pushed it higher. Phoenix stopped and watched her with passionate, sapphire orbs. They were exquisite, luminous, and full of love and longing … she reveled that this gorgeous, amazing man could want her so much. Thrumming liquid heat swelled low in her belly, threatening to boil over.

He raised his arms, pulling the fabric over his head and flinging it aside. She stared at him in awe; as always, he was so sculpted … so damn _beautiful_ to her. She'd felt his solid muscles working as he'd held her, and finally, she could feast her eyes upon him unabashedly.

_Anyone can be handsome, but **you** are rare._

He swallowed, as his eyes fell to her mouth. His fingers began working on the buttons of her blouse, slowly exposing her black, lacy bra and creamy flesh as his lips left a hot path from her jaw down her neck to her collarbone.

"This is finally going to happen," he breathed as he bent and ran a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses to the curve of her shoulder. His fingers were soft, brushing over her skin and giving goosebumps as he pushed the blouse down her arms. "Jesus, Maya. You're so beautiful. I've missed touching you like this. I missed my mouth on yours, missed my hands on your body … missed being deep inside of you."

He was making love to her with his words even though he was barely touching her, and her body came alive. Every inch of skin burned for his touch, her lower body hot and pulsing, and her breathing was shallow and rapid. His hands tangled in her hair, gently tugging her face closer to his. She stared up into his smoldering gaze, and this time she answered him the way she couldn't before.

"Let's forget this past year of hell we've gone through, being apart," she breathed into his mouth. "Make me forget, Nick. Make _us_ forget."

" _Maya_." Her skin was amazingly warm and the scents of her, the perfume at her throat and the exotic, unnamable aroma of her hair, made blood beat at his temples. "How I've hungered for your taste, your smell, the feel of your soul touching mine."

_And as I kissed her, the heat of her body increased and exhaled a wild, untamed fragrance..._

"I've been aching for this." She closed her eyes and offered up her mouth, silently begging to end her torture. "I can't wait for you to put your hands on my knees and think of me as a book you've been dying to read."

"Then let's continue this conversation in bed," he whispered. "My legs can't wait to hear what your hands have to say, either."

His fingers traced over the top swells of her bosoms, visible above the delicate edge of her bra. He peeled off her remaining clothing with deft, knowing movements. She was similarly frantic in undressing him, her hands clumsily reaching out to find the drawstring waistband of his jogging pants, which was tied shut, and she desperately worked the knot, her breathing nearly at a fevered pitch.

After what seems like ages, their clothing was finally discarded and they fell back onto the bed, frantically clawing at each other with wild urgency.

Phoenix's fervent hands and lips roamed her body insistently, expertly. She closed her eyes blissfully as his mouth ran along her cheekbone and then back toward her mouth, gasping as his lips wrapped around the crests of her bosoms, his tongue lapping at the engorged tips before surrounding it with wet heat and suction, making her gasp and writhe beneath him. He caressed her side from bust to hip and back again, over and over, gentling her as her heart raced wildly. He trailed kisses across her chest to the other breast, murmuring words of apology and need in a voice broken by love and the tormented misery they'd had to endure to finally get to this juncture.

" _Nick_." The erotic pull of his skillful lips on her heated skin coaxed desire through her restless mind. Her body was already lost in him, greedily seeking the rapture and beauty of his.

"I breathe you," he whispered. "You're everything. You're the air."

He teased her globes with his fingers and planted gentle kisses down her neck, feathering up and down her body while she urged him on with confident fingers, which were intimately roaming over every inch of his heightened body.

"Take me, Nick," she begged, arching against him. "Take me _now_."

He kissed between her breasts and took one of her peaks in his eager mouth as his hand glided across the surface of her skin, moving down to test her and shook his head.

"You aren't ready."

"But I _want_ you."

"I want you too. But it's been so long since we were last together. I want to set your body on fire first."

Maya's impatient desire was countered by Phoenix's commitment to see that each of their primal encounters was pleasurable for them both. He'd rather delay entrance and gratification until she was equally as mad with want, rather than speed along before her body was sufficiently aroused.

He trailed kisses down past her navel, and then moved lower, his hair caressing her stomach as he settled between her thighs. Spreading her legs further apart, he lowered his head and nipped her thigh right over her pulse point, sucking the flesh into his mouth, feeling the beat against his tongue as he moved his fingers along the seam of her moist folds, reveling in the soft cry she gave in response. The first moan was always his favorite, that long, drawn-out sound of demand and need.

"So ready," he whispered, wondering how he'd managed to wait this long to make love to this woman. "So wet. So willing."

Passion like this didn't burn out. No. The only way to extinguish the fire burning within them both was by coming together in a blaze, unlike anything he'd ever battled before. Running his tongue down and around toward what he wanted so badly, he pulled on her hips so he could get a taste of her sweetness.

At the first, unfamiliar touch of his mouth on her most intimate place, however, she stiffened and modestly tried to draw her legs closed. He held them firmly apart with his hands, looking up at her with an earnest and determined expression.

"Trust me, my love." His cadence was a husky murmur. "Don't pull away. It's been far too long. I need to make sure you're ready for me, so I can prove to you it was worth the wait."

His look of promise and tender persuasion was her undoing. She lay, trembling then, and let him love her with his talented lips and tongue as he'd never done before - light, teasing licks and fluttering dips across the tender flesh that took her to the brink of insanity.

He started from the outside and worked his way in, teasing each dip and swell with his tongue, tasting every inch of moist flesh. She squirmed beneath him, letting out sweet, panting little huffs. Her pulse accelerated, a rapid series of thumps beating against the hands he'd curled around her inner thighs. When he reached her center, he flicked his tongue, darting inside, drawing out her dew, then returning for more of her addicting flavor. God, she tasted good. His tongue surged deeper, wanting to reach the core of her.

Tension spread through her body, tightening everything until she felt like she might snap under the pressure. Maya's her back bowed and hoarse pleas left her lips as Phoenix's expert lip service, at last, pushed her over the edge, the tip of his tongue giving the softest nudge against her most sensitive spot, bringing her to sweet release.

"Oh, Nick!" She cried out, body arching, legs drawing together, closing him between them as heated relief pulsated through her writhing body. _"Nick!"_

Maybe he'd been wrong earlier. Her final moans might be his new favorite. Hell, all her moans were damn addicting. He didn't even care if they violated a noise ordinance.

As she slowly came back down to earth, Maya's satiated, lust-addled brain managed to register that even after the best climax of her life, what Phoenix had just done to her had been more than just a fantastic sexual experience.

It had been emotional too.

He had been surprisingly tender, paying attention to her desires, to every part of her. He'd taken the time to figure out what she liked. What she craved. How she wanted to be touched.

And now, he was still hard, still waiting for his turn, but not in a rush to get inside her. He wasn't trying to figure out how long it was going to be until he got to come.

Phoenix truly was the lover of her dreams. She never could have imagined being intimate could be like this. And she'd never known, not until tonight, that she'd needed, desperately needed, to be made love to like this.

Ardently. Wantonly. Without boundaries.

She was so grateful that she would have done anything right then to make him feel as good as she already did.

"I can't let you go, Maya." He levered over her as she continued to vibrate with pleasure. "I can't …"

She barely paused to catch her breath before sitting up and grabbing his head for a searing kiss before pushing him to recline on his back and straddle his hips.

"Then don't," Maya whispered and reached down to encircle his thick shaft. Oh, Lord, he was so big, so hot, and she was so ready to feel all that steely flesh inside her. Then, with a boldness she didn't know she had, she guided him to her.

She threw back her head and cried out as she sank down onto his erection. He instinctively lifted his hips, and she felt the tip of his rigid length nudge against her cervix. The heady ache consumed her.

"Yes, oh, my God, yes," she gasped, closing her eyes and feeling every inch of him buried deep inside her, her inner walls expanding to accept and accommodate him. She was hot and slick and more than ready for him now, tightening around him instinctively and fitting him like a glove.

When they were at last joined, she stared down into open midnight-blue eyes, their faces only a whisper apart. She moved with him painstakingly slowly, her eyes closing as she focused on the pleasurable sensation of feeling him inside her, before opening them again. Dark blue orbs, heavy with emotion, gazed up, unblinking, into wide chestnut ones. Every movement, every yearning was reflected between the couple's eyes.

"I've missed you so much." He nuzzled her nose with his as she gradually increased her pace, lifting his hips in synch to match her frenzied gyrations on top of him.

"Mystic Ami help me, how I've needed you like this, Nick –" Her last word was interrupted by a low moan. A delicious shudder came over her body as she rocked against him, amazed that he was able to bring her to the edge of glory again so quickly. "Oh Holy Mother, I'm so damn close … I've been waiting so long for this…"

"Me too, baby, me too. Christ, it's been too long," he rasped, bucking beneath her so that he was fully sheathed inside of her. "I was so worried after being apart all this time that you'd have moved on from me…"

"Never. It's _still_ you. It's still _you_." She stopped his mouth with a quick, clinging kiss that scattered his troubled thoughts like dead ashes. "We've gone beyond promises. Everything but this moment."

She reached down to catch his lips as her movements sped. Their tongues explored one another, refusing to allow their groans and confessions to interrupt their connection. He ran his fingers over her back and smoothed over her waist. He slipped his hands under the curve of her bottom so he could lift her slightly, increasing his leverage to go deeper, and take more of her, all the while his ministrations rubbing over a place inside her body that was bringing her such bliss. She wished he would continue forever, thrusting and driving.

Maya had become addicted to this, to _him_. She adored the way he looked at her in these passionate moments and how the world fell out of focus around them. She'd been aching and craving him all this time; to feel him loving her, moving with her, being one with her – he always made her feel so sensual, so beautiful. She would have said that any frenzied peak was an extra gift, in addition to the way she felt when they were conjoined.

She heard him groan and his thrusts were faster now, triggering the euphoric convulsions overcoming her again. Pleasure began to flow, to pull vigorously within her, in spasms that sent ecstasy shooting throughout her body, then traveling within every part of her, grasping her abdomen and stomach, down to her throbbing core. The orgasm sailed, then retreated to build and return until she was screaming at the high beams of the ceiling, her back arching, his back arching, his body slamming up against hers. She felt Phoenix's simultaneous release at that same moment, his euphoric sounds sparking her fierce yearning to a dizzy pitch, then slowly fulfilled it with piercing, welling intensity, until her own incited cry was swept away as he lifted his head to reclaim her lips with his as his hips slowed and finally stopped. Her body grew slack.

Finally, sweat drenching both their skins, she collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily for several moments before she felt his arms wrap around her waist, holding her against his glistening, chest, which was rapidly rising and falling. He rolled them over so she was lying cradled against his side on the bed now, both struggling to catch their breaths.

Phoenix reached over and smooth tucked an errant strand of hair back behind her ear.

"I love you," he murmured, brushing her lips with his. Gently he explored her face with his fingers as a blind man might; as if he had never seen it before and might never again. "I love you so much, Maya."

"I love you too, Nick." She smoothed the damp hair from his temples and smiled at him mischievously.

"But don't you get _too_ comfortable now, Buster! This was merely an _intermission_ , not the _final_ curtain call! There are nine whole months of making up that you've got to do here!"

"Have mercy, woman!" He half laughed, half pleaded, although putting up no resistance as her tiny hands pinned his broad shoulders down then. She flashed a vixenish grin that made her intentions _quite_ clear.

"It's been nearly a year for _me_ , too! You'll be the death of me, Maya Fey!"

"Then you'll die the happiest old man on earth." Maya winked lasciviously. " _Giddy-up, cowboy_."

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
Edgeworth Master Bedroom (aka Love Shack)  
September 18, 2020, 7:05 AM

The next morning, a still exhausted but happily sated Maya awoke with her head on Phoenix's chest, with his arms wrapped around her. He stirred slightly and stroked her satiny hair, down to her smooth back, and then back up again, eyes still closed.

Placing a kiss on his warm, bare chest, she leaned up on one elbow.

"Can we talk a bit now?"

"Not until I've had my coffee," he mumbled.

"Nick!" She playfully hit him over the head with her pillow. He still didn't stir or open his eyes.

"Woman, I am _spent_! You made me ravage you _three_ times last night, you insatiable wanton seductress! You're lucky all my _necessary_ parts are still attached to my body!"

"I didn't hear you complaining at the time!" Maya swallowed back a giggle and leaned over to kiss him. "But fine, how about _I_ talk, _you_ listen?"

"Deal." Phoenix dropped his arm over his eyes.

And so, Maya then proceeded to him in about what she'd faced back in Kurain when she and Pearl had returned. When she got to the part about The Dragon Lady nearly hitting her cousin, Phoenix jolted up in the bed, his eyes ablaze, now fully alert. Even after reassuring him that her sister had stopped Mildew before she'd ever laid a hand on Pearl, she could still sense his anger at hearing that part of the story. However, he let out a shout of laughter when he heard about Mia's merciless tirade, along with the pseudo-banishment of Mildred to the outskirts of the village to oversee the cabin rental project with Bikini, and how despite having Fey Manor restored to its former glory, the harrowing memories of the shagadelic 70's décor remained etched into her mind.

"I almost wish I'd taken photos to show you, but that would mean _never_ getting the images of _paisley_ out of my head!" Maya shuddered.

"Thanks for sparing me the sight, although rest assured, my love, your depictions are most vivid," Phoenix assured her, twirling a strand her long hair around his fingers.

"I'm so glad Mia and Edgy came through with their legal stuff!" She enthused. "It honestly was what I needed to attack that Dragon Lady and stuff her back into her cave!"

"I wish I could have helped you out more in that department," he stated quietly. "I'm sure you could have really benefited from a local attorney's services to have assisted in you with that whole Kurain mess."

Maya looked up at him, although in the dark, shady room, with the drapes closed, it was difficult to make out his expression. She hoped he wasn't about to get depressed about his plight again. She decided to change the subject.

"I hope the Elders – the _non-mean_ ones, don't think I was too brutal with Mildew," she fretted. "Or worse, are disappointed in my inabilities which led to my collapse, and see me a failure of a Master,"

"I don't think anybody is disappointed in you," he reassured her. "I'm sure they're pleased to have you back. They're not telling you to quit, are they?"

"Well, no, I don't think so anyway…"

"See? You're not a failure. Not like me."

"Oh, Nick! You're not a failure," she implored unequivocally, immediately engaging herself with his problems. "Don't beat yourself up over this again! You know that's exactly what the person who framed you _wants_!"

"Yeah, I guess. But I can't help it! And I know everyone thinks I forged that evidence."

"But _I_ know you didn't do it. If anyone thinks you did, then they obviously didn't really know you and aren't worth your time, anyway."

"Thanks," mumbled the hobo, a gross understatement of the immense gratitude he felt for her unwavering loyalty. "But it completely ruins any career prospects. For example, this poker job is terrible. I'm always paranoid I'll lose and be fired."

"Poker?" She asked blankly. "I thought you played the piano?"

The clandestine poker champion cursed his slip of the tongue and chose his next words carefully, still loathe to confide to his unassuming lover that his pianist position was a thinly veiled front for being that of a card shark.

"Um, they have me playing cards at this place too now. But they only keep me so long as I keep winning."

"Does it matter?" Maya demanded. "If you were smart enough to pass law school, I'm sure you can find something else to do..."

"Well … I'm sticking around mostly to see if Trucy's father is ever going to turn up. If he does, it will probably be on the poker circuit."

The diviner squizzed at him quizzically and he carefully stretched the truth as much as he could without flat-out lying.

"We have a ... card room downstairs where patrons can play poker from time to time and Zak was obsessed with the game. Therefore, hanging about might be the only way to find him!" He cried out in exasperation. "I just can't seem to stop obsessing over this though, Maya! I've _got_ to find out who did this, and what actually happened. I don't know how much longer I can take this, any more than I know what the future will bring..."

"It'll be okay, Nick," she whispered. "Know that I'll always be here for you, whatever happens."

Phoenix only nodded in agreement and moved down for a kiss.

"You know, since we sort of rushed straight here into the bedroom, you skimped out on giving me that promised tour, so we never _did_ get a chance to check out all the bells and whistles this place has!"

The exuberant necromancer suddenly realized, hopping out of the bed and flicking on the bedside lamp. He smiled with amused admiration as he watched his swain's flawless, bare form bounce around the room, long raven waves floating behind her, running her fingers over everything she could get her hands on, like a kid in a candy store.

"Hey Nick, check this out!" She grabbed a small remote from the dresser table and started to randomly punch some buttons. "I wonder this does?"

"Maya stop touching stuff if you don't know what it is!"

"Why not? This is an adventure, and for the next two days, I'm on _vacation_ , Old Man!" She hit another button, and suddenly the wood panel in front of the bed began to flip over, exposing an enormous, 60-inch flat-screen TV.

"Wow, Edgy's like Batman!" Her eyes were wide. "I'll bet he even gets the foreign cartoon channels on this thing!"

"That _is_ a pretty sweet setup," the DILF admitted. "I think this is the TV remote here on my bedside table..."

He busied himself flicking through the channels while Maya kept pushing the buttons on the magical mystery remote.

"Awesome!" She exclaimed, as the drapes on the floor to ceiling windows suddenly began to be drawn back, as if on their own. She walked over to the glass and pressed her nose against it. "Nick, you should come and see the view from up here! It's _incredible_!"

"Not as incredible as the view I'm sure _you're_ giving the people in the penthouse across the courtyard, Maya," Phoenix admonished. "Can you please get your _naked behind_ away from the window now?"

"You're such a stick in the mud!" Maya turned away from the window and casually pulled her long hair down the front of her shoulders, arranging it so it draped over her chest in some semblance of modesty. "And if you're so worried about my decency, maybe _you_ should turn off the light then!"

"What?" Phoenix raised an eyebrow suggestively. "And interrupt _my_ viewing pleasure, then?"

Maya giggled and then headed over to the bathroom.

"Man, this john is _huge!_ The tub is a _whirlpool_ one! We should totally take a bubble bath together later!" She called out to him. "The _toilets_ are even made of marble! Aw! This is so cute, Nick! Edgy's even got a little drinking fountain here set up for Pess!"

"Maya, that's a _bidet_!"

"Oops!" The Master poked her head of the room and grinned sheepishly. "Hey, what's this weird paper bag poking out of your overnight bag in the corner?"

She walked over to it; her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Oh yeah, that's for you. You need to make sure you wear that stuff every single time you come here from now on, going forward."

Maya examined herself in front of the full-length mirror behind the door before twirling around so her boyfriend could see the transformative effect of the long golden blonde wig, over-sized sunglasses, and black trench coat.

"Coolio!" She exclaimed, making exaggerated duck faces at her reflection in front of the glass. "I look like a movie star trying to be undercover from the prying eyes of the paparazzi!"

 _The key thing is, you also won't look anything like **you** if noticed by the **spying, stalker eyes** of **Kristoph Gavin** ,_ Phoenix was beyond relieved that the costume had the desired effect of making his girlfriend look completely unrecognizable. _Thank Christ for small miracles._

"Why the flaxen hair, Nick?" Maya teased. "Do gentlemen _truly_ prefer blondes? Or is this just your way of saying you want to do some kinky role-playing?"

" _This_ gentleman doesn't," he chuckled. "But while I wouldn't kick you out of my bed if you were to keep that wig on, the key thing is you _don't_ look like the Master of Kurain anymore, which is the whole point. Please, Maya, just trust me on this one, OK? I don't want to take any chances."

"Whatever you say!" Maya pulled off the coat, hat, and glasses and continued to poke around the room, while Phoenix kept staring at the TV screen, still flipping channels. "Your quirky fetish wish is my command!"

Suddenly, the spirit medium squealed with delight.

"Omigod, Nick! Check _this_ out! Edgy has the _original film print_ from the _actual movie reel_ of the first _Steel Samurai_ flick mounted in a case on the wall here!" She crowed excitedly.

"Put it back, Maya," Phoenix instructed, without even turning his head.

"What the –" the diviner gawked at him, wide-eyed, her hand on the small, framed item, wondering how her boyfriend had known what she was up to when he hadn't even once taken his eyes off the screen. "How did you know I going to take it off the wall?!"

"Because after all these years of enduring your attempted and successful endeavors of helping yourself to various coveted items from crime scenes by exercising your 'five-finger discounts' MO, I _know_ you, my little kleptomaniac."

The ex-lawyer finally swiveled his head towards her with a knowing smirk.

"And knowing Edgeworth, he's probably got an alarm rigged to that thing. Unless you want the heat busting in here at any moment, I suggest you take your hot little hands off that thing and _step_ _away_ from the merchandise."

"He does _not_ have an alarm on this thing!" The Master triumphantly removed the film print from the wall. "And he's got so much _Steel Samurai_ stuff already, I'm sure he'll never miss _this_ teeny thing…wait, there was a note behind it on the wall. _What the heck…?!"_

Her tone was incredulous as she read the reprimanding message aloud.

" _Miss Fey. Put. It. Back._ **_Now_**."

The diviner scowled, hung the framed item back up, and hurled herself back onto the bed beside her sniggering boyfriend.

"Stop laughing, Nick!" She swatted him in the arm. "You're _all_ a bunch of big ol' meanies!"

"Come here, my sticky-fingered lady," the pianist coaxed, pulling her sulky form against him and dropping a kiss atop her head. "We shouldn't be spending the rest of your vacation with you pouting!"

"You're right, Nick." She brightened up then and leaned over to peck him on the lips. "So, tell me, how did the channeling go with Pearls yesterday at the conference? Was it as successful as you'd hoped?"

"It went _better_ than I could have hoped! The audience was _mesmerized_ , watching a little girl transform into a grown woman right before their very eyes. This will be so great for business! And of course, you know it's always a bittersweet joy for me to visit with Sis, however briefly."

"I owe that woman so much," Phoenix reflected. "Even in the afterlife, she's there for me when I need her. Pearls channeled her for me, that first night you were in a coma, and honestly, Maya, talking to Mia was just what I needed, though I'm glad you didn't see me fall apart on her. I think the scariest part of my disbarment was having her find out."

"Did she have some miraculous answer that saved the day, as always?"

He sighed and wrapped his arms around Maya, resting his head on hers. "I don't think this one's going to be that easy, but she did remind me of something very important."

"What's that?"

"I'm not doing this by myself. I think I lost sight of that, but this is no different from when I was still practicing. You and me, my love, with friends like Gumshoe and Edgeworth…there's _nothing_ we can't achieve."

"And as long as you and I have _each other_ ," Maya added, looking up at him with loving eyes. "The sky's the limit. _We can do_ _anything_."

Phoenix nodded and simply held his girlfriend close to him.

"Let's get back to your next move. Nick. What do you have going on in the pipeline?"

"Well, I have Edgeworth overseas, keeping an eye out for any information on the Gavins. I have Trucy at home to keep me sane. I have an eternal mentor now to push me along and," he smiled lovingly down at Maya. "I have the love of my life in my arms right now, giving me a reason to fight."

"We'll figure this out," Maya promised, scooting closer to her boyfriend and nuzzling into him. "But while we're together right now, let's just please take a break from all that? Today, and again tonight, it's just us."

"Sounds like a plan," Phoenix agreed amiably and lowered his lips down to hers in a tender kiss.

_I am your moon and your moonlight. I am your flower garden and your water too. I have come all this way, eager for you. Without shoes or shawl. I want you to laugh. To kill all your worries. To love you. To nourish you._

Yes, his future was still uncertain and he still had zero plan of attack, but he felt far better about it now. It was only a matter of time and, if that time was spent like this, with the woman he loved in his arms, then he really _could_ get through anything.

_There may be more beautiful times, but this one is **ours.**_

Maya wrapped her arms around her soulmate's neck, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened. She had never imagined how wonderful it could be to awaken in the morning and find herself wrapped in the arms of someone he loved. Such a peaceful feeling, a safe feeling. It made the prospect of her coming day so much brighter, knowing she'd have Phoenix to share it with when she came home again that evening, as well as tomorrow. And she knew that _someday_ , _somehow_ , in the future, that the day would eventually come when _all_ her tomorrows would be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mike Reno & Ann Wilson – Almost Paradise


	42. Pardon My Sobbing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Being a single parent is twice the work, twice the stress, and twice the tears, but also twice the love, twice the tears, and twice the pride."

_**Phoenix Wright  
**_ _Wright Talent Agency_ _ **  
**_September 2, 2023, 2:30 AM

He never saw it coming.

It was just a _movie_.

Phoenix was completely unprepared for the repercussions of _The Pursuit of Happyness_ from both Pearl, now 13, and 12-year-old Trucy that afternoon before he headed out to work that evening.

The Will Smith drama was one he thoroughly enjoyed, and so he'd ordered it on Netflix for his daughter and her "cousin." The online monthly subscription to unlimited movies and TV shows was _such_ a great concept his little girl had introduced him to! He'd figured he would just rent the DVD from the video rental place…until Trucy had reminded her not-so-tech-savvy father that those places _didn't exist_ anymore!

Pearl was staying over that weekend, which she tended to do once or twice a month when Maya was away, in this case at a weekend conference somewhere in the remote deserts of New Mexico, where she'd warned him had weak cell and internet reception. At first, she'd been fretful about her ward being in his care at a time when she would most likely be completely indisposed, but he'd assured his girlfriend that all would be fine.

After all, Pearl had stayed over many times since she and Trucy had met, and both girls were now old enough to stay alone without needing a babysitter – although Maya's cousin often made a point to still drop in on her aunt and uncle whenever she was down in the city, so he knew if anything were to go awry while he was at work, the Gumshoes lived nearby and would be there at a moment's notice if needed.

Besides, his daughter was supposed to work at The Wonder Bar that evening, so he figured that by the time he got home from work that night, either both girls would have gone home with the Gumshoes, who rarely missed a show and stayed over there for the night and would be back the next morning, or would be in bed since he often got back at nearly three in the morning.

That night, Phoenix got in a bit earlier, about half-past two, as he'd gotten a ride home from Tyler. The bartender had asked if he could run in and use the bathroom, as well as say a quick hello to Pearl, whom he'd not seen in ages, on the off-chance she was still awake.

"I haven't seen Pearl in ages," Tyler was saying as they walked down the hall to Phoenix's place. "Tell her to stop in on Sasha and the twins the next time she's down, they'd love to see her! Trucy too. We love those girls – they're so sweet!"

"Yup, they're great," Phoenix agreed, putting his key into the lock. "Delightfully low-maintenance too, the both of them. I sure got lucky there! But we should keep it down…since Gumshoe didn't message me that they're staying at his place tonight, they're both here, but may already be in bed."

"No problem," his friend whispered as Phoenix quietly opened the door and flicked on the light.

Both men were completely unprepared for the astounding sight that greeted them.

Empty bowls of what looked like melted ice cream were laid on the floor, along with several empty bags of potato chips, soda cans…and crumped tissues.

In the sitting area of the office, instead of being in bed, both Trucy and Pearl were wide awake and sitting on the sofa in the office, in front of the small television set, legs stretched out onto the couch while sitting at opposite ends, with a blanket over both of their legs, and tissues clenched in each of their hands as they sobbed relentlessly at whatever was on the screen.

"What in the _world_?" Tyler gasped.

"Trucy, Pearls, are you alright?" The hobo was alarmed.

Neither girl appeared to have taken notice of their presence just yet, they didn't pry their eyes off the television. Phoenix stared at them, completely flummoxed.

_I rented them_ _ **The Pursuit of Happyness**_ _,_ he thought wildly, staring helplessly at the two overwrought girls. _Did I screw up and accidentally order_ _ **Bambi,**_ _by mistake?_

That had to be the only explanation for both Pearl and Trucy's currently wailing disposition, in such a demonstrative, emotional fashion that it would have put even _Larry Butz_ to shame!

_I don't get it. OK, fine, it is_ _**kind of** _ _a sad movie,_ _**somewhat** _ _… but it still had a great ending! What gives?_

"It's so heart-breaking, Pearly!" Trucy cried, the tears pouring down her cheeks in a never-ending stream. "That poor little boy and his daddy have no home!"

"They're s-sleeping in a b-bathroom!" Pearl wept, dabbing at her eyes with her soggy tissue. "It's so _unfair_!"

Phoenix looked back at Tyler, who was still standing behind him, speechless, his dark eyes wide with panic, before turning back to the two girls, at last finding his voice again.

"Um, Truce? Pearls? Are you guys alright?" He asked awkwardly. "Is everything OK?"

Both girls lifted their gazes from the movie and he found himself affixed by two sets of red-rimmed eyes.

"Mr. Nick, why didn't you tell us this movie was so _sad!"_ Pearl demanded, trying to contain her sobs, her gray-eyes looking at him accusingly. "How could you be so insensitive?"

Phoenix was flummoxed.

"I, um…er…"

Pearl, at last, took note of the young man now cowering behind Phoenix – a neat trick to achieve, as the bartender towered over him by about a goof half-foot. The bartender desperately looked like he wished he could disappear.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Tyler. I didn't see you there at first."

"Hi Pearl," Tyler waved from behind the spiky-haired man's back with a weak smile. "Hiya, Trucy."

"Hi, Tyler." Trucy sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. "Pearly's right though, Daddy! Why would you get us such a _depressing movie_ and not even _warn_ us?"

" _Yeah!"_ Pearl added, as indignantly as one possibly could muster while loudly blowing her nose to the tune of a one-note, honking trumpet. "That's _mean_ , Mr. Nick!"

"I – I… _Aye Yai Yai_ …" Phoenix was at a complete loss for words. "Um…sorry?"

"Oh, Daddy!" Trucy whimpered suddenly, lurching off the couch and hurling herself at her father then, burying her head into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist. "That poor man in the movie is a _single Papa_ , just like you! He sacrificed so much for his son, just like _you_ have for _me_!|"

Her tiny body shook with sobs.

"And I feel so bad! At least _he_ had a wife, in the beginning! But you – _you've_ never even gotten married or had your _own_ family, and it's all because of _me_! It's all my fault! _I ruined your life_! I –I'm so sorry!"

Phoenix looked helplessly down at the shaking mess that was his daughter, trying to speak soothingly and smooth her hair, when suddenly Pearl jumped up and buried her head against his other side.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mr. Nick!" She wept, throwing her arms around him as well. "You're not mean! Y- You're _wonderful_! You're the only father I've ever really known!"

"I love you, Daddy!" Trucy wept.

"I love you too, Mr. Nick!"

"Pearls…Trucy…I…" Phoenix shot a frantic glance at Tyler, who had stealthily been inching away and backing up towards the door this whole time. "Hey, where are _you_ going? I thought you needed to use the bathroom!"

"Um, I've decided I don't need to go _that_ badly…" his friend mumbled, pointedly ignoring the pleading expression in the hobo's eyes. "And by the way, I have a wife and _two_ toddler daughters at home, so I _will_ have _my due time_ to be _exactly_ where _you_ are right now…in about a _decade_! So, for this reason alone, I have _no_ qualms _whatsoever_ about saying … good-night, bud! And good luck! _You're going to need it_! See ya at work tomorrow!"

With that, Tyler bolted from the office, not even pausing to shut the door behind him, leaving a hapless Phoenix standing there, alone, alarmed, and defenselessly sandwiched between two inexplicably hysterical adolescent girls, who had gone from being _mad_ at him to _loving_ him … all within the course of _two minutes_!

He silently cursed and envied his friend for his easy, hasty exit.

_Tyler you bum! You_ _**suck** _ _! A_ _**real** _ _friend woulda stuck around…or at least offered to take me_ _**with** _ _him!_

The pianist had never felt more powerless …or confused in his entire life. Worst of all, he had no inkling about what could have possibly caused this insane situation, or how to handle it. _Of all the blasted times_ for Maya to be unreachable… what on earth was he to going to do _now_?!

He awkwardly patted both girls on their heads and stifled a sigh of resignation.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Larry Butz  
**_ _Wright Talent Agency_ _ **  
**_September 2, 2023, 11:30 AM

"Pearls? Truce?" Phoenix called, setting the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter. "I'm back from the store!"

No answer.

"Baby girl, I got that Ben & Jerry's you wanted!"

He busied himself putting away the smorgasbord of food his daughter and Pearl had requested from the store – various and copious amounts of chocolate bars, brownies, ramen noodles, more potato chips, _and_ more soda. He thought he'd bought enough treats and munchies for the _three_ of them to at _least_ last the whole weekend, but it appeared a tapeworm had overcome both girls the night before. They had somehow gone through _everything_ in the place!

_Thundering tintypes of Teddy Roosevelt in a three-wheeled baby carriage with a bonus jar of mustache wax! Old Mother Hubbard had probably a less barren cupboard!_

Also, he'd needed to buy several more boxes of _tissues_. By the time he'd comforted and quieted down the two adolescents and sent them to bed, it had been nearly four in the morning, and there hadn't been a single-ply left in the place.

"You got my ice-cream, Daddy?" Trucy plodded into the room, still in her pajamas, looking like something the cat had dragged in. "Thanks so much. Pearly and I are absolutely _starved!"_

Phoenix gawked incredulously at the bottomless pit that used to be his daughter for a full half-minute.

_Hgnnfff! How can they possibly be hungry when they ate an entire convenience store's worth of junk not even eight hours ago?! I just don't can't fathom_ _how in the name of Richard the Lionheart's codpiece_ _two such tiny girls could put away more food than the entire L.A. Rams' football team?! I don't care if one of them_ _**is** _ _my gluttonous girlfriend's cousin!_

Chalking up this behavioral turnabout as one of life's many unsolved mysteries, he gave a mental shrug and reached over, playfully tousling the magician's already rumpled hair and treating her to an indulgent smile.

"I ordered some pizza for lunch before I stepped out, Truce. It should be here soon."

The pint-sized illusionist had just grabbed two bowls and was about to scoop out the frozen dessert when she let out an outraged shriek of such a high decibel, her startled father was certain only _dogs_ would be able to hear it!

" _Daddy!"_ She howled, slamming the carton down on the counter in a manner, not at all dissimilar to her parent's courtroom desk poundings. "How could you _do_ this to me?"

"What's wrong, baby-girl?" Phoenix fretted, rushing over to her side, abandoning the coffee he'd been about to pour for himself. "What did I do wrong?"

"I asked you for chocolate-chip _mint_ ice-cream!" Was the anguished reply. "And you got me just _plain_ chocolate-chip ice-cream!"

"I'm sorry, Truce. But they were completely sold out of the mint chocolate-chip kind. I figured this one would be just as good…"

"Daddy, you should know I _hate_ vanilla chocolate chip!" Without warning, Trucy burst into tears. "After all this time, you still don't even know your own daughter!"

Phoenix cast a surreptitious glance at the garbage pail by his feet, which contained not one, but _two_ empty tubs of said despised chocolate-chip vanilla Ben & Jerry's, which belied this latest evidence, but wisely kept his peace.

Instead, he looked wearily at this demonic entity that seemed to have taken over his sweet little girl, wondering if it was at all possible she was somehow being invaded by the malevolent spirit of his ex-girlfriend, Dahlia Hawthorne!

" _Wah!_ You don't love me!" Trucy was really getting worked up now, her tiny face drenched with tears. "Admit it, Daddy, you _hate_ me! Why _else_ would you _do_ this to me?"

"Truce, don't be ridiculous!" Phoenix protested helplessly, unsure about what to say or do to diffuse the nuclear-style explosion he had unwittingly detonated. " _Please_ stop crying! Of course, I love you!"

He was right back to where he'd been last night…and equally as flummoxed! He couldn't see how the situation could possibly get _any worse_.

At that moment, there was a knock at the front door.

"Hey Nick, it's me! Open up!" The unmistakable sound of Larry Butz's voice could be heard on the other side of the door. "Did you order pizza?"

The beanie-wearer couldn't stifle the groan that emitted from his lips this time.

_When I wondered how things could get worse, it was_ _**a rhetorical ponder,** _ _not a_ _**challenge!** _

"I'll get the door, Mr. Nick," called Pearl, as Phoenix put his arms around the still-mewling Trucy, who refused to be consoled despite his pleas with her to calm down.

"Thanks, Pearls!" He hollered across the apartment, still trying to somehow mollify his weepy daughter, while simultaneously feeling relieved that of the two of them, at least Maya's cousin sounded comparatively normal this morning.

He placed his hands on Trucy's shoulders and looked her squarely in the eye.

"Truce, come on, I'm _sorry!_ I will go check the other grocery store for your ice-cream after we have some pizza, alright? I was just in a rush to get back before the delivery guy got here so I could pay him. Please don't be so sad. You know I love you, right?"

"OK, Daddy," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me. I woke up this morning with such a bad headache! And I don't know why! Last night I couldn't even go to work because my back was aching so badly…I couldn't even go to work!"

"You didn't go to work?" Phoenix was genuinely alarmed now. "Your back was aching? Truce, how long have you been under the weather? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I had some ice-cream and laid back on the sofa, and then I felt better after a little while. I just thought maybe I'd caught a trace of whatever Pearly had. She said she felt weird stomach and back pains last night, too."

_**Pearls** _ _has the same symptoms as well?! Well, this just_ _**keeps** _ _getting better! Great! Just great! Are_ _**both** _ _my girls coming down with something?_

Phoenix clapped a hand to his head. Good grief, was _he_ going to be next?

_Because whatever it this is, it sounds hella contagious!_

He couldn't afford to miss work! But who would want to hear the ear-grating caterwauling of a sickly pianist who had a frog in his throat?!

"Hey, Trucy doll!" Larry walked into the kitchen, Pearl in tow, and set down the large, flat box onto the counter. "Dry those tears, Uncle Larry's here!"

Ever since the disbarring, the Butz had been off on various art tours which took him to parts of Europe, Asia, and even Africa for the most part. He'd only been in LA for perhaps a month in total these past four years but had kept in touch with his longtime pal, never one to forsake his childhood friend, for which he supposed he was grateful.

Larry hadn't abandoned him, Phoenix mused, but he hadn't put much faith in his innocence either, upon hearing the news.

"Fired from your big-shot job? Stupid Nick, ah we all make mistakes at work. No, I didn't think it was my fault either when the fryer burned down at the fast-food place, although they all claimed it was!"

And of course, the disbarred legist couldn't expect Larry to ever believe him. Whole segments of his life now were effectively an act. It was no coincidence he paid little heed to personal grooming and donned that investigatory hat, save for during his clandestine bi-monthly visits with Maya at Edgeworth's love-shack, which curtailed his true identity. Often, he feared the old adage of eventually becoming what you pretended to be wasn't too far off.

It was all a lie … he _was_ a fraud.

The irony of the situation hadn't escaped him, however, that the tables had now been turned; _Larry_ was the artist of semi-minor fame, and _he_ was the loser criminal hobo.

The world-class children's book illustrator, who still went by the professional name of Laurice Deauxnim in honor of his late mentor, Elise Deauxnim (the pseudonym Misty Fey had been going by before she'd passed), looked the same as ever, goofy grin in place over his neatly trimmed goatee, and spiky brown hair sitting underneath his orange artist beret, which had accompanied his monkey-emblemed, pink sweater ensemble ever since he'd taken up the artist path in life four years prior.

_There is that one saving grace about the Butz_ , Phoenix thought now as he flashed his unexpected visitor a dry smile. _He's the_ _ **only**_ _one who doesn't bust my chops about_ _ **my**_ _hat, but only because_ _ **he**_ _persists in wearing_ _that_ _ridiculous artist cap on his head_ _wherever_ _he goes!_

For once, though, the DILF was grateful for the distraction of his friend's presence. Trucy was always on her best behavior around the company.

"Hi, Larry. This is a surprise! I haven't seen you since you … installed my webcam for me a few years back."

The children's illustrator flashed a not-so-discreet wink. He could be trusted to keep mum about with whom the poker champ was web-chatting around Trucy, as he was aware of Phoenix's secret romance with Maya. However, not even the artist was privy to a lot of the details, such as how often they met up in secret at Edgeworth's residence, or of the complex reasons why he was forced to keep it a secret from his daughter. The former attorney had simply stated that he would tell his little girl about his girlfriend when the time was right.

"Well, I'm glad I could help my buddy keep in touch with those nearest and dearest to him! Besides, if I'm in town, I've gotta drop in on my best friend! By the way Nick, I paid the pizza guy for you."

_Wow! That was unexpectedly nice of him!_ Phoenix was taken aback but touched by his friend's unexpected generosity. _Will wonders never cease?!_

Just as he was about to thank the other man, the infamous ne'er-do-well proceeded to prove that he was consistent, if nothing else!

"You owe me twenty bucks."

_Never mind, spoke too soon! The Butz_ _**still** _ _reeks, in more ways than one!_

Larry was already opening the box and about to help himself to a slice, then let out a yelp of protest when Phoenix snapped the lid down on his fingers.

"Hey! What gives, Nick?"

"Sorry Larry, I've got _two very hungry_ mouths to feed," he said curtly, hardly suppressing the urge to roll his eyes as he tersely handed over the money. "Girls, dig in!"

_Jeez, for all the times I've saved his sorry ass in court,_ _**pro bono** _ _, you'd think the damn cheapskate wouldn't nickel and dime me over a lousy pizza!_

"But you've got an extra-large there!" Larry whined pitifully. Noting Phoenix's unrelenting expression, he then turned to Trucy, who'd slapped two pizza slices together and already taken a huge bite. Leaning down over the child, he playfully tapped her nose. "Hey Truce, long time no see! Just look at you now! You've gotten so big!"

" _Big?!"_ Trucy screeched, as though mortally wounded. She dropped the pizza back onto her plate and glared at Larry with stormy blue eyes. "What does _that_ mean? Are you saying I look _fat_ or something, Uncle Larry?"

Phoenix sighed and rubbed his temples.

_Nice going Butz, getting her all riled up again…_

" _Fat!_ N –no! Of course not!" Larry stammered nervously, backing away from the fuming girl. "I just meant you've _grown_ so much since the last time I saw you!"

He looked pleadingly at Pearl.

" _You_ know what I mean … right? The _both_ of you do!"

"What?! That's so _cruel_ , Mr. Larry!" Pearl burst into impromptu tears. "Are you saying _I_ look _fat_ now, too?"

"Grrr! You butt-wipe! You made my cousin _cry!"_

Without warning, Trucy suddenly did a rapid spinning kick, which, since he was still bent over her, caught him square in the mid-section. Larry tumbled backward to the ground, completely winded.

Phoenix had heard all about the hilarious tale of Pearl's martial arts maneuver on Mildew a few years ago, but this was the first time he'd ever seen his _daughter_ make someone a victim of the move! He barely stifled a chuckle at the sight of his friend rolling on the ground, clutching his stomach while wheezing dramatically.

_Oh, knock it off, you wimp! Luckily for you, Trucy was only wearing socks instead of her usual hard-toed magician boots!_

"I'm sorry, Larry," he apologized, hoping he sounded sincere. "I _really_ need to talk to Sasha, my buddy's wife, about teaching the girls those MMA moves … and how they're not to be used unless in _extreme_ situations!"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Larry!" Trucy was crying too now. "I – I don't know what came over me!"

"He called you and me _fat_ , that's what happened!" Pearl had recovered from her tears and stomped over to Larry, reaching down and whacking at him with her tiny hands. "You horrible, big ol' _meanie stink-face!"_

"What the hell! No, I didn't! Stop it, Pearl!" Larry complained, putting his arms over his head in an unsuccessful effort to stop the infamous round of Fey slaps and smacks. "Ouch! That _hurts_!"

Phoenix couldn't help himself; he literally snorted with laughter for nearly a minute before feigning the role of a responsible adult and plucking the enraged Pearl away from Larry, finally allowing him to rise again.

"You see that?" He snickered. "It's not so funny being on the _receiving_ end of those Fey fists of fury, now, is it?"

Larry scowled at him before turning to the sullen girls.

"Trucy, Pearl, I'm sorry if I unintentionally hurt your feelings. I haven't seen you two in ages, and what I _should_ have said was you've both gotten so much _taller_ since I saw you last. Not _bigger_ , as in fat." He smiled hopefully at the volatile pair. "So, are we friends again?"

"Of course, we are, Uncle Larry!" Trucy beamed and wrapped her arms around him in a big hug. "No hard feelings!"

"We forgive you, Mr. Larry!" Pearl bounced over and hugged him too. "And _we're_ sorry too!"

Phoenix gaped at this whole scene in disbelief, wondering if he had unwittingly entered some sort of alternate dimension. How the _hell_ had the girls gone and done a complete 180-degree _turnabout_ like that, from _violent, teary rage_ to _apologies and hugs_ , within the blink of an eye?! And without any preamble?!

_What's next? The infamous flying split-pea soup regurgitation? Or will it be their heads will start spinning around first?!_

Right on cue, Trucy suddenly yanked herself away from Larry and looked pained.

"Oh no," she groaned, clutching her stomach. "I don't feel so good. I think I need to …"

She took a few shallow, ragged, breaths, then made an impromptu bolt towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

" _Trucy!"_ Phoenix cried. "Are you all right?"

The girl didn't reply, but they all heard her moaning softly from behind the closed door.

"Trucy!" The alarmed father went and rapped on the door. "Baby girl, talk to me! Are you OK? I'm really worried!"

"Um, let me try, Mr. Nick," Pearl offered after a few more moments went by and the knob didn't turn. She rapped on the door. "Trucy, it's Pearly. Let me in, please?"

The door opened a crack, and Pearl stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind her.

The pianist cast a worried glance back at Larry, pulling off his hat and running both his hands through his spikes in agitation.

"Goddammit! I don't know what's gotten into them! I wish I knew how to help … but for the lift of me, I've no clue what's wrong with my girls! I'd give my left arm to figure out what's causing this sudden, _Exorcist-style,_ bipolar disorder in both of them!"

"Are you serious, Nick? You haven't figured it out?" The goateed man cracked up. "Man, I never thought the day would come when _I_ knew more about women than _you_ did! Aren't you supposed to be a _dad_ or something?"

"Trucy hardly came with a manual, you know!" Phoenix glared at him. "And, as my bad luck would have it, I can't get hold of _Pearls' guardian_ , who's off in the middle of the desert somewhere, to consult on this matter! Therefore, if you have any inkling about the cause of what's made my little girl turn into this mini… _She-Devil_ , please enlighten me!"

"A Potential Murder Suspect?" Larry derided; his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Is that what you mean?"

"What the heck? Larry, I'm sorry she kicked you, but I swear to you, she wasn't trying to actually _murder_ you with that move! Her and Pearls are very close you see, and she was merely being protective of her cousin…"

"No, no, Nick! That's not what I meant! Don't you _get_ it?" The artist curled his lip. "Sheesh, are you ever slow! I've had a million girlfriends go through these mood swings … on a _monthly_ basis if you _catch my drift?"_

The poker champ gawped at him in horror as the ugly truth dawned on him at last.

"You couldn't possibly mean…"

"Yup, yup. Potential. Murder. Suspect. Take the first letter of each of those words, Nick, and what do you get? P – M –"

"For the love of God, _don't say it!"_ Phoenix's eyes widened in terror as he clapped a hand over his friend's mouth, glancing nervously at the still closed bathroom door. "The last time I uttered those letters in relation to a female, I ended up _wearing the remains of her martini!"_

"That's because you used it _inappropriately_ when it wasn't even the case, and among mixed company – while in public!" Larry jerked his head away from the frantic hobo's palm and let out a loud guffaw. "But trust me on this one – it's entirely applicable this time!"

"You could be wrong! Maybe she's not being herself because she's _unwell!_ " Phoenix was frantically grasping at whatever straws were within reach. "Trucy told me she's been feeling sick symptoms! Headaches, backache, upset tummy…apparently, Pearls has been experiencing these as well…"

" _Both_ of them?!" Larry shuddered. "Jesus H tapdancing Christ on a taxicab! Talk about your double trouble!"

" _Why_ is this happening to me?!" The helpless card shark buried his face in his hands. "I just don't know what to do!"

"Well, you could…"

Just then, the bathroom door opened. Two sets of eyes, one blue, and one gray, peeked at the men timidly, both with identical expressions on their little faces. Pure panic.

"Daddy!"

"Mr. Nick!"

"Trucy, Pearls…what is it?" Phoenix's voice was filled with love and concern. "What's wrong? Talk to me!"

"I can't tell you," Trucy whispered, her gaze remaining downcast. Pearl's eyes remained on the floor, as well.

"Honey, I'm your _father_!" He insisted. "You should be able to tell me _anything!"_

Trucy finally raised her eyes, then silently stared up at him for what seemed like ages. Finally, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and blurted out the words before she lost her nerve.

"I think I just got my period!"

Pearl's lip quivered.

"I think _I_ just did, too!"

Phoenix exhaled a martyred sigh and raised his eyes towards the ceiling.

_Jeez, Louise! I can actually_ _**hear** _ _God laughing at me…_

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Maggey Gumshoe  
**_ _Wright Talent Agency_ _ **  
**_September 2, 2023, 12:30 PM

Maggey arrived exactly 20 minutes after the frantic Phoenix had called her, armed with what looked like an overflowing diaper carrier of feminine products. Her bag was knocked to the floor the second she entered the apartment, however, as the overwhelmed hobo immediately lurched himself at Gumshoe's wife, wrapping his arms around her in a nearly suffocating hug of gratitude.

"You're an angel, Maggey!" He cried, nearly lifting the petite brunette off her feet with the sheer force of his relief. "I don't know _what_ I would have done if you hadn't come!"

"Neither do I! Luckily, Dick was home to watch Gordy," Maggey replied dryly, walking over to the couch where the two girls were sitting exactly as they'd been the night before, with their legs propped up and a blanket covering their laps. "I heard these awful, loud yowls when you rang me! Are the poor dears in that much pain?"

"That was _me!"_ Larry grumbled, waving at Maggey from his seated position at the conference table in the corner. "Nick wouldn't let me peel out of here, so he forced me to stay here and endure his plight with him till you got here, and grabbed me really tightly by the back of my sweater, which nearly choked me in my throat – to keep me from going anywhere – those sounds were _me_ gasping for _air_!" He glared at Phoenix, who flashed him a contemptuous one right back. "Such violence in this Wright household! I can _see_ where your kid gets it from!"

"A _true_ pal wouldn't have tried to bolt when things got tough, and would have _wanted_ to stay and be supportive after all the times I've kept his sorry ass out of jail!" Phoenix retorted. "And for the millionth time, Larry, Trucy and Pearl learned those self-defense martial arts moves from Sasha, _not me_!"

"A _truer_ pal wouldn't have forced me to have to stay and deal with such a…embarrassing situation!"

" _Objection_!"

Both men started, unprepared for the loud shout the came from the normally mild-mannered woman Maggey looked startled at the volume of her tone and grinned sheepishly.

"Wow, I've always wanted to do that!" She giggled, before regaining her composure and subjecting both to a deathly glare while putting her hands on her hips. "But seriously, both of you, knock it off! I can't even choose sides here, because all this is complete and utter flummadiddle! Not to mention that you're _both_ acting like _immature, blathering idiots_!"

Phoenix and Larry both looked at the ground, shame-faced.

"Sorry," they mumbled in unison.

"Now, tell me." Maggey was in full take-charge mode. "Phoenix, did you find a hot water bottle and a heating pad for Pearl's back and Trucy's abdomen, like I told you to?"

"We only had one heating pad," Phoenix explained. "And I gave it to Pearls, and she said it's making her feel a bit better. But we didn't have a water bottle…"

"Then what on earth is your daughter holding on her stomach under that afghan?" Maggey demanded.

"Hi, Aunt Maggey!" Trucy called sunnily. "Daddy got creative and poured boiling water into a Ziploc bag, then put them into my magic panties as a makeshift water bottle to put on my tummy! It's helping a lot!"

Maggey looked back at the blushing Phoenix. "That's pretty creative, Papa." There was a note of admiration in her tone. "Good thinking."

"Thanks," he grinned sheepishly. "Also, we um … didn't have anything for … _you know_. So…" He leaned closer and whispered in Maggey's ear. "I told them to use a clean washcloth in the meantime to tide them over."

"Whatever you lack in common sense sometimes, Phoenix, you more than atone for in creativity." Maggey praised with a grin. "Good call! But I can take over from here."

She grabbed her bag and brought it over to the seating area, then proceeded to dump out the arsenal of sanitary napkins and other menstruation paraphernalia onto the coffee table.

"OK! Listen up, girls!" She announced brusquely. "Never fear, Aunt Maggey is here!"

"Well…since you're here now, I can leave right?" Larry asked hopefully, already inching his way to the door.

"Yeah, I can go and get Trucy that right flavor of ice cream now that we've got everything under the control of your capable hands, right, Maggey?" Phoenix was already shuffling after his friend. "So we are going to leave you ladies to um…figure out your…situation…"

"You're not going anywhere, Phoenix Wright!" Maggey snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative police officer that she'd once been. "This is your daughter, and you are her father, and you need to know what do when this situation occurs again in another 30 days or so! Because I may not always be around to make house calls!"

"Yeah, Nick!" Larry's tone was smug as he reached for the doorknob. "It's your job to stick around and be there for your kid!"

"You're not going anywhere either, Larry Butz!" Maggey commanded, glowering at him. "You come back here and sit your bony ass down, too! You aren't pretty enough to keep on being this damn obtuse, and someday, God willing, there _may_ be a woman you meet who can _tolerate_ your ridiculous self and decides, against her better judgement, to _procreate_ with you, and you may _also_ have a daughter someday!"

_God forbid_ …Phoenix thought, suppressing a shiver at the thought of Larry producing offspring.

Larry slunk over the sofa area, head hanging. He looked with interest at the dozen different packages and boxes scattered about.

" _Extra-long_?" He read. "With _wings_? What the hell, these things make you _fly?"_

Maggey gave a long-suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

"Larry Butz, _you're_ the reason we have warning labels on everything!" She barked. "I'm not even sure if I ought to dignify that banal query with a response!"

"I honestly have no clue about these things!" Larry's face was red. "Sorry if it was a stupid question…"

"There's no such thing as stupid _questions_ , just stupid _people_!" Maggey muttered and shot him a disgusted look. Then she turned to the girls and Phoenix. "Alright, you guys, listen up and pay attention. I can only _explain_ it all to you but I can't _understand_ it for you."

She shot Trucy's Papa a mischievous smile.

"That second part was mostly for Mr. Wright here!"

Phoenix cocked a wry grin, and Trucy and Pearl both giggled as they listened intently to Maggey's instructions. Then, after a few moments, both girls excused themselves, now armed with the appropriate products, as they went to tend to the matters at hand.

"Wow, that's a relief!" Phoenix exclaimed, dropping back onto the couch with a look of visible relief on his face. "I know you wanted me to stick around so I'd know what to pick up for Trucy going forward Maggey, but it looks like you brought me a _lifetime_ supply here! There's a drug store variety _and_ amount of feminine products here…will you even have anything left for yourself? Why so much stuff?"

"Since we have a few extra bucks now, Dick discovered the joys of Costco Wholesale." Maggey shrugged. "We buy everything in bulk. This stuff is yours to keep – I imagine this stash should last Trucy a good six months, easy."

"Oh gosh…Maggey…you're the best. I don't know how to thank you," Phoenix said quietly. "I am so lucky and grateful to have you and your husband as friends."

"That little girl is so incredibly lucky _and blessed_ to have you for a father, Phoenix Wright," Maggey said softly, her eyes glowing with affection and pride. "It takes a strong man to accept someone else's children, and step up to the plate another man left on the table."

Phoenix blushed at the praise, and Larry grinned as he clapped his old friend on the back.

"Yup, Nick here is slowly but surely nailing this whole fatherhood thing for sure, Mags," He agreed. "But there's just one thing I can't figure out about what happened here! I mean…both girls…at the same time…I mean, ugh, what the hell man, do they _give it to each other_ somehow or something?!"

Phoenix just looked at his friend with an expression of undisguised incredulity, but Maggey bestowed him the mother of all withering looks.

"I do declare, Larry Butz!" She proclaimed. "As of this day, it is now official! You are _…_ as _bright_ as a black hole, and twice as _dense!"_

* * *

_**Miles Edgeworth**_ _  
Presidential Suite, Lan Kwai Fong Palace Hotel  
Zheng Fa  
_September 3, 2023, 6:30 AM

Alone in his study area, Miles finished Phoenix's email, and upon reading the Maggey's last line of dialogue to Butz, (a thought which he _himself_ had not-so-secretly shared for _many, many_ years!) let out a loud shout of uncharacteristic laughter.

True to his word, since the fateful day Maya had been admitted to the hospital, his friend had kept his word and ensured Miles as _never_ in the dark about _anything_ whatsoever. In fact, Phoenix plied him with almost too _much_ information now, keeping him abreast of all his regular comings and goings, milestones, and developments in his and Trucy's lives. Miles would never complain though…as Phoenix's emails were always so well-worded and intricately detailed, he almost felt as if he were there in heart of the action alongside his friend's in LA, instead of feeling forlorn that it had been four years since he'd laid eyes on any of them.

He grinned to himself as he re-read the last few lines, still chuckling to himself about how panicked and hopeless Phoenix must have felt over dealing with Mother Nature's first impromptu visit to his daughter. It was pure comedic gold indeed, and he was happy to have been kept in the loop, even it was something as seemingly trite as Trucy's first bout of Pardon My Sobbing.

"Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska hollered from the bedroom; her voice harsh. "Whatever are you laughing at right now, you foolish fool? You're supposed to be packing and getting ready for our trip to Borginia!"

_Dammit, woman, we don't leave for another_ _**fortnight!** _

As much as he yearned to shout back, he wisely opted to keep the peace. After all, unlike his best friend, _he'd_ had many years of experience in dealing with these matters and ergo, knew the best way of handling them – by aimlessly nodding, smiling and most importantly … _keeping his mouth shut!_

Thence, instead of uttering an angry retort, he simply shut down his laptop and gave a resigned sigh before taking a deep breath and heading over to join his fiancée in their chambers.

Evidently, it was now _Miles'_ turn now to deal with his _own_ Potential Murder Suspect…


	43. Too Many Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those of you who haven't read The Ties That Bind, a love-sick Franziska was doodling potential future baby names, naming her and Miles' daughter Manfrieda after her father for a girl, or Gregory after his, if it were a boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Scars on your soul scars on your skin; some on the outside some are within; some have a story, some are unwritten; some you can see, but most are quite hidden."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma  
_**_Presidential Suite, Lan Kwai Fong Palace Hotel_  
_Zheng Fa_  
September 12, 2023, 6:31 AM

As Miles walked into the luxurious hotel room he shared with his fiancée, he found Franziska, clad in satin baby-doll pajamas, standing in front of the King-sized bed, with her arms across her chest, frowning, as if in stern contemplation, at the gigantic Louis Vuitton suitcase yawning open, which only half was packed. She looked up as her lover entered, his expression neutral, although his brow was arched.

"Was something the matter, _meine Dame_?" He drawled, still in good spirits from the humorous email from his best friend. "You sounded most displeased when you called out to me earlier, and I wondered what misdeed I had done to have been deserving of such ire in your tone."

She flushed slightly at the unspoken reprimand in the words.

Translation: _What the hell did I do to deserve that level of bitchiness?_

The answer was he'd done nothing…and yet _everything_. As childish and pathetic as it sounded, she'd been _jealous_ when she'd heard him laughing. What right had _he_ to feel such joy, whereas all _she_ had been feeling the past few years was complete and utter wretchedness and misery? She hadn't laughed in ages. Hadn't wanted to. Didn't think she would even know _how_ to if her life had depended on it. Not since…

_No_. She would _not_ let her mind go there. Even now, three years on, it was too painful. Too raw. As fresh as if it had been yesterday. This was her personal cross to bear. She needn't burden him with it.

"Nothing, _Liebling_ ," Franziska replied stiffly, dropping her head so her gaze was focused on the items in the suitcase and her silvery hair fell into her face, obscuring it from his view. "I shouldn't have used that tone or words with you. It was wrong of me. I guess I felt left out from whatever had you so entertained."

She looked up then, having had a moment to compose her features, and forced a slight smile.

"Care to share?"

Still chuckling somewhat, Miles gave her synopsis of Phoenix's latest plight, expecting to at least hear a titter from his partner when he got to the part about Butz getting a spinning kick to the midsection, but while a flicker of amusement flickered within her beautiful gray eyes, not even a trace of genuine mirth crossed her lovely face.

It made his insides ache.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever seen her truly smile.

It was a rare time when both of them were together, on the same schedule. But, as their assignment in Zheng Fa had at last wrapped up and they were headed to Europe soon, Agent Lang had allowed them a fortnight to tie up all loose ends in preparation for the next stage of the undercover operation.

They had half a month to go... and yet _already_ , his ever-zealous _Dame_ was packing their belongings! Franziska had always been organized and fastidious but had been more so than usual the last few years, always wanting to be prepared, and never caught unawares of _anything_.

Especially since…

He couldn't say the words out loud. Couldn't even let himself think them. Franziska had insisted they never speak of the matter again. It had been the only way for her to handle what had happened, and while he disagreed with her coping method, Miles loved her so much he had reluctantly acquiesced and swept it all under a rug like she'd insisted. He hadn't had a _choice_ – he'd been too wary of facing the wrath of her since _rediscovered_ whip if he hadn't!

Now, as he looked at her unintelligibly guarded expression, he felt the same frigid wall between them that rivaled the Berlin one. He longed to break down that barrier, and turn her back into the warm, laughing woman he'd fallen in love with. But _how_? That old Franziska appeared to have completely vanished for good. In her place was an even _colder_ , more remote version of the whip-wielding hoyden she'd been before they'd gotten together, and she seemed there to stay, permanently.

He couldn't take it anymore. If _Phoenix Wright_ could find it within himself to brave not one but _two_ pubescent, PMS-ing girls, Miles Edgeworth could discover the strength to handle things with his presumably pre-menstrual _future wife_!

Miles strode over to her side and put his hands on her bare shoulders, trying not to flinch at the realization that she'd visibly stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation of his touch.

"Franziska, we need to talk," he stated firmly, in his best no-nonsense, prosecutor voice.

She stubbornly jutted her chin, the way she always had when about to be scolded by her father in the past and affected her most supercilious expression.

"What do you wish to speak of that is so important, Miles?" She asked coolly, meeting his eyes levelly. "Can't you see I'm trying to pack for our next trip?"

"We don't leave for another _two weeks_ ," he reminded her mildly, not at all swayed by her attempted haughty countenance. He pushed her gently back onto the bed, taking the suitcase and placing it onto the floor so he could sit next to her. "So enough of that, please."

She turned her face to look at the ground then, but he lightly placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head in his direction, forcing her to look at him.

" _Mein Dame_ ," he pleaded. "Talk to me, _please_. I _know_ how hard this day must be for you. It is for me as well. I remembered the date. I'm aware of what today is."

"Please, don't do this to me, Miles! I can't … I just … can't…"

She choked back a sob and jerked her head away, and tried to rise from the bed, but he put a hand on her arm, pulling her back onto the bed, and into his arms. She collapsed against him then, crying so hard her entire body shook.

"When will it stop, Miles?" She wept, nearly wringing his heart out with her tears. His tough, tenacious girl so rarely cried. "When will the pain go away?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly, stroking her satiny hair, his own eyes welling up at the pain she was in, yet at the same time, relieved that this time, she was at least letting him comfort her, so they could at last mourn _together_. "But I _do_ understand, _meine Dame._ And I'm here for you."

"How can you _possibly_ understand, Miles?" She drew back and looked at him with sorrowful eyes, still watery with tears. "You can't possibly comprehend how I'm feeling _today_ , of all days!"

"Franziska." His agonized smoky orbs met hers, shining with love and sympathy. "You weren't the only one to have felt the loss on this very date three years ago. It was _my_ baby too."

There, he'd finally said it out loud. The words they'd left unsaid for so long, at last out in the open, the unignorably harsh ring echoing within the walls of the silent room.

"I loved her so much, Miles!" The German woman sobbed, falling back against him in another torrent of tears. "My precious Manfrieda … gone forever. She was with me for such a short time …I didn't even know until it was too late!"

It was such a tragedy. Franziska had been five months along when she'd miscarried, but as she was so petite in stature and frame, and because of her constant irregular monthly cycles and even more irregular work schedule, neither of them had deduced she'd been pregnant. She'd mistaken her occasional spotting and cramps for regular menstrual ones … until the fateful day she'd lost the fetus. After she'd been rushed, bleeding, and in excruciating pain, to the hospital, Miles would never forget the look of devastation in her eyes when they'd found out that their baby was gone. That it'd been a girl, whom they'd decided to name Manfrieda, as an homage to her late father.

"I know, Franziska." He murmured, tightening his arms around her back and drawing her against his chest. "I know."

"If only _I'd_ known!" She wailed. "I know she w-wasn't planned, Miles. But I wanted her _so much!_ What were the odds that the _sole_ time I missed my pill would have been the _one_ time we made love that spring?"

Miles felt a twinge of guilt creeping over him. He remembered how he'd been grumbling to himself how moody, distant and withdrawn Franziska was being at the time, and begrudging her not fulfilling his primal urges, which he had been attempting to do _himself_ while dredging up the memories of his former lover! Although he'd never actually been unfaithful, he still felt as if he'd wronged her somehow. If only he'd known she'd been carrying their child at the time! He wasn't sure if or how it would have made a difference, but he still felt terrible about the whole thing.

The worst part was that since then, he hadn't even been able to comfort or console her - Franziska barely let him _touch_ her, seeming to swap her old birth control method of the pill for flat out _abstinence_! He could practically count on the fingers of his hands how many times they'd made love in the past three years, and mostly it'd been on the traditional festive occasions, like his birthday or Valentine's Day! Each time, he'd sensed her reluctance and trepidation, and had essentially felt like he'd merely spent himself on her, instead of it being a mutually enjoyable experience. They'd barely hugged or kissed, either – it was as though his touch made her skittish – as if she was afraid he would ravage her against her will whenever he tried to be affectionate or put a hand on her, in any sort of way.

With their opposite work schedules, those awkward moments of her evasion to intimacy hadn't been too glaring, but when they were alone together, as they were now, it really and truly was. He was surprised she'd even let him _hold_ her this time, but he was grateful to have at last been able to offer her comfort from the pent-up grief she'd been harboring all this time.

"It doesn't matter that Manfrieda wasn't planned, _meine Dame_." He brushed her hair off her face and regarded her with sincere eyes. "But believe you me, she would have been not only loved but cherished and _welcomed_."

"Do you really mean that, _Liebling_?" Franziska looked at him hopefully, still sobbing slightly. "I didn't think it was possible to _want_ something so badly that I didn't know I even _had_! But the hardest part of this all was…you know I've wanted a baby for the longest time now. I just didn't know if _you_ did just yet…or if you had only gone along with it initially just to appease me. So I wasn't quite sure how you felt about the loss. A part of me wondered if you even may have felt…" She dropped her eyes then and could barely choke the last word out. " _R-relieved_."

"Franziska!" Miles' eyes were wide with shocked dismay. "How could you – even… _no_! Of _course_ , I wasn't _relieved_! I was just as distraught as you were. Because I love you, and more than _anything_ in the world, I want a life and _family_ with you, even at this point, with our hectic schedules and careers."

"I think I needed to hear that." Franziska wiped her wet cheeks and smiled at him sadly. "I know I've pushed you away all this time Miles, and I'm sorry. But I was so terrified of getting pregnant …and I just couldn't endure ever having to go through such a heart-breaking experience again. Or even worse…thinking I'd brought a child into this world that was only reluctantly accepted by his father."

Miles took her face in his hands and as he peered searchingly into her eyes, a beautiful moment of shared tranquility and mutual understanding was felt between the lovers, for the first time in forever.

_As you walk in love, understanding your entire being becomes perfected._

"Franziska Von Karma, please believe me when I tell you, with all my heart, that I would welcome and thank God for _any_ child you give me."

"Oh, _Liebling_." Her lips trembled as she gazed back at him, the look of relief and love on her face as clear as day. " _Danke_. _Ich liebe dich_."

"I love you too _, meine Dame_." He looked at her meaningfully. "But what I'd also love the opportunity to _demonstrate_ to you just how much I love you." He leaned towards her, and a slight pinkness tinged her cheeks as the meaning of his words sank in.

"Miles…I…I'm not on the pill anymore," she stammered, blushing gorgeously. "And it's been so long since we made love that the box of condoms we had from last time has _expired!_ It could be risky if we make love right now."

"Then let it be," he growled. "You're going to be my _wife_. And if we are blessed again with a life that we created this time, we'll know it was _expected_ _and wanted_. I've been aching for you for so long...and I know by that look in your eyes that I'm not the only one who's been craving this…"

The world tumbled in slow motion, then stopped for a brief moment. Her blood rushed in her veins, wetness seeped between her thighs, her pulse pounded with mad glee, and then he kissed her and it was all over.

She was lost.

A low moan ripped from her throat at contact and his tongue plunged deep. Completely raw, with little finesse and all dark hunger, he invaded her mouth.

The past and present blurred together, but this time, there was no retreat. Meeting him halfway, their tongues tangled and fought in a sensual dual she was happy to lose. He claimed and plundered, pressing her back onto the bed until she was stretched out and he loomed over her. His other hand cupped her breast, flicking the tight bud. She gripped his shoulders and arched against him, asking for more, and without breaking the kiss, his hand slipped underneath the silk chemise and lacy bra and hit bare skin.

Oh, _God_. His fingers tweaking fingers felt _so good_ , causing a lightning bolt to hit straight to her core, which was throbbing and desperate for pressure. Never had her body lit up so fast, with just a kiss and simple touch. Usually, it took a while for foreplay to get her going, but _good Lord_ , she could have come right now, if she could just lift her hips a bit and rub—

"I don't think so, my little hellcat." He murmured the words against her lips, pausing to bite, then suck. "I waited for _three years_ to have you properly. I'm not letting you get off on a quick rub on the bed."

She should be completely embarrassed, but Franziska was beyond caring about how she got there. Right now, the need in her body hurt too much. Her hunger reached beyond any type of rationality. She tried to lift her ass higher.

"You win. I want you. _Fuck a baby into me_ , Miles Edgeworth!"

He chuckled low and dirty.

"Oh, _mein Dame_ , you're still gonna pay."

Shivers raced down her spine. He teased her breast, flicking the peak back and forth with his tongue until it was so taut and swollen she knew just one more swipe could take care of the agony.

"Pay for what? I have not done anything."

He broke the kiss and stared deeply in her eyes.

"You did _everything_. You just don't know it yet."

The words made no sense, but he gave her no time to ponder. He lifted her and pressed her down on the bed, so her legs dangled over the side, her back supported by the mattress. Franziska waited for the frantic pull of clothes, the feel of skin on skin, the mad rush towards a release that usually accompanied a passionate encounter. Instead, he towered over her at the edge. With his dark, simmering gaze trained on hers, Miles smiled, telling her immediately he was in no rush.

God have mercy, he was going to _kill_ her!

He toed off his slippers and pulled off his pajama top with one easy motion. His skin gleamed in the morning sunrise outside the window, with chiseled, well-defined pecs and biceps. A line of light hair traveled down washboard abs and disappeared into his pajama bottoms. Her fingers fisted to rip them off, and feast. Franziska was just about to jump him when he moved out of reach.

"Stay there. Don't move."

She didn't think she was capable of movement then. Because her mind had become putty, just like her body.

Without a word, he reached for one barefoot, rubbing it in a slow massage. As he pressed into her instep, she swallowed a moan and kicked her leg a bit so he'd get on with the more important parts. Her body throbbed for relief, but he took his time with each foot, then gently let them sway back, dangling in off the bed.

"Miles?"

"Yes, Franziska?"

"Umm, we started at a good pace there but things have slowed."

A glint of white teeth flashed. "Ever hear the motto 'it's all in the journey and not the destination'?"

"Yeah. I always thought that was _so ein Schwachsinn_!" She scooted an inch down and wiggled her hips. "Getting to the goal is a good thing."

The thought of a mind-blowing orgasm had all her circuits firing. She enjoyed sex but found her mind was way too involved, so she did best with a quick, intense session that got her to climax. Franziska had accepted her limitations and issues a long time ago, and though many times she wished to be less complicated, she also realized it was easier to accept and move on than try and fight her natural inclinations.

"What if I told you I intend to change your mind?"

He played with her ankle, slipping his fingers under up her leg and rubbing her calf. _Gott_ , the man could've been a massage therapist and made _millions!_ Her muscles flexed while he kneaded, then caressed the back of her knee. Bolts of pleasure streaked through her.

"What if I told you I don't intend to let you get to goal until you're _begging_ me?"

_Damn, he's cocky! **Beg** him? As if! Good try!_

But she was so hot right now, as soon as he got close for any friction she'd take care of herself. Still, she smiled.

"I would say good luck with that, _Liebling_."

His grin was very smug and inherently male. A shiver of warning trickled down her spine. She'd never begged for anything in her life, especially for a man to satisfy her. She didn't intend to start now.

Miles leaned over and skated both hands higher, pausing right underneath her thighs. He squeezed hard, and her hips lifted unconsciously. "I'm going to love _every_ moment of this."

With one deft movement, he gripped the material of her baby doll bottoms and pulled them off her. The white lace of her panties was already past damp, but when she tried to close her legs an inch, he lifted her legs high and placed them on the edge of the bed. Far apart.

Franziska sucked in a breath, feeling exposed everywhere. His hot gaze took in every inch of her skin, lingering on her most private parts until a secret thrill began to build. Something dark and dirty stirred to life. Even after all this time, she loved it when he took the time to study her body with such razor intent as if dying to ravish, taste, mate. She trembled, not knowing what to do with the crazy feelings beginning to surge.

"So pretty," he murmured, tracing one index finger over the elastic, skimming over the front as she struggled to remain still. "So _wet_. But not enough. Not yet."

His talk shocked her – he didn't normally speak in such a fashion. But she _liked_ it.

Miles leaned over, and she expelled a sigh, waiting for the final barrier to be off and feel him inside her.

Instead, he lowered his mouth and pressed kisses over her thighs with a leisurely intent that told her he was in no rush. His tongue lashed out at her, tasting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, knee, calves, and slowly back up. Her mind spun. She tried to grab his head and urge him upward, but he ignored her. A nibble here, a lick there; his hands consistently roved, pushing up her and dipping into her belly button, squeezing her hips, playing with the damn elastic of her panties until a whimper broke from her lips.

Finally, he inched his way back up. The heat of his skin scorched into hers, and at the same easy pace, he pushed up her pajama top, propped her up, and guided it over her head.

"You taste like I remember. Exotic. Sweet."

Her voice sounded like sandpaper. "Orange blossom body lotion."

"And jasmine."

"Yes, that is within there, as well. Miles! What are you _doing?"_ Her eyes begged him to give her release and stop the torture, but the wicked grin that tugged at his lips told her he had other plans.

" _Everything_. By the time I taste you, you'll beg me to let you come against my tongue. And I'll demand it, Franziska. Every last bit of it is _mine_."

So naughty. Until Miles, words like this had never been spoken to her, but she grew wetter, and her skin itched with such sensitivity she rolled back and forth to soothe. He laughed, cupping her breasts. Her nipples were already hard and throbbing, desperate to be freed from their prison, but he just dipped his head and began licking her through her lacy bra, scraping his teeth over the sensitive nub again and again until a low scream built at the back of her throat. His erection through his pajamas seemed massive, pressed against her swollen nub, and she half lifted to press against him. His teeth nipped sharply against her engorged peak and she cried out. The ache lashed and turned to excruciating pleasure, forcing her head to thrash back and forth. Too much. It was all too much.

"I cannot bear this," she moaned. "It's taking too long."

Miles unsnapped her bra and cupped her bare breasts, lifting them to his mouth. His lips closed around her nipple and he sucked. She held onto him in a fierce grip, arched upward, searing alive to satisfy the ache between her legs and the need for this man to take all of her, any way he wanted, over and over and over.

"Open your mouth for me, Franziska." His eyes seethed with demand and lust. " _Now_."

His tongue surged between her lips and she almost wept with the pleasure. He plundered every last secret, then softened the pressure so he could play. The dual effects of hard and soft, rough and gentle, slow and fast, broke down her mental barriers and left her with nothing.

Just freedom.

By the time he broke the kiss and moved his way back down her body, Franziska was ready to surrender.

"Oh, _bitte_ ," she gasped. " _Please_."

"Better. You're almost there." He tugged off her panties and laid her bare for his gaze. "Do you know how long I fantasized about tasting you?"

He dragged a finger from her neck, down her chest, down to her navel and lower, his skilled digits teasing her mercilessly, and Franziska writhed with a dark need to let him do anything.

"Is _this_ what you want?"

"Yes!"

"Ask me, Franziska. Beg me."

She bucked her hips against his questing fingers.

"P – please kiss me… there."

_"Where?"_

Shame burned within but she was past caring.

"Please kiss me _there_."

"Beautiful. You're so beautiful, you were made for this. For _me_."

He bowed his head and replaced his hands with his mouth. The first intimate swipe of his tongue caused a long hiss to escape her lips. He avoided her sweet spot, once again taking his time, murmuring delicious, sinful words against her womanhood, continuing his teasing ministrations with his lips and tongue until he finally zeroed in on the most sensitive part of her core. He laved at the sensitive center of her desire mercilessly, until Franziska felt the last of her sanity shred.

" _Liebling_ , please! I need—I am _begging!"_

Without hesitation, he increased the pressure and slid two fingers into her wet warmth.

She came apart.

The climax tore through her, stole her breath, and ripped her to pieces. She screamed and bucked beneath him, but he never stopped, dragging the pleasure on and on until she was reduced to a shivering, trembling mass of exposed nerves.

Franziska collapsed, boneless. And then he was dragging her down the length of the bed, her legs spread wide, feet propped high on his shoulders, completely open to anything he wanted to do.

His hardness paused at her entrance. Pushed in an inch. Another. Slowly, he filled her completely, taking everything she had without apology. She stretched to accommodate him, relishing the tightness and when he was buried deep within her, he interweaved his fingers with hers.

"I've missed this so much, _meine Dame_." His voice broke. "I've wanted you, ached for you, _needed_ you. I've always needed you."

She had no time to process the words or their meaning. He withdrew all the way, then slammed himself fully back, sheathing his throbbing erection to the hilt. Again. Again. Again.

The ride was wild, long, choppy, thrilling. The second climax shimmered just out of reach, the feeling of him taking over her body, his hips working in a primitive dance, sweat drenching their skin, over and over until –

_"Mein Gott!_ Oh, Miles, Miles, _Miles…"_

She broke apart again, hazily noting him following her over the edge. She gripped his hands as her only anchor, his weight pressing her against the bed until they collapsed, and closed her eyes. Her mind was completely and blissfully empty.

But for the first time in three years, Franziska Von Karma's mouth was open into a genuine, beatific smile.


	44. I’ll Be Right Here Waiting for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: At long last, the mystery man of Lana's that she was cheating on with Miles is revealed! For those of you who read Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman...recall WHY Ema was there at the bar in the first place? 😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Isn’t it wrong for me to try anything new when I am still so in love with you? Funny how certain chapters have ended for you while you were every chapter of my book. The day your memories drain from my mind, every last one of them, maybe then I’ll learn to move on. Till then, I am standing right where you left me.”

**_Lana Skye and Prison Inmate_**  
Detention Centre, Los Angeles  
April 16, 2019 

She walked into the trailer wearing a short black dress and thigh-high boots. The outfit, along with her long silky hair, looked younger than her actual years, appearing to be in her late twenties. Her tight, sexually provocative clothing had been chosen to aid the illusion of youth. 

But she wasn’t young anymore. She was 32. Older. Wiser. More experienced. And as this would be her last time seeing him for a long time, she was going to draw upon all the experience to ensure it would be one neither of them would ever forget. 

Pulling the strings to allow this special visit had been a tough business. Lana had known it would be. After all, they weren’t married – therefore, she and the inmate didn’t technically fall under the typically allowed realm for a conjugal visit. 

However, there were some perks to having been a detective, and then chief prosecutor, none the least which included a mere two-year sentence for tampering with a murder scene, even if at the time her helpless intentions had been thought they were for a greater good. She'd done her hard time, and Lana Skye was now a free woman - even though she’d pretty much agreed to sell her soul to the devil in order to beget her freedom.

Her lover hadn’t been as lucky. Despite being a former lawman, there would be no early parole for a man who had taken a cop’s ID, assaulted a fellow officer, and stolen evidence. 

She sat down on the bed in the trailer and closed her eyes, waiting.

She smelled him before seeing him.

The scent came from her right. She sniffed the air, breathing in the familiar aroma of tobacco and earthy patchouli. Looking up, she saw a tall man with midnight coffee brown eyes smiling down at her. 

“I just wanted to stand here and admire you for a spell longer. Just take in the sexy as sin sight of you,” he drawled, his lips curling up into a slow smile. “I’m enjoying it tremendously.” 

She rose and silently rubbed her body up against his. Her hip dug into his groin and she could feel the slight telltale swelling there already. She knew from experience how many promises that bulge held. She sniffed again. Sweet smelling. Smiling easily. No display of sadness, that this would be their last time seeing one another for ages. A mellow and amused expression, eyes dancing with unrepressed desire. Her inner goddess stretched inside her, urging her to take him, right then and now, and the hell with foreplay. 

“Is that right?” She raised one brow and wriggled against him again. The size of the rod against her hip increased. Oh, yeah. This was going to be fun, she thought, as she realized, from memory, that his more than adequate proportions weren’t fully erect yet. 

He nodded; his dark eyes gleaming as they raked over her from the top of her caramel head to the tips of her designer boots. “Of course, we’d both enjoy it a lot more naked in that bed,” he told her candidly. 

“You don’t believe in wasting time, I see.” She turned, deliberately rubbing against him, breast to chest. In her boots, she almost matched his height. 

“And _you_ do?” He quirked a dark brown brow at her. You can’t tell me that after all this time apart, you’re not dying to be clawing to get at my man-meat, Bambina.” 

Lana smiled coyly. There had been a time when she'd been sick of being called a baby girl in Italian by a wannabe Texan who was really from California, but right now, after so long, the endearing term was like music to her ears. His body might have been apart from hers for some time, but he obviously still knew the details of how to rile her up intimately, regardless. Good. One less thing she’d have to retrain him on.

“You’re a bold young thing, aren’t you, cowboy?” 

He let out a throaty chuckle.

“I’m not young anymore, Bambina. Gonna be two score age in five years yonder.” 

He shifted his hips against her and the hard ridge of his erection bumped against her belly. Instinctively, she ground against it. 

“Like a fine wine, you’ve only improved with age, though am sure,” she purred, reaching down and boldly stroking the front of his prison uniform pants. “But if you want, we can play student and teacher and you can pretend to be the bad little boy who didn’t do his homework…” 

His engaging smile widened.

“I’ll be teacher’s pet, I promise,” he joked. 

Her eyes narrowed.

“Not a bad game. Have you been bad today? Do you need a spanking?” 

As the words fell from her lips, she could have kicked herself. This time was supposed to be about vanilla sex, not kinks or fetishes.

However, the handsome cowboy merely shrugged.

“I’d rather just nail you six ways to Sunday. All that other crap isn’t necessary for me. As you can tell, I’m pretty much good to go.” 

His eyes gleamed. One hand cupped the side of her face, the long elegant fingers sliding into her long hair. Angling his head toward hers, he dropped a quick kiss on her lips. An electric tingle went through Lana’s body as she felt the heat rushing to the surface of her skin. 

When he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue, she sighed into his mouth. His free hand slid over her hip and curved over her taut buttock. She rubbed herself against him again as his intoxicating scent grew stronger. Lifting her arms, she draped them over his broad shoulders, feeling the hard muscle and bone beneath his inmate shirt. He sucked on her tongue and heat pooled deliciously between her thighs. God, he was hot! She slid her hand up to his orange-clad thigh and squeezed him intimately. He responded instantly to her touch. 

He sucked in a breath, his hand coming up to cup her breast.

“I gather you’re not much for chitchat right now,” he said, his thumb teasing her hardened peak through the soft material of her dress. 

“Nope,” she replied. Naturally reticent, whenever she was horny, as she was now, she was even less inclined to words. The only action of a sexual nature would calm the beast inside her. “Just looking for some amazing sex to send you off with, cowboy. Nothing more. Nothing less.” 

“Well, just in case you feel the urge to shout my name later, I like it when you call me _Jake_ ,” he said and grabbed her by the back of the head.

Shock rippled through Lana as he held her firmly. He kissed her deeply, ravaging her mouth with the kind of kiss she’d expect and gotten accustomed to from an Alpha like Miles, not a Beta like Jake Marshall. If his kiss hadn’t completely overwhelmed her and made thinking next to impossible, she would have wondered if she had pegged him wrong all this time. Where his kiss had been leisurely before, now it burned hot and urgent, demanding a response from her rather than accepting what she doled out to him. 

Abruptly, he let her go. Her chest heaved as she sucked in great gulps of air. Jake’s eyes glinted enigmatically at her in the dim light trailer.

“Does it still surprise you I’m not the kind of mild-mannered man I that used to be now, Lana?” He growled. “Or does the prison jumpsuit make you think I could no longer be that anyway? You gotta be more careful about judging a book by its cover,”

She blinked. He looked at her with a feral light in his eyes. Captain Kirk's Nipples! She’d never misjudged an Alpha before. Of course, her familiarity with former policemen turned inmates were few and far between…She was starting to feel skittish. Two years in the clink … how much of her beloved Jake Marshall had been changed since? 

The former detective took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were the color of espresso, rich with reddish-brown flecks. She could feel the steely strength in his long elegant fingers. 

“You’re lucky after all this hard time, I’m still a nice guy,” he whispered, shocking her with his unexpected choice of words. “And that all I want is to fuck you until your knees blow out and that sweet box of yours turns into rubber.”

Her eyes widened a little. He smiled then, and the sunny, amusing persona he’d always displayed that she’d grown to love, the one that'd always whispered words of love and adoration to her all these years, snapped back into place.

“You are going to let me give it to you until you can’t see straight, aren’t you?” he asked as his fingers turned from steel to silk, sliding warmly across her skin. 

Lana nodded. Several strands of her hair caught in the dark stubble that covered his jaw. His warm, masculine scent grew stronger and she realized his arousal intensified it. The more aroused he became, the stronger the scent grew. The sweet smell flooded her entire being, making her mouth water. She wondered what he tasted like now… 

In a split second, the internal tigress within her roared to life. She pushed Jake against the back wall of the trailer and kissed him hard, her lips and tongue sucking urgently at his. The heat and depth of the kiss pushed her arousal up several notches. It had been a long time since a man had affected her so strongly, and never had one’s scent overpowered her as Jake’s did. Potent and distinctive, she would have been able to find him in a crowd of thousands. It would definitely be something to memorize him by while she tried to savor the memories of this day. 

Jake’s hands slid up under the hem of her mini dress, his fingers digging into her buttocks. She rubbed herself against him and he rewarded her with another growl. Pure sex emanated from the sound, with none of the male fierceness that had colored it previously. The sound skittered along her nerve endings, rousing her tremendous sexual appetite. 

Heat and wetness rushed to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. The former detective’s nostrils flared and she knew he had caught the scent of her sex. Beneath her hand, his sex had swollen to a satisfying proportion. The long thickness through his pants promised to fill her as no one had before. Size had never mattered to her, but then, she’d never had someone as big as Jake, ever. 

When he turned toward her, she reached back and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor.

Standing in front of Jake in her black silk thong and leather boots, a sense of empowerment filled her. Jake looked at her hand and arched one dark brow in amusement, almost as if he could read her thoughts. He casually pulled off his inmate shirt and tossed it on the floor. 

Lana’s eyes raked over the muscles of his arms and chest. He had a fine-boned aristocratic caste to his build, with pale gold skin, a shade or two more light than her own tan. The muscles of his arms, pecs, and shoulders were sculpted and well defined, but not bulky. His rock-hard abs had classic six-pack ripples. A fine dust of dark hair encircled each of his pale brown nipples… pale brown pierced nipples. 

Her lips quirked in a smile. He wasn’t actually the hardened inmate he appeared to be, she thought as he bent and removed his shoes and socks. When he straightened, she briefly eyed his long narrow feet. Elegant like his hands. Her gaze shifted to those hands. They pulled down his pants pushing the material down his muscular thighs. He kicked the pants away and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. With a practiced flick, the garment in question hit the floor and he kicked them in the same direction as the jeans. 

“Will I do?” he asked, as her greedy eyes wandered his hard body. Dark hair arrowed from his navel to his groin. She saw that he’d somehow kept himself well-trimmed, and thought that it extended to his balls too. Even from a distance, they seemed smooth. His nether region was larger than the bulge in his pants had indicated, she noted, taking in his girth and length. It’d been so long she’d nearly forgotten how well hung he was. Her mouth watered at the thought of licking him. 

“I believe you will.” Concupiscence turned her voice husky. “Tell me, do you still want to fuck me like an animal?”

Jake smiled enigmatically. “For now, yes, although, you have yet to show it to me…” 

As his voice trailed away, Lana bent over and unzipped her boots. She could feel the cowboy’s scorching stare on her breasts as if he’d reached out and touched her. The weight of his gaze made her rush and she carelessly kicked the expensive designer footwear off, something she never did. She lifted her head, teal orbs holding his as she shimmied out of the black silk thong. 

Her insides churned, knowing that the tension they shared would soon be released. Lana walked over to the bed and ripped the covers back. Lying on the sheets, she spread her legs so that Jake could see every inch of her naked glory splayed out for him in readiness. She didn’t need a mirror to know that the flesh of her womanhood glistened in the low light. She could feel her swollen, sensitive lips throbbing. She stroked her hand over herself and her nipples tightened painfully.

 _If you want it, come and get it, big boy_. _Standing there staring at it doesn’t do either of us any good._

Jake’s eyes jerked to hers and for a split second, she had the weird sense that he had heard her thoughts. But then he flashed a seductive smile that widened as he started toward her. In a flood of lust that drowned her momentary fear, she gazed mesmerized at the thick erection that bobbed with each of his steps. 

“That honey pot is every bit pink and pretty as I remembered it to be,” he noted his tone filled with appreciative satisfaction. “Dreaming of being inside of it, inside of _you_ , again – it’s the only thing that’s kept me going all this time.”

When he reached the side of the bed, his long fingers trailed over her knee and up the inside of her thigh. Her heart thundered in her chest, her breathing ragged and harsh.

Jake leaned over her, his hands denting the mattress on either side of her hips as he sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed along her thighs. They parted before him.

His fingers lightly stroked the sensitive nub at the core of her, then teased her slick flesh. So far, the passion she felt just from what that initial intimate touch far surpassed anything she’d ever felt before. She knew her juices flowed for him, her body telling him what her voice could not.

“Do you want me to stop?” he rumbled against her neck.

“No!”

“Spread your legs wider.”

Her breath came in hitching gasps as she mindlessly obeyed.

He cupped his hand over her mound, slipping one finger into her wet passage as his palm kept steady pressure against her clit. It felt like forever that he teased her. Her mind felt as though it were drugged; maybe in the morning she’d be able to think straight again.

Heat coalesced under his hand. She couldn’t think straight between the thick, deep sound of his voice, his scent, and the feel of his finger fucking her.

“You’re so tight. I can’t wait to slide my cock inside of you. The first time, I’ll fuck you hard and fast. It will not be loving or tender. I’ll mark you as mine and claim you.” He plunged his finger a little deeper. “The second time I fuck you, I’ll fuck you long and slow until I have felt your body milk my cock many times with your orgasms.”

She panted and bucked her hips against his hand, shamelessly riding it while as spasms began to build within her body from his expert ministrations.

“The third time,” he continued. “I’ll fuck you until you scream my name and beg me to let you come, because by then you will be totally mine again.”

Her belly clenched, tight with need. His finger plunged deeper, then pressed up, finding that magical spot.

“Come for me,” he ordered.

She moaned as her body obeyed even while her mind struggled to comprehend the command. He kissed her, crushing her lips with his. His finger continued whatever deviltry motions he was using conjure the wanton response from her, prolonging her reaction until she lay trembling beside him.

He withdrew his hand and, his gaze firmly on hers, sucked her juices off his fingers. She watched him as she gasped for breath.

“How much more foreplay do you want, Bambina? Because as far as I’m concerned, kissing those full succulent lips while you grated against me for a spell was all that I needed, personally.” 

Lana licked her lips, watching as the one-time patrolman’s chocolate eyes darkened even more.

“I don’t need any more teasing.” Her voice sounded barely louder than a whisper even though her pulse pounded in her ear. “Just take me hard and fast before I explode again from just looking at you.” 

She didn’t know what to expect, but what happened next still surprised her. With a dexterous movement that made it all seem like a single smooth move, Jake reached out, flipped her onto her belly, pulled her hips back against his, and thrust his entire, rigid length into her throbbing wetness. She let out a startled half yelp, half moan. He filled her so tightly it bordered on pain. Taking someone as big as him without any warning had driven every ounce of air from her lungs. 

Jake’s fingers roughly pinched and twisted her hard nipples. Pleasure ripped through her in a great wave. She had no idea how he so vividly recalled what she liked. He’d certainly never been such a rough sex sorta guy before now. Raw, maybe, but never rough – not that she was complaining!

He jerked her up off her hands, his chest cradling and supporting her torso. His hips stilled as his hands swept over her body, finding all the places she most liked to be touched. When she moaned uncontrollably, he licked her neck and she shivered. The most incredible sensations buffeted her body when his tongue stroked over her skin. She almost asked him to bite her, but he bent her over again. Her palms hit the mattress as his hips slammed into her backside. He pulled back and thrust into her forcefully. 

Lana’s inner muscles stretched to accommodate him while clinging to his thickness. He took her harder than she’d ever been taken before. The head of his rod battered her G-spot with every thrust. Shivers of pleasure racked her body. Her climax crested and she cried out, tossing her head back.

Jake chuckled but his tempo didn’t lessen. He gave her exactly what she’d asked for. She shuddered and gasped for air, her heart racing thunderously. Unbelievably, as one long finger flicked over the sweet spot between her thighs, she found herself going over the edge yet again. 

She knew he could feel her spasms, feel her inner core muscles clamping down on his thick shaft. His strokes became shorter. The slap of his hips against her ass grew more frantic. His teeth nipped the back of her neck as his hands tightened on her thighs. 

“That’s it, Bambina. Come for me one more time,” he growled. “You can do it.”

His tongue licked at her neck in time to the glide of his fingers against her clit. He was buried to the hilt, embedded so fully that he could barely press inside her, even though her body was primed and more than ready for passionate invasion than it had ever been. Heat flooded her veins. She clenched herself around his manhood as her whole body vibrated in a third orgasm. 

With a muffled cry, Jake exploded at last. His cock jerked inside her and she could feel the hot gush of his heady release. Shaking uncontrollably, her arms gave out and her face landed on the sheet, her backside still the air as he throbbed inside her, his seed of desire still erupting from him. Finally, he withdrew, and she moaned at the feel of his flesh separating from hers, leaving her sensitive, open, and exposed.

Jake flopped onto his back beside her and her knees gave out, her lower body sprawling bonelessly on the bed. They looked at each other, both gasping for air. Then he reached out and brushed a lock of hair off her face. 

“I’ll give you about ten minutes to recover. Then I’m pounding that pussy again after I lick it into submission.” 

Lana’s eyes popped open in astonishment. She didn’t know what astonished her more, the fact that he would be ready again so soon or the way he took control. Her lips curved in a sultry grin. 

“I worked something out with the boys,” she told him, still trying to catch her breath. “They’ve given us a few good hours to do nothing but just screw each other’s brains out.”

“Well, I’m good at it and I like to do it for hours. After all, this needs to tide me over for a long time, ain’t that right?” His dark eyes twinkled at her. “Unless you’re sending me away now that you’ve seen your own fireworks.” 

Although he hadn’t framed his words as a question, she shook her head anyway.

“I don’t think I can send you away,” she replied, her smile growing as approval flashed across his face. “At least, not until I’m worn out and can’t walk.”

“Good.” He leaned over and kissed her hard. “Because if you can’t walk away, then maybe you won’t run away screaming when I say this to you.”

_You have the opportunity to free-fall at this moment between birth and death, right through the hole of your fear, into the non-threatening openness which is the source of your gifts. The superior man lives as this spontaneous sacrifice of love. No one is asking you to be in love with anyone. That is your choice._

The sudden tenderness in his cadence made her heart flutter with anticipation.

“I love you, Lana Skye. Always have. Always will.” He took her face in his hands and stared earnestly into her eyes. “Wait for me, Bambina. Marry me.”

Her mind reeled with shock. Despite everything that had happened, he still loved her? He actually wanted to _marry_ her? 

Up until she’d been incarcerated, the whole world, from Miles to her baby sister, had accused her of being an unfeeling bitch, it stung. Those words from people she had cared for struck deeply into emotions she struggled daily to control. To survive the pain, she’d retreated into the cold bitch persona she’d been accused of. 

Now, that same self-preservation kept the lid on her emotions, when she looked at the sexy ruffian who’d once captured her heart. Deep in her soul, she knew she loved him, and that ultimately, she wanted to be with him. 

_Maybe we are too different but the sun and the moon can still love each other why can’t we?_ _Since love is the bridge between hearts, going beyond the mind is the key to authentic relationships._

Nevertheless, the icy bitch who’d taken control of her all those years ago still refused to let go. The bitch coolly surveyed Jake, wondering how she was expected to accept a marriage proposal from cowboy-obsessed former patrol officer turned convict who was sure to remain in the slammer for at least another seven years. She snarkily thought that all her life, she’d dreamed of being proposed to, never dreaming it would be in a conjugal trailer, without even a ring or sign of parole within sight. 

Inside her, behind the icy bitch, the real Lana Skye gazed at Jake Marshall’s beautiful face and wished with all her heart that her life was different.


	45. Skeletons In The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The characters of Tyrell Badd, Kay Faraday, and Shih-Long Lang are from the Miles Edgeworth AA games. I hope I've made it so you can still follow the next arc of the story even if you haven't played those games, as I try my best to recap any references to them as best I can. If you have any questions, of course, please feel free to message me. The next few chapters may contain some slight spoilers for the Edgeworth games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If I trust you, I will follow your lead and if you think I am right, just follow me."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karm_** **a**  
 _Interpol Offices, Borginia  
_ August 7, 2024, 3:00 PM

_"Dummkopf!"_ The whip slashed through the air with a loud hiss, snapping loudly against the man's unsuspecting cheek. "Just _who_ do you think you are? How _dare_ you tell me what I can and cannot do, you foolish fool!"

Shi-Long Lang clapped a hand against his weathered cheek to take away the sting and shot a scathing look at Miles, who merely raised an eyebrow at his superior's brown-eyed glare.

"Can't _you_ control your fiancée, Edgeworth?"

_And risk being at the receiving end of her back-in-action, ever-ready whip?_ Miles thought to himself, crossing his arms and shaking his head. _No thank you!_

The head Interpol agent heightened his glare at him, so Miles acquiesced to the silent order, while barely stifling a sigh as he looked imploringly at the fuming Franziska.

"For starters, _meine Dame,_ the alleged foolish fool in question is the head agent in charge of this smuggling operation and in essence, _our boss,"_ he reminded her calmly. "And as you are fully aware, negating his authority counts as insubordination."

_As does impromptu whipping of him whenever he says something that you don't like or disagree with!_

"Miles Edgeworth, just _whose_ side are you on, you traitorous fool?!" Franziska snapped, brandishing her whip menacingly as her hitherto stormy gaze on the Wolf Man agent shifted over to her betrothed. "Did you not hear the tomfoolery that this damn _foolish fool_ of a man just _said_ to me? He told me that I could not be your partner in the Borginia undercover investigation!"

"We are changing tactics because our standard investigation methods have been an exercise in futility! We need to do something more drastic!" Lang thundered. "We have wasted _how_ many years in Zheng-Fa before now, and God only knows how many millions of dollars, thinking we could find out the key source of the cocoon smuggling by investigating the importing country to which the goods were being smuggled _to_. Clearly, whoever is in charge has been way too good at covering their tracks, which means we must go start probing the _source_ of where the goods are stemming _from._ That means a highly dangerous sting operation, which _you_ , Franziska, absolutely _will not_ take part in, no matter _how_ many times you use that blasted whip!"

"I am one of the best Interpol agents you have, you foolish fool!" She cried as her eyes flashed flinty sparks of fury. "Have you forgotten that it was _I_ who was successful in helping you shut down one of the distribution systems in Zheng-Fa, as well getting you the contact information to get in touch with the source so that you could orchestrate this sting in the first place! Ergo, you have _no_ right to do this to me, you fool!"

Her whip whizzed through the air again, directed at Lang's long sideburn on the right side of his mien.

_"Not so fast!"_

Prepared for the onslaught this time, the Wolf Man raised his hand and caught the weapon, wrapping it around his huge hand and yanking it out of the angry woman's wielding fingers as he affected his best no-nonsense tone.

"We are going to have this conversation like adults, _Ane-san_. No more violence or tantrums, is that understood?"

"Do not _dare_ to patronize and call me _Big Sister_ now, of all times, Lang!"

Smoke was practically coming out of Franziska's ears; she was too angry to even note the respectful title despite being younger than her superior.

"I demand one good reason why you will not allow me to be the undercover agent by Mile's side while we go into this next phase of the venture. Who better to play the part of his lover than his _actual_ fiancée, you foolish fool of a man!"

Lang wearily dragged a hand down his mug.

"Well for starters, what with the legacy and infamy of your late father, as well as _your_ famous Von Karma name and face, you are way too well known here in Europe to try to play an undercover agent without being recognized by the wrong people and we just can't take that risk, Franziska."

"What foolish nonsense!" She declared, although her rage had simmered down to a lower boil as she contemplated her superior's words. "I would as surely go by a disguised name and appearance as Miles most definitely would – are you not worried that _he_ will be recognized as well?"

"Edgeworth was never at the forefront in the matters as _you_ have been; he's been strictly behind the scenes investigation this whole time, so no, his face is not well known," Lang explained with strained patience. "Also, his prosecuting fame was mostly prevalent in the States, so his name and reputation have not followed him overseas much at all. He will be a much better plant and much easier to disguise as a billionaire playboy for this reason."

" _A billionaire playboy_?"

Franziska's eyes narrowed as they slid over to her suddenly guilty-looking fiancé, for the first time taking in his recently acquired, closely-cropped long soul-patch and narrow mustache. Normally clean-shaven, she realized Miles hadn't shaved for over a good few weeks now…as though in anticipation for something of this sort…

The prosecutor caught the look of betrayal in the gray depths as the realization dawned on her then, and her eyes flickered for a second. But the pure anger flared again, and he couldn't stay away from her. He wanted to go to her, to soothe and help make her see the logical reason for all this.

The fiery femme's eyes didn't widen. Instead, they unhurriedly formed into unnerving slits as she directed her lethal glare at him.

"You _knew_ about this, Miles Edgeworth!" She accused, her voice wavering. "You have been made privy to their plans for you all this time! Moreover, you _knew_ they were planning on shutting me out! So that is how it is going to be, _nein?_ Fine then! But tell me something; was _this_ why you have been growing out your facial hair lately, to look like the alter ego of _Iron Man_?!"

"Wright advised me this would be the best route to go with!" Miles shrugged helplessly. "When I last emailed him, casually inquiring about how an alleged billionaire playboy appeared, he insisted I look up images of Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark! Apparently, this goatee was the look he possessed in all those _Marvel_ superhero movies!"

"Good call, Edgeworth," Lang nodded approvingly, oblivious to the look of hurt and betrayal on Franziska's face. "The finishing touches will be getting you some designer sunglasses, a fitted dark suit, and slicking back your hair. The pièce de résistance will be your arm candy, of course."

The couple swiveled their heads in unison at the agent upon hearing the last words, mouths agape.

_"Arm candy?!"_

"Of course." Lang shrugged. "You can't be a billionaire playboy looking for drugs and good times without the flashy car…or the even flashier, scantily-clad hot babe on his arm to complete the picture."

" _Hot babe_?" Franziska's voice had reached a fevered pitch now. "How is it that you _dare_ claim that you see fit to put some random…slutty-dressed wannabe _floozy_ on _my_ Miles' arm –while I am _still_ _present_? Are you trying to imply that _I_ do not fit that bill?"

Her infuriated gaze traveled back to her prized whip, still in the Agent's hand, as if contemplating snatching it out of his fingers.

"What reason do you have to determine I lack the sex appeal to fulfill this role, you _low-down, rotten, sneaky son-of-a_ …"

"Franziska, you're _pregnant_!" Miles exclaimed in exasperation.

She stared at him, shocked into silence at his unexpected outburst at what she'd thought was confidential information.

"I didn't want to get into personal matters and had hoped that my authoritative stance on the matter justification enough," Lang stated, crossing his muscular, leather-clad arms across his chest.

"However, since the cat's out of the bag, Franziska, that _is_ indeed the primary reason why I will not allow you to endanger yourself in this kind of precarious situation."

"I can't believe you told _him_!" Franziska shrieked, running over to Miles and pounding him in the chest with her tiny fists, until he finally caught her wrists, looking down at her with a tormented expression as he saw the tears of rage and betrayal in her eyes. "How could you deceive me like this Miles? How could you go and tell _him_ and _not even tell_ _me_ any of this?"

" _Meine Dame_ , please calm yourself," he pleaded. "It's still early, you shouldn't be getting so upset…"

"I'm only two months along! The baby isn't due till March, and I'm not even _showing_!" She shouted, at last ceasing her struggling efforts from his grip and instead of stamping her foot on the ground in helpless fury.

"Franziska…" his tone was beseeching. "I won't have the mother of my child risk her life or that of our baby like that. I love you both too much to let that happen. I'll not have you be put into danger…"

"To hell with you _both_!" Franziska finally managed to wrestle free from him and cast a wild-eyed glare at the two men. "I _hate_ you! I will _never_ forgive you for this betrayal, Miles!"

She turned and ran from the room then, out the door of the office and the front door, leaving a hapless-looking Lang and anguished-looking Miles behind in her wake

Once she'd reached the outside of the building though, taken in some fresh air, and forced her angry and admittedly, hormone-riddled mind to assess the situation, she grumpily recognized, in her heart of hearts, that _she_ had been the one in the wrong.

Ever since that fateful morning in Zheng-Fa nearly a year ago, when the two of them had had their heart-to-heart about wanting a baby, she and Miles had been trying, with no avail, for the longest time, to conceive again. No protection, no worries, just blissfully making love with wild abandon, whenever the opportunity arose. But nothing had happened. Month after month she'd frenetically checked that at-home urine-test, only to be disappointed at the negative results each time. Then, finally, at last, in June, on the night of her birthday, a miracle had happened, and a month later, they'd both been delighted to see that smiling face on the stick, indicating that at last, they'd been given another chance, and she was finally carrying their child.

They'd decided to keep her pregnancy a secret, for now, telling nobody – especially since she was still in the first trimester – so she'd been beyond stunned to learn that Miles had gone behind her back and told their boss of her delicate condition! It was humiliating – it made her look weak, helpless, and unprofessional…for heaven's sake she was in her _mid-20's_ now! A grown woman who should be allowed to make her own choices! How dare her fiancé act like her father – or worse, her lord and master and make executive decisions like this behind her back!

With a rueful sigh, she shook her head at that ridiculous notion, dismissing it as soon as it entered her head. Deep down, Franziska knew Miles had not been trying to play God with her, at least not without just cause. He loved her and simply didn't want to endanger her or their baby, especially after the heartache they'd faced four years ago. She would need to apologize to both men for the erratic way she'd behaved.

Hell, she could blame her pre-existing tempestuous nature as now being magnified due to the pregnancy hormones. And she still had a good 7 months to _milk the hell_ out of _that_ excuse! She idly wondered, as she reached into her bag and hit the speed-dial button for their home mansion back in Germany on her cell phone and listened to the rings, just how much _Arsch_ -kissing she'd have to do to Lang in order to get her trusty whip back. Hmmm, to regain his trust, she supposed she'd have to prove she was capable of being level-headed and rational…

"Hello?" A sleepy – and distinctly _female_! – cadence murmured into the receiver after about half a dozen rings.

Franziska stared at the phone as though it were some sort of contaminated item in her hand, her full lips parted in a silent gasp. The voice didn't have the Bavarian accent of Helga, her head housekeeper back at home, whom she'd called to give some additional home-care instructions to. No, the unfamiliar voice sounded American and sleepy, as though having just been risen from slumber!

"Hello?" The voice on the phone said again, sounding a tad impatient now. "Who is this?"

"Who the hell is _this_?" Franziska shrieked, forgetting her earlier decision to be calm and rational now.

"Oops, shouldn't have answered," the voice mumbled, and then all she heard a click as the woman hung up.

Seething, she looked at the number she'd dialed, and was infuriated to note that in her haste, instead of having called the speed-dial number for her home in Germany, she'd called Miles' penthouse home back in LA! Where absolutely _nobody_ else was supposed to be residing other than Hendricks, who, unless he'd gotten a sex-change operation or _castrated_ himself was most definitely not the one in possession of the high-pitched, feminine voice she'd just heard!

"Franziska!"

The Agent whirled around at the sound of her name and saw Miles jogging towards her, a look of earnestness on his handsome face. He stopped before her, placing her hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her with loving relief. " _Meine Dame_ , I'm so glad I caught up with you!"

She shrugged free from his grip and glared at him, sparks flying out of her eyes.

"Miles Edgeworth, why the hell is it now that every time I call your phone some random woman answers it?!"

"What?!" A startled look flashed across his features.

"I just called your – _our –_ home, back in Los Angeles by accident while I was trying to call Helga," she bit out. "And some random _Frau_ answered the line! Care to explain yourself?"

Miles clapped a hand to his forehead.

_Note to self – murder both Wright and his girlfriend in their sleep next time I'm in town for causing me this latest strife, however unwittingly…_

" _Meine Dame_ ," he replied patiently, rubbing his hands up and down her tense shoulder. "That wasn't a _Frau_ …"

_"Really?"_ She derided humorlessly. "You could have fooled me!"

"No, it was most assuredly not just _some woman!_ If you could please calm down and hear me out…"

She cut him off again.

"Unless there is a kept _man_ , instead of a kept _woman_ , with an alarmingly high falsetto whom you are keeping in the luxe lifestyle in our home, I would certainly beg to the contrary!"

"God's elbow, Franziska! That was _Miss Fey!"_ He blurted out.

"Miss Fey? You mean … _Maya_?" Franziska's eyes widened. "What on earth is _Maya Fey_ doing in our house?"

_Presumably, **Phoenix Wright**! However, logic would dictate this isn't the answer that needs to be spoken at this moment! _Miles bit back the sarcastic retort threatening to spring from his lips. _Goddammit! I could have **sworn** I commanded to that imbecile and his girlfriend **never** , under any circumstances, to answer the phone!_

"She stays over there whenever she's down in LA for Kurain Master conferences or meetings," Miles explained. "The rest of it is a bit of a long story…"

He quickly gave her the quick rundown of the situation which he now realized he'd been remiss in sharing. Franziska listened intently, nodding, and even giggled slightly when he joked about how he'd instructed the butler to essentially rig and nail down every _Steel Samurai_ bit of memorabilia so it would be spared Maya's undoubtedly sticky fingers.

"Ergo, you see, it's perfectly innocuous," he concluded. "Although after that time you called my cell and had Kay answer it, I can see why you may have gotten the wrong idea."

"I blame these hormones, _Liebling_ …I am overreacting to _everything_ ," she admitted, blushing at her foolishness. "I am very sorry. Nevertheless, on both counts…Maya…this sting, why did you not you tell me about all this earlier?"

"I agreed to help Wright and Miss Fey out of their extenuating circumstances years ago… right before … our _misfortune."_ Miles winced. "Hence, it entirely slipped my mind."

"Understandable. Phoenix Wright is most fortunate to have a friend as loyal and generous as you, _Liebling_. But I know he has had his share of bad luck, so it is wonderful you were able to assist him in this matter."

"He's a downright fool at times, Franziska, but he's _my_ fool," Miles sighed. "Moreover, he has done a lot for me in the past, as well."

"I agree with you completely. However, as our bedroom, and our _bed_ is their rendezvous safe place..." Franziska's eyes gleamed with derision. "I do hope after everything is said and done, you will have Hendricks _incinerate_ all the sheets, will you not, _Liebling?"_

"Never mind burning the linens," he drawled, tapping her on the nose. "I promise you that I shall ensure we get ourselves a brand-new _bed_ and present our _old_ one to them as an early wedding present!"

They both snickered, then his expression grew serious again.

"But back to this…everything since…this whole operation…our schedules…I genuinely forgot about it, _meine Dame_. Forgive me; my deception was completely unintentional."

"I do forgive you, Miles. I hope you can forgive me." She pulled his head down to hers for a gentle kiss. "I love you so much."

"Always, _meine Dame_. I love you, too."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled tenderly down at her.

"With regards to the sting…that wasn't exactly my decision to make, keeping you out of the operation. I told Lang that you were in the family way a month ago when he made me aware that he needed me to be the plant. He said he would tell you about it when the time was right…and for some reason decided that today would be the day. I was following orders from our superior, Franziska – although I'm sorry that meant keeping things temporarily secret from you."

"All is forgiven, Miles!" She insisted, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. "However, I'm certainly hoping that is the _only_ other secret you've been keeping from me? There is absolutely

_nothing_ else that you think I should be in the know about?"

"I have disclosed every single one of my past chronicles that would have any effect on our present circumstances," he promised. "You have my word!"

"Good! I just wanted to clarify – are you iwis that there are _zero_ pending surprises may get sprung upon me in the foreseeable future?" She prodded with a teasing smirk. "There is absolutely no other matter, _whatsoever_ , that may have possibly slipped your mind?"

"None in the least," he swore, taking her hand and leading her back into the building. "I'm a boring old prosecutor, Franziska. And you've been raised by my side for most of my dull, uneventful life. What other deep, dark skeletons could I possibly have lurking in my closet?"

"I guess none, you dull old man you!"

They were both grinning as they entered the office again, finding Lang with one hand holding his cell to his ear. With his free one, he was doing practice lashes with the leather weapon, expertly wrapping it around the out of reach items on his desk and using it to draw them near. He ceased his whip-wielding when he saw the two, looking a tad embarrassed to have been caught in such indecorous behavior.

"You're back, Franziska," he said brusquely, looking over at Miles. "I take it you two have smoothed things out then?"

"We have, Agent Lang," she replied sweetly. "I wish to apologize for my conduct earlier. You were right about your decision. The sting _is_ too dangerous for a pregnant woman. But I do hope that I will still be doing my regular Interpol agent duties and not be completely kept out of the loop?"

"Of course! In fact, you'll be right in the eye of the hurricane!" Lang assured her. "You're one of our finest agents, Franziska. We still want you to trail the plant, er Miles, in the van whereas needed, and do stakeout and surveillance, as is customary."

"Very well. Tell me, who will be accompanying him, then? Kay Faraday?"

" _Me?!_ Awesomesauce!" The Yatagarasu's familiar chirp could be heard crowing excitedly from the other end of the line. Lang frowned into his phone at the word choice. "I'm super-stoked to be Mr. Edgeworth's fake bimbo for this stunt!"

Miles barely resisted an amused snort at the lively ninja's effusiveness, while Lang was trying hard to hose down the girl's burning enthusiasm.

"Negative on that, Kay. We'll need you to keep an ear to the ground during all of this and keep close tabs on the suspect," the Wolf Man informed Miles' former assistant turned fellow Interpol agent. "We may even need to utilize your Great Thief espionage skills, should the need arise for you to break into a place that requires _truth-stealing_."

"Why can she not do double duty?" Franziska suggested mildly. "If anyone can pull off stealth and secret identity, it would be the daughter of the original Yatagarasu."

"Because we need a smoking hot, sexy femme-fatale type, not a perky girl-child with a key in her hair!" Lang barked, clearly frustrated with the conversation. "How's _that_ for a good enough reason?"

"Objection!" Kay protested. "Who are you calling a _kid_ , Wolf Man? I'm _23_ now, I'll have you know!"

Lang sighed, dropped the whip onto the desk, and began rubbing his temple with his free hand. Seizing her opportunity, Franziska discreetly grabbed it and silently slipped it back onto her hip holster, smiling angelically at the irked agent the whole time. The Wolf Man was too engrossed in the phone call to even notice.

"Yes, Kay, I'm sure you're now a lovely young woman," the Zheng-Fa citizen acknowledged dryly. "Nonetheless, you're far too valuable an asset for us to risk at the moment."

Miles bit back a chuckle, then frowned as a disturbing thought hit him.

The prosecutor wasn't quite sure if this implication insinuated that _he_ was a less valuable part of the sting by comparison since Lang had borne zero qualms about putting _Miles'_ neck on the line to go undercover, or if the other man was merely trying to placate the feisty girl.

"We already have someone in mind," the Interpol head continued. "She's a special field agent that we've been extensively been training for years just for this particular assignment. She is aware it's a high-risk situation but has agreed to the terms as part of her early parole, and in exchange, we will be expunging her records after 10 years as part of the agreement. No, she's not a stranger to the field at all. She was already in the world of law many moons ago."

_Someone who had been in law…but then had been convicted of a crime…as they'd been paroled? As in, had done prison time? And was now agreeing to a top-secret, dangerous mission in exchange for clearing her criminal background?_

Miles' brow furrowed as he tried to piece together the bewildering tidbits of information that he was hearing but drew a complete blank. It was a bizarre, but not unheard-of situation, of course, for someone of prior influence to negotiate some sort of bargain in exchange for their freedom. But for the life of him, he couldn't imagine who it could be. Perhaps someone from Europe? Or even Zheng-Fa?

"Yes, yes, you will be working with her as well. As luck would have it, she's on her way here as we speak, which is why I called you," Lang was telling them. "I figured the timing was perfect, as Franziska and Edgeworth are here now as well. As a matter of fact, Detective Badd should be coming along with her any moment now."

"Someone call my name?" A deep voice from the office entrance intoned just then.

The three turned their heads, where a male figure stood, his large frame filling the whole doorway. He was large, unshaven, and wore a coat that looked like it had been salvaged from a war zone. Even the man's loosely dangling tie carried similar holes.

After taking a suspicious look back and forth, the man shoved his hands in his coat pockets and began trudging forward. A white stick, which looked like a cigarette between his lips, flicked slightly as he walked. The man pulled his hand back out of his coat. In it, he held a small, personal mirror. After giving himself the once over, he stuffed it back in his pocket. He removed the stick from his lips, which actually turned out to be a _lollipop!_

"Detective Tyrell Badd, at your service," he said gruffly. "Nice to see you all again. I brought along with the requested company, Agent Lang. Behold your newest Interpol addition."

A shadow stepped out from behind the burly man. At first, all Miles spotted a flash of a jacket and a willowy form, but then, as if in slow motion, the rest of the body emerged into view.

And it was within that moment, for the first time in his life, that the cool, calm prosecutor felt his composure completely unravel.

As his thunderstruck gaze fell upon the face that had been haunting his memories – _and very recent fantasies!_ – for the past near-decade, his eyes went round with shock, and his jaw dropped to his chest as he realized _who_ had been assigned to play the part of his _arm-candy bimbo!_

" _Lana?"_ He gasped.


	46. Fire And Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N – this chapter's timeline takes place during the SL-9 incident, which was the one that the whole foundation the Rise From the Ashes game was based on. So…I guess the time falls around the RFTA prequel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A human being who trades away individuality for conformity is nothing but a slave."

**_Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Los Angeles Criminal Affairs Department_  
October 30, 2014, 3:00 PM

There was a knock on the door to Lana's office, causing the workaholic detective to pause in her paperwork. The door opened, revealing a towering hulk of a man in his early 60's with twinkling green eyes over his ever-present pink sunglasses, which were perched upon his tanned hawkish nose.

"Come on in!" She called, smiling at the sight of Damon Gant, her office mate and literal partner in crime.

"Glad I found you here, Skye."

"What's up, Gant? Going on a donut run?" She flashed a teasing smile at her workmate. "Make mine a Boston cream, please."

"Oh, you're hilarious, Skye," The silver-haired detective flashed a wry grin. "Nope, no donuts for you this time. I just wanted to you to introduce you to someone." Her wide-shouldered co-worker stepped aside and ushered the man who'd been standing behind him into the room. "Skye, I'd like you to meet the man who hopefully will be making his US courtroom debut once we finally catch the bastard behind these SL-9 killings, Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth."

Edgeworth stepped inside and as his eyes met Lana's, she found herself unabashedly staring at the flawless male specimen before her.

Her mouth went dry.

_Your reaction is completely inappropriate, not to mention ridiculous_! The small, sane remaining part of her mind screamed at her. _Act your age, woman! You're 27-years-old, not some hormonally-crazed teenager! And this – **man/boy** can't be more than 22-years-old! Stop gawking at him already! Besides, have you forgotten that you're **spoken** for?! To one **helluva** looker, to boot!_

Right. She had a lover already. Jake Marshall. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Studly. Her fellow detective boyfriend, whom she'd been seeing the past few months. The cowboy-loving man with the sultry Western drawl wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, and there was no denying that he most definitely sported head-turning, rugged good looks in his own right.

But there was _good-looking_ …and then there was _Miles Edgeworth_.

Lana felt her breath catch in her throat as she studied him intently. Edgeworth's tall and broad-shouldered frame was clad in a well-fitted merlot-red suit and snowy ruffled cravat, which should have made him look like some sort of old-fashioned, flouncy dandy sort. But instead, it perfectly set off his immaculately groomed greyish-black hair, which she suddenly itched to run her fingers through. His bone structure was fine, his chiseled features perfectly symmetrical. He had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, his pale skin making him look devilishly handsome. And those eyes…Lana had never seen eyes like his before in her entire life. He had strong arched brows and eyelashes so thick, it could be illegal. She was utterly mesmerized by those long-lashed, grey eyes, the color of ash remnants of a roaring fire.

Much like the fire that had ignited _inside of her_ at the sight of him, in a way that it _never_ had before with her Jake!

It was an irrevocable case of _lust_ at first sight. She sure wouldn't need to ask him to walk by her again!

On shaky legs, Lana rose from her desk and walked over to shake his hand, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight trembling of her fingers as his long, elegant ones clasped hers. At the touch of his skin, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. Standing this close before him, she could see the flecks of silver in his eyes, the momentary knowing glint in them leading her to realize she wasn't the only one who had been affected by the contact. She dropped her gaze to the well-manicured, yet masculine fingers still gripping hers and cleared her throat before allowing her eyes to meet his again.

"Detective Lana Skye." The pleasant, professional smile on her pretty face hopefully belied none of her lascivious thoughts. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Edgeworth."

"The pleasure is _all_ mine, Detective Skye," he assured her, bowing slightly in a smooth, fluid motion that would have looked ludicrous if done by any other man, yet with this man, was suave genteel epitomized. There was a hint of a teasing smile on his lips, indicating he was well-aware of her ill-hidden reaction to him.

Lana flushed slightly.

"The department is quite happy to have you take over this case when we capture the perpetrator, Mr. Edgeworth. I'm not sure how much Detective Gant has told you about the homicides thus far, but I can assure you that this first case of yours will be the most memorable one."

"Actually, Detective Skye, my first case was last February." The debonair young man's cadence, as polished and elegant as the rest of him, was vaguely British sounding. "I squared off against a rather formidable opponent; a rookie attorney by the name of Mia Fey."

_My old college friend?_ Lana was taken aback by this news, but her partner in crime interrupted before she could voice her thoughts. _What a small world!_

"Ah, my mistake, dear boy." Gant emitted a loud, booming laugh, making both Lana and Edgeworth start, as they'd nearly forgotten he was still in the room. "I guess I misunderstood Von Karma then! Although I could have sworn that he declared you as a prodigal genius with an undefeated record – I'd taken that to mean that this was your first ever _American_ case and you'd had a long streak of wins over in Europe!"

"While it is true that I've yet to have _lost_ a case…" The rookie lawyer smiled thinly at their flummoxed expressions. "I technically still cannot claim that I've _won_ a case to date, either."

"Jesus Christ with a crack pipe! Why the riddle speak?" Gant idly twirled the grey curl in the middle of his forehead. "Care to elaborate on just what _that's_ supposed to mean?"

"The defendant of my premier trial against the illustrious Miss Fey…" Edgeworth's smooth brow furrowed as he recalled at the memory. "He, er, committed suicide on the witness stand."

_"Suicide?"_ Lana gasped. "How awful!"

"Yes, quite the tragedy," the handsome prosecutor abruptly ceased frowning and gave a slight shrug of attempted nonchalance. "But that's neither here nor there now, is it? I am quite confident in the LAPD's ability to apprehend the killer, Detective Skye, especially with you and Detective Gant on the case. He's spoken most highly of your sleuthing skills."

"Did he now?" Lana shot an impish grin at her partner. "Well, wasn't that nice of him? I suppose this is my cue to tell you that Gant ain't too bad of a cop either then?"

"You're both referred to as the Legendary Duo, are you not?" Edgeworth countered, crossing his arms across his chest and smiling at her. "Surely not the kind of praise that is given lightly?"

Lana blushed modestly. "I suppose not."

"You know that you're kind of a big deal when even greenhorn prosecutors have heard of us, huh, Skye?" Gant chuckled, clapping Edgeworth affectionately on the shoulder with his huge hand. "Come along, Miles, I need to introduce you to the rest of the team in charge of investigating the SL-9 case, detectives Bruce Goodman, Angel Star, and Skye's _personal favorite_ , Jake Marshall."

It was the prosecutor's turn to look confused this time.

"Personal favorite?" Edgeworth echoed.

"He and Skye are kind of a _thing_ ," Gant confided with a smirk as he ushered the younger man out, ignoring the irritated look his partner shot him for discussing her personal affairs with a total stranger. "Take it easy, Skye."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Detective Skye," Edgeworth graciously inclined his head at her, although his previous conviviality seemed to have lessened a tad since finding out the news that she was off the market. "I'll be seeing you, then."

Lana returned his perfunctory smile with a cordial one of her own, despite her own attempted cool demeanor was the opposite of her thoughts.

A sly smirk curved on her lips.

_Not if I see **you** first, Mr. Edgeworth._

* * *

**_Lana Skye_**  
 _Chief Prosecutor's Office_  
February 25, 2015, 8:00 PM

Devastation and hopelessness were the only emotions Lana had been experiencing since the end of the SL-9 case. The ability to laugh, to smile, to feel any sort of joy completely alluded her, and she had no idea when or if she ever would be able to again.

Up until last week, when Neil had been murdered, life hadn't been perfect, what them all spending every hour around the clock trying to catch the culprit behind the mysterious homicides, but it had been filled with _some_ areas of happiness. Things had been going well with Jake, who had, at last, told her that he loved her, and was hinting at the two of them moving in together in the near future. She was enjoying the challenges of her work as a detective, as well as the friendly, not-so-idle flirtations she shared with Edgeworth whenever he'd come by for required evidence on cases he was working on.

Lana sensed he was holding back on his obvious attraction to her because she was in a relationship, but she unabashedly acknowledged that she rejoiced in seeing the look of admiration in his eyes whenever he thought she didn't notice, and she, in turn, found him to be clever, witty and engaging whenever he indulged her in a battle of wits on occasion. Even though he was five years her junior, there was a maturity in him that belied his years, and she couldn't help but admire that, along with his work ethic. For such a young man, he'd achieved quite a lot already, career-wise, and she had little doubt that he would be the utmost success in all of his future endeavors.

Also, he was so _different_ from Jake!

Lana was thinking, more and more often, that ranchers in Stetsons were sexy only in Western films! Especially when, for the love of all that was holy, the cowboy enthusiast was born and raised in _California_ , not _Texas_! He was no more a yokel country folk than _she_ was!

There were times she was sure that she loved Jake Marshall, and wanted to jump at the opportunity to "shack up" with him, as he'd so eloquently put it. But then there were times when she wondered what other dining venues were out there that didn't mostly include some sort of pasta or spaghetti! And had an actual wine list! She wondered what it would be like to be greeted with something other than 'howdy' and called a pet name other than _Bambina_.

In every one of these potential scenarios she'd been imagining since their fateful meeting in her office last fall, the man was always Edgeworth – a man of refinement. Of _taste_. Of _style_. Of _class_. A man who would have no concept of what a _poncho_ was and would recoil in horror at the concept of _drinking wine from a box_! A partner who would actually take her out _dancing_ , instead of spinning her around the makeshift dance floor of a tavern, to a jukebox blaring country western music and refer to it as a ' _hoe-dow_ n'! A gentleman who would occasionally opt for a _filet mignon_ rather than Salisbury steak, take her to places other than his familiar ' _stompin ground'_ saloons to ' _wet his whistle_.' Or at the very least, not scoff and dismiss any other suggested venue as ' _them high-falootin fancy, schmancy places that are only fer these namby-pamby city-slickers!_ '

Most importantly, she wondered what it'd be like to make love to a man in a place _other than a bed_ , and not be forced to be the one to have to always take the top and holler ' _ride em, cowboy_!'

Furthermore, she wanted to know what it was like to fuck a man who _took his hat off_ during sex!

Even all _that_ she'd managed to overlook for the past near year!

But then Neil had been killed and soon after, Gant, in one of his first acts as Police Chief, had fired Angel Star, who was now pedaling lunches, and demoted the still grieving Jake to patrolman guard of the evidence room!

And then, on top of _that_ , Jake's girlfriend had suddenly been unwittingly _promoted_.

Talk about adding _insult_ to _injury_!

Unaware of the circumstances surrounding Lana's newly appointed role, which she could in no way tell him, the new situation had put such a strain on their relationship that there appeared to be no end, or hope of reparation, within sight! There were times Lana wasn't even sure who _she_ was anymore … and most of the time, she felt she no longer knew _Jake!_ He'd become more and more distant since his brother died, refusing to open up to her and let her be there for him, preferring to drown his sorrows at his favorite tavern, and acting resentful of her because of her new job as a 'big shot' and acting as if she could no longer relate to the 'little folk anymore!

For her part, Lana was trying to deal with the fact that her only remaining family, her baby sister, had nearly been murdered…and was potentially the one who had accidentally killed Neil Marshall! Her continued guilt and silence over the matter only created a further rift between her and Jake, but what choice did she have? It felt hypocritical to be trying to offer him comfort, knowing what she did, and then there was the horrible, lecherous Gant she had to contend with now.

Lana had sold her soul to the devil. The blackmailing son of a bitch who'd helped her cover up Ema's crime so the Skye sisters wouldn't have that cross to bear. However, Gant, who incidentally, was old enough to be her _father,_ had also been making it more and more clear, as he had just now on the phone, that he was expecting _some sort of repayment_ for his _kindness and generosity_ in the whole matter!

Just the thought of it made her skin crawl and hysteria rise within her.

_Kindness and generosity?_ Lana thought bitterly. _The only reason that bastard promoted me was so that he could keep tabs on me while **blackmailing** me! And Jake is jealous about this? I never wanted it! I never wanted any of this! But I can't tell him the truth. How he'd despise me if he knew. And then Ema…_

Nope. It wasn't going to happen. Ema was her baby, her sole reason for living. Lana would die before she'd ever let anything happen to her. Therefore, she would degrade and debase herself and suffer anything to ensure the now-teenage girl who she'd raised would go on and live a blissful, happy, although oblivious, existence, no matter how much _she_ had to suffer in order to make that happen.

Aside from Ema, Jake was all she had. She needed him. And _he_ needed _her_ too…even if he couldn't properly express it.

The night before, Lana and Jake had gotten into a screaming match over his shirking duties at work, and his drunken late nights were causing him to miss work more and more. He had stormed off and not returned until dawn, smelling of cheap liquor and…Salisbury steak – just like the one from Angel's lunch wagon…even though he'd insisted her accusations were ridiculous.

Ergo, she tried her hardest to believe him.

She knew she had to be supportive. He was grieving and hurting and needed her love and patience. She couldn't just up and leave the man while he was down! And she loved, Jake. She honestly did, she insisted to herself as she hung up the phone from her latest threatening call from Gant and began to sob.

Lana Skye had never felt more miserable, alone, and helpless in her entire life.

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth & Lana Skye_**  
 _Chief Prosecutor's Office_  
February 25, 2015, 8:00 PM

Miles rapped on the door Lana's office for the second time, but there was no answer. Which was odd, because he'd seen the light shining from underneath the door, and her car was still in the parking lot, the only one left at the office other than his own. He'd come by to give Lana the last of the records and paperwork, officially closing the SL-9 incident. That was the case that Gant had initially assumed he would be taking over, but which had ultimately been given to his senior colleague, Prosecutor Neil Marshall.

He had been unwittingly thrust into the newly vacated role of Prosecutor when Joe Darke, the serial killer behind all the grisly homicides that they'd been seeking since last fall, had at last been apprehended - but unfortunately not before making Marshall his final victim in his heinous murder spree.

Darke had since been incarcerated and was sentenced to death row. The arduous case had been wrapped up a week prior, and now Miles was delivering the requested final case files to his new boss, who had just been promoted the month before to Chief Prosecutor by the newly appointed Police Chief and former partner, Damon Gant. The last of the paperwork had taken forever to complete, and Miles was eager to deliver them as requested and at last head on home. It had been a long day.

Frustrated at the lack of response to his knocking, Miles hesitantly turned the doorknob and to his surprise, found it open. He was even more astounded at the sight that greeted him.

The normally disciplined and hardworking, albeit cheery and pleasant, the former detective was sitting hunched over at her desk, completely oblivious to his arrival. Several folders and papers were messily scattered about, and her head was buried in her hands, her slender shoulders shaking with sobs that wracked her whole body.

Miles stood there awkwardly, uncertain of what to do, and debated about ducking out before she noticed him standing there, witnessing her breakdown. He struggled with his options, feeling utterly torn.

On the one hand, he was unaccustomed to having to deal with such scenarios – his mentor, Manfred, had run a tight ship, raising both Miles and his adopted sister, Franziska to be as emotionally guarded and brusque as he. Ergo, Miles had never been overly uncomfortable with expressing or even feeling emotions of his _own_ – never mind being those of a weeping person! And dealing with the weeping of an emotional _female_ was about as welcome to him as a trip in an elevator!

But on the other hand, he was quite fond of the captivating and alluring Lana Skye – both as a cohort, and as a person, and his innate gentlemen qualities just couldn't allow him to ignore a damsel in distress. Especially not this particular one.

Miles was reluctant to admit it, but there was something about the brunette beauty he'd found particularly beguiling right out of the gate, when Gant had introduced them last year, and he'd been led to believe by her coquettish actions towards him that she'd been as struck by his presence as he'd been by hers. But then Gant, perhaps sensing the blossoming mutual attraction, had nipped things in the bud when he'd had not-so-discreetly let it slip that Lana was the girlfriend of Detective Jake Marshall, and that had been the end of that.

Despite working with her sporadically on his other cases the last few months, Miles had swallowed his initial attraction and tried to maintain a friendly distance, trying to block out the images of her come-hither glances and luminous smile. Innocuous flirting was one thing, and at times, while he indulged in the odd playful banter with her, he repeatedly reminded himself that Lana Skye was off-limits. She belonged to another man, and Miles Edgeworth had no desire whatsoever to be a homewrecker of any sort, even if he _did_ often think a classy lady like Lana could have done better for herself than a wannabe cowboy whose idea of a seven-course meal probably consisted of a plate of spaghetti and a six-pack of beer!

Whatever, it was her choice. Miles had simply thrown himself into his work and tried his best to get the unforgettable Detective Skye out of his mind and turned a blind eye to everything, including all other women, to work. It wasn't much of a stretch, truthfully.

Normally the workaholic prosecutor was blissfully oblivious to female admirers, although over the years Franziska had been teasing her "Little Brother" about how handsome he'd become, and how he was the targeted crush of her numerous girlfriends over the years. However, he'd dismissed such proclamations. For one thing, albeit a budding beauty, his adopted sister was only 15 and her childish idol worship could hardly be taken seriously. For another, Miles had been too focused on his lofty achievement of becoming a prosecutor by the age of 20 – and hopefully winning the respect of Manfred while at it – to pay women much mind.

Well, the loss of his virginity to his piano teacher, Gretchen, who was ten years his senior, seven years ago notwithstanding…

Miles cleared his throat uncomfortably, opting, at last, to let Lana know of his presence, and her head shot-up, looking up at him with red, watery eyes.

"Edgeworth," she muttered, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hands and rising from her seat, all resumed poise and haughty countenance intact again. "What brings you here?"

"I er, brought you those files you wanted on that SL-9 case, Chief Skye," Miles mumbled, averting his eyes from the tears he could see still sparkling in her lovely teal eyes despite her vain attempts at professionalism. "I – I'm sorry to have just barged on you like this. I did attempt to knock, but there was no answer, and you did indicate you wanted the final papers tonight…"

"You're right, I did." She walked over to him then and lifted her chin. "Thank you, Edgeworth. I appreciate your due diligence in this matter. I'm sure you'll be as relieved as I am to finally put this nightmare all behind us."

He caught the pain in her eyes at the words, and it was at the moment that Miles realized just what a hellacious ordeal the whole case must have been for the Chief. Not only had Neil Marshall been her boyfriend Jake's brother, but her younger sister, Ema, whom she'd raised almost as her own daughter, had nearly become Darke's victim as well.

Miles knew that as much as Manfred had raised him to be a stoic son of a bitch, he was still Gregory Edgeworth's son first and foremost, and still had a heart underneath his icy veneer – he didn't know what he would have done if anything had ever happened to Franziska, who he truly loved as if she were his own flesh and blood. And now Lana was dealing with the additional responsibilities of her impromptu promotion on top of probably still trying to console her freshly grieving lover over his brother's passing.

How much could one poor woman possibly endure?

_She is an exquisite piece of broken pottery, put back together by her own hands. And a critical world judges her cracks while missing the beauty._

Miles took a deep breath and slowly released it before speaking his next words.

"I can only imagine what all this must have been like for you, Chief Skye," he said quietly. "And for what it's worth…I'm glad I could help put that monster behind bars where he belongs, where he can never hurt anyone ever again."

Lana attempted to smile at his words, but then her lips began to tremble, and she blinked rapidly to stop the tears that once again had begun forming in her eyes. She looked away and grabbed the file from his hands.

"Most appreciated, Edgeworth," she replied stiffly, keeping her head down as she turned back towards her desk. "I shall take care of these now. That will be all."

It was an obvious dismissal, one that Miles knew, as her subordinate, that he was obligated to comply with, yet he couldn't leave just yet. A voice in the back of his head niggled at him that there was more to this than met the eye – and that she shouldn't be left alone in her current state. He had to at least try to offer her his condolences if naught else.

"Chief Skye...Lana...I know how hard this must have been on Jake…and on you."

He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around so she could see his sympathetic expression.

"And I know words can't possibly ease the suffering you and Jake have both gone through, and are still going through, but I just wanted to let you know – you have my utmost sympathies. I'm truly sorry."

Lana's lips parted, about to tell him that she was beyond needing any obligatory consolation and platitudes, but her words died in her throat as she looked at the veracity in his handsome face, along with something along the lines of…empathy? How was that even possible? Did Edgeworth also have a sob story under that stern demeanor? Was it possible that he could _truly_ understand, at some level, the fresh hell her life had become?

"You _really_ mean it, don't you Miles?" She breathed. Peering searchingly into his eyes, she was astounded at the unmasked whirling emotions she saw there now. "You're not just saying you're sorry to be nice…you really and truly _are_ , aren't you?"

The prosecutor found he couldn't speak. Someway, somehow, _this_ woman had made him take his guard down with her tears, and he had no idea how to draw it back up. Wasn't even sure if he could…or even _wanted_ to. He merely nodded mutely, and even though he normally hated to be touched, didn't even try to resist when she reached up and placed her hands on either side of his face, her wide-eyed gaze transfixed on his.

"You _know_ , don't you?" She whispered, her eyes wide and seeking. " _You_ know what it's like…to have your world turn upside down and feel like you have nobody."

It was a statement, not a question.

Miles was stunned at the insightful revelation she'd realized…of the secret pain he'd tried to bury all these years since his father's murder. He'd always tried to mask his suffering under his laconic, impassive façade… How was it that _this_ woman, whom he'd only known for _four_ _months_ , could see so deeply into his heart? Into his _soul_?

Lana stared into his beautiful grey eyes; the swirls of emotion she saw there made her breath catch. She was completely mesmerized. They were the grey of the last ashes on fire, tossed upon the breeze. Those hypnotic orbs now gazed deeply into hers, ensnaring her from that moment in a net of intrigue, comfort, and promise, all at once.

His hand reached under her hair below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek, his eyes revealing more than his words could express.

They both knew it was coming. There was one final intense look before she pulled his face closer. Hesitantly, she glanced up at him one last time. Lust and desire. However, before she could ponder about it further, he yanked her to him.

Unexpectedly, his hand drifted to her hip and settled there and pulled her closer. She inhaled sharply. She was against his warm chest, chiseled to perfection. _Must_ he be so perfect? She splayed her hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead, she left it there. His breathing quickened as did hers. He began nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses. So faint, they were whispers. She urged herself to push away, but couldn't. Her limp body began to tremble uncontrollably. His head was angled slightly to the side as his lips came closer and closer to hers. She was surprised to find her own lips parted. Their breaths mingled. Her heart fluttered inside her chest. At first, it was a delicate butterfly of a kiss. Then his arms encircled her and his hungry mouth devoured her own.

The kiss obliterated every thought. For the first time in forever, Lana's mind was locked into the present. The worries of the day evaporated like a summer shower onto a hot car. Her usual mode of hurrying from one thing to the next was suspended, she had no wish for the kiss to end.

Drunk on endorphins, Miles' only desire was to touch her, to move his hands under her blouse, and feel her perfect softness. In moments the soft caress had become firmer, he savored her lips and the quickening of her breath that matched his own. A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise of much more to come.

When they finally parted, she looked up at him with her beautiful, tear-stained face and he felt a stirring within his chest that he'd never felt before. As trite as it seemed, the moment was just like the movies. For that single moment, time stopped. It was just them.

Then his lips claimed hers again.

Lana no longer cared about the world or the people around her. She no longer paid heed or mind to them. There were no cruelties, no death, no suffering. Right there, at that moment, it was just her and Edgeworth. Because apart they might be as different as night and day, black and white, right and wrong, but together they created two sides of a whole. Together they balanced.

_It is a frightening thought, that in one fraction of a moment you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over._

She wasn't sure what this meant or what would happen tomorrow. All she knew was that right now, kissing Miles Edgeworth was the best idea in the world.


	47. When Love And Hate Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If two past lovers can remain as friends, it's because they're still in love…or they never really were."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Interpol Offices, Borginia_  
August 7, 2024, 3:35 PM

Miles prided himself on always being able to keep his cool. The ever sane, logical – albeit semi _laconic_ –voice of reason in most situations. Considering the company he'd kept for the past near-decade: a tempestuous fiancée; an emo head case for a best friend; a bumbling, albeit good-hearted, occasional masochist detective partner; and a childhood friend who was more often than not a shameful, good-for-nothing blight on the face of humanity – it was the result which was equal parts nurture as well as _a necessity_!

For Pete's sake, just four or five years ago, he'd been accused of _murder_ , (again!) on an _airplane_ and then been accosted for the crime he'd been innocent of! And then he'd had done the investigations _himself_ and ascertain the perpetrator to prove himself blameless to boot!

And somehow, he'd _still_ managed to maintain his equanimity completely!

In short, Miles Edgeworth was ever the turn-to, level-headed man; the voice of reason in any sort of crisis, or unexpected situation!

These were the thoughts that were rapidly flying through his mind at the moment – to little avail whatsoever! – as the normally unruffled cravat-wearer now found a visible sweat forming over his brow, and his lips still parted in astonishment, at the impromptu sight of his former lover after almost ten years.

It was just his ill fate to be caught completely off guard like this! He'd somehow missed out on his former paramour's debut back to society after being sprung from prison five years ago. That had been the night at The Borscht Bowl when the rest of his friends had seen Lana, along with Ema, at the crowded bar for Maya's 21st birthday. The Skye sisters had dropped by their table to say hello but he and Franziska had been too busy tearing it up on the dance floor when this had occurred. Then, as his rotten luck would have had it, by the time he and his fiancée had returned to the group, both sisters had been gone. At the time, Miles had been beyond relieved– what _sane_ man ever wished for his past and present lovers to ever come within the vicinity of each other? – especially since the fiery Lady Von Whippingberg had already used her whip enough that night! He'd furtively cast a silent _thank-you_ to the mysterious forces of the universe for having dodged such a proverbial bullet – for there had already been enough drama that night!

Ergo, Miles hadn't seen Lana Skye since the verdict of her fate had been declared at _that_ trial. The one he'd left the country soon afterward to try and forget. The one where he had had to detach his mind from his heart, and been forced prosecute his _former boss and ex-paramour_ for murder!

Luckily, thanks to Phoenix, she had been found innocent of that crime, but the same horrible case surrounding the murder of Detective Bruce Goodman had resulted in both Lana's lover and herself being incarcerated, although for lesser crimes.

So this was the first time that Miles had set eyes on the woman who had gotten under his skin, fired up his blood, and relentlessly fueled his lust, in nearly ten years. He supposed she was in her late 30's now, but despite her brief stint in prison, there was no roughness or hardness to her face. Quite the contrary. The years had been most incredibly kind to her, even if life hadn't.

His former paramour still looked so young; still exuded that exuberance of youth. She had that movie star look, not overly tall and willowy, but more like an action star, with perfect muscle definition. The Lana Skye he'd known had been a force to reckon with at work, but after hours, there had been slight sweet shyness to her, hesitation in her body movements, and a softness in her voice.

The onetime Chief Prosecutor now walked with the wisdom of age, and confidence of someone nearly a decade older.

She was the kind of woman that other women loved to hate.

Lana wasn't just flawless in her bone structure, her skin was like silk over glass; marble dusted with light specs of gold, and she radiated an intelligent beauty. Her cream suit had a tailored look that was bold against her lightly tanned skin, but just as clearly as if it'd been yesterday, in his mind's eye, he could easily remember her jeans and a t-shirt, feet up on the couch and painting her nails. Her shoulder-length hair was a lovely whiskey, the color of fallen leaves browned and sleek with the first rain of autumn. He'd always admired how such a tint could play with the light, like peering at the sun through a jar of pine honey, as well as the way her long lashes framed her eyes whenever she'd apprehended a culprit, one cutting glance turning them into stone, and the way her full lips would curl into a mischievous grin every time she did so.

It was inevitable and certain that once you looked at her, you couldn't look away. She kept you still and held your beating heart with one gaze, feeding off you.

But by now, he had learned that appearances were deceiving, especially with Lana. She was a succubus – beautiful, yet dangerous.

He made the mistake of peering into those familiar orbs, all too vividly recalling how alluringly she would blink her eyes from time to time, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like the wings of a butterfly. And every time she did so, his thoughts would always echo the same sentiment they were right now.

_My God, her eyes are simply spellbinding_.

Those unforgettable orbs were now staring back into his, with a mixture of undisguised curiosity and surprise.

The twin jewels were the shade of churning, passionate green that the ocean turned during a storm. That same viridian color brought back every one of life's exquisite bitter and sweet memories, no matter what had happened. Looking into those eyes, he could see it. And he knew that she could as well.

She was right there, only a few feet away but in her understated glamour, she may as well have been on the television or a girl in a pop music video.

It was too much. He needed to shift his sights away.

It was within the next instant, when he had to divert his gaze and direct it down because he knew he needed to stop staring, that the unruliness began.

"Miles!" Franziska's sharp tone shattered his reverie. "What on _earth_ is wrong with you? Are you not going to introduce yourself?"

God's elbow! How could he have been so distracted by his pitiful ogling of another woman that he'd forgotten the indomitable standing by his side, even momentarily?

_Franziska_. Love of his life. His gorgeous fiancée. Mother of his unborn child…who had never met the other woman standing before them till now…yet there he was, gazing upon Lana like the besotted fool she'd once taken him for! He turned his head and found his lover's amethyst gaze narrowed at him in suspicion. That accursed feminine intuition. Somehow, his lover _knew_ something was awry, even if she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

He had to nip things in the bud. _Now_. This could lead to nothing but disaster otherwise. Within the blink of an eye, his unspoken past had come colliding with his present, his future, with the force of rocketing comet.

Miles had zero desire to be a victim of the impact.

"Oh, should I say _reintroduce_ yourself, _Herr_ Edgeworth?" Franziska's piercing, unwavering eyes hadn't moved from his visage. "Because it is _quite_ obvious that the two of you already know each other, _nein?"_

"Indeed, we do, _meine Dame."_ He cleared his throat and dragged together the rags of his composure. "I er, used to be under her."

Four pairs of eyes gawked at him. There was dead silence in the room.

Lana regarded him steadily without even blinking, her expression remaining impassive despite the blunder, although a small muscle twitched under her right eye.

"I mean, _she_ worked on _top_ of me!" Miles amended hastily, hating how at the moment, he sounded every bit the blathering fool _Phoenix Wright_ could often be! He felt his face burning as he realized belatedly just what he'd said.

_"Phrasing!"_ Squawked Kay's voice from the other end of Lang's phone. Everyone nearly jumped at the sound, as they'd forgotten she was still on the line.

The German beauty's eyes narrowed into little slits.

" _Worked_ together…In the office, I mean! _Only_ in the office!" He added desperately. "Ah…to be clear…Lana used to be…my _boss_ , Franziska. She was the Chief Prosecutor in the days of my early career, you see."

"Nice save, Mr. Edgeworth!" Kay praised, her voice ringing loud and clear against the deafening silence of the room.

Mercifully, it was the Yatagarasu's ill-timed, yet somehow still fitting interruption which saved Miles from doing further damage, and allowing Lang to be the first to recover from the tension.

The Agent cleared his throat.

"Um, apologies, Kay, I'd forgotten you were still there. Agent Skye, on the line we have Agent Kay Faraday, who will be assisting us with the behind the scene investigations of this sting operation."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance!" Kay sang cheerfully. "Well sort of, anyway…"

"The pleasure's all mine, Kay," Lana called, before she strode over to Franziska and Lang, extending her hand first to the Wolf Man, while graciously inclining her head towards Miles with a polite, sideways smile.

"How nice to see you again after all this time, Prosecutor Edge- er, _Miles."_

She then turned to Lang before the legist could react – for which he was most grateful, as he still didn't trust himself to speak again.

"And it's good to finally meet _you_ , Agent Lang." Lana's pitch was one of perfected amiable professionalism. "It's about time I got to see the face behind voice giving me instructions over the phone! And _you_ … must be Franziska."

She turned and offered her hand to the stony-faced _Frau_ , who eyed her suspiciously for an uncomfortable moment before extending her own.

"I've heard so much about you."

"That is quite interesting, indeed," Franziska retorted, her smile acidic as she retracted her palm and crossed her arms across her chest. "Considering this is the first time either myself or my _fiancé_ ," she added pointedly. "Have heard a thing about _you!_ Where in the world have you stownlins been located this whole time, Lana?"

The brunette's poise slipped a notch but she quickly recovered.

"Oh, how lovely! The two of _you_ are engaged?" She inquired expectantly, gesturing to Lang and the other woman with a pleasant smile. "Well, congratulations to the happy couple, then!"

"No, not _him!"_ Franziska shot Lana a look of unprecedented disdain. "I was referring to your _former subordinate."_

She reached over and wrapped a possessive hand around the barrister's shoulder, in what appeared to be a loving gesture but he could feel her sharp nails digging into his skin and barely kept from wincing.

"I am betrothed to _Miles."_

The former detective blinked in surprise.

"Oh! My apologies for the mistake," she murmured, dropping her eyes in embarrassment for a moment before raising them to meet her ex's face, her own countenance unreadable. "However, my sincere best wishes to you both."

"Thank you, Lana."

The logic genius forced a smile whilst wishing he was somewhere – _anywhere_! – but there at that moment. Franziska was undoubtedly leaving permanent talon marks in his arm, right through the fabric of his suit, all the while smiling benignly at the other woman.

"Aren't you sweet?" His fiancée purred, in a dangerous voice Miles knew all too well. "But bromide niceties asides, let us return to my question, hmmm? In what clandestine location has Lang been hiding you, Lana?"

She raised an eyebrow at the Agent and Detective Badd.

"Moreover, why have we heard neither hide nor hair about it? At the very least, I _do_ hope the good Detective has been taking good care of you?"

"As I mentioned, Agent Skye has been going through specialized training in preparation for this mission, under _my_ direct orders and Badd's tutelage, for some time now," Lang replied gruffly. "Not that I recall ever needing to run my operational procedures by _you_ , or secure _your_ permissions, _Agent_ Von Karma."

"I never thought you did," Franziska answered smoothly, seemingly un-phased by the cautionary edge to his voice. "Still, as one of your _top Agents_ , as you indicated, it _still_ would have been nice to know who the _bimbo_ working alongside my fiancé was going to be – or at least have notified either of us that there would even _be_ one!"

There was another tense silence.

_God's knuckles!_ Miles thought in disbelief, stunned at his betrothed's behavior. _Meine Dame is truly out for blood! Without even having an inkling of our history, she **already** has it in for poor Lana … I've never even heard of such a case of hate at first sight till now!_

" _Bimbo_?" Lana echoed incredulously, her voice never raising but the warning glint in her eye was unmistakable. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"Um, yeah…on that note, I think I'm going to go now, Agent Lang…" Kay said uncomfortably. " _Smell ya later!_ "

She quickly hung up before he could reply.

"Ah…that _may_ be my fault, Agent Skye!" Lang interjected quickly, obviously anticipating chaos as the two women glared at one another. "When I was explaining your role at Edgeworth's side for this undercover role, I mentioned that you would be the _arm-candy_ companion to his billionaire playboy front. I assure you, she meant to say… _fake bimbo_ of course!"

He shot an irate look towards Franziska.

" _Didn't you_ , Agent Von Karma?"

Franziska's arms remained crossed across her chest and she remained stubbornly silent.

"Lemme get the stylist and hairdresser." Badd was keen to avoid any sort of cat-fight or gainsaying. "I told them to be here for four o'clock and it's five minutes to. They'll need clearance to get into the building, so I'll go intercept them at the main entrance. Franziska, it's been a while since I've seen you. Come along with me so we can do some catching up."

It was clearly an order, not a request.

There were few people, Miles' fiancée included, who didn't feel even the slightest twinge of intimidation of the threatening-looking flatfoot when he turned the heat up. Despite her sulky expression, Franziska wisely obliged and followed the big man out the door.

"A stylist and hairdresser?" Lana queried the moment they'd left. "Whatever for?"

"For your makeovers, of course!" The Agent told them, as if they already should have known. "We ordered the best in the business! You and pretty boy here will be going to a flashy shindig at some shady character's mansion tonight. We don't know if Wa Sing Ku is the head of the smuggling ring or not but he's a notorious recreational pusher of the illegal stuff nonetheless. We're hoping if you rub elbows with the right people, he can steer you towards the head guy behind the contraband we're seeking."

_"Makeovers?"_ She echoed blankly. _"Shindig?"_

_"Pretty boy?"_ Miles arched a well-groomed eyebrow.

"Yes, and they're only going to make you even prettier, _Iron Man_ ," Lang derided with a smirk, before turning to Lana with a more sincere expression. "You see, we've decided we've been going about this all wrong. Instead of trying to go from the _outside_ , trying to get _inside_ information, we've decided to go straight into the lion's den, essentially. Keep you guys you in plain sight of the criminals, so to speak, and mingle amongst them as regular citizens, hopefully gaining their trust so they can hopefully steer us towards the head honcho."

"Just so I understand, we're going to the swanky soirée of some rich bad guy, who probably isn't _the_ big boss, in vain hopes that he'll somehow lead us _to_ the Kingpin?" Lana said slowly. "And you're telling us right now, at the near eleventh hour, that our debut as said billionaire playboy and arm candy will be _tonight?"_

"That's _exactly_ it," Lang affirmed, nodding.

"A little more notice might have been nice," Miles stated dryly, still unamused at the nicknames he'd been bestowed. "This hardly gives me much time to shop for said billionaire playboy ensemble."

He gestured to his magenta suit.

"Shall I assume _this_ won't suffice?"

"I'd probably need a party dress for this ball," Lana chimed in worriedly. "And much like Cinderella, I haven't a thing to wear!"

"Relax, both of you," Lang glanced up at the doorway and saw Badd and Franziska had returned just then, a pretty, plump woman in her late 20's and a slender, slightly older Hispanic man in tow. "Here come your _fairy_ _godmothers_ right now."

"Was that a _gay joke_ , Lang?" The Latino quipped, flashing an impish grin as he walked up to Miles and Lana, dragging his large, wheeled suitcase behind him. "Because I will have you know that it's very stereotypical to assume all clothing stylists are same-sex preferring!"

"Then explain _that_ outfit," Lang snickered, clapping the man on his back, while Miles barely concealed a smirk at the truth behind the words as they assessed their new arrival's ensemble.

Carlos was maybe an inch or so shorter than Miles, and slight of build. He was in his mid to late '30s, with friendly, twinkling hazel-brown behind chic, wire-rim glasses. His dark brown hair was cut in a faux-hawk, and he wore fitted, low riser-jeans with a tight, black graphic T-shirt that sported the baby blue Iron Man circular emblem, with Tony Stark's smug, shades-wearing black and white visage over it. Around the circular emblem read the words, GENIUS, BILLIONAIRE, PLAYBOY, PHILANTHROPIST Club.

"But I'm _not_ gay!" The stylist glanced down at his attire and appeared mortally wounded. "Just … slightly metrosexual!"

_Metrosexual?_ Miles' brow furrowed at the unfamiliar term. _Didn't Butz once tell me that's just a gay guy who can't get laid?_

"Bah, same difference," Lang shrugged, shooting the stylist his most shit-eating grin. "Edgeworth, Agent Skye, meet Carlos Moledo, celebrity stylist to the stars."

"It's nice to meet you," the latest Interpol recruit smiled and extended her hand. "Also, Carlos, Agent Lang, it's after hours. Please call me Lana."

"High Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth," the chess enthusiast extended his own hand but refused to offer the other man the same informal addressing option. He had to attempt to retain his cool _somehow_ , after all. The more formal, the better, as far as he was concerned. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moledo."

_"Miles!"_ Squealed the hairdresser, dropping her suitcase behind her in her haste to rush up to him and wrap her arms around him in an effusive hug. "I can't believe it's _you!_ It's been so long!"

"I beg your pardon?" He struggled to sound polite while attempting to disentangle himself from her suffocating embrace, all too aware of his stony-faced fiancée arching an eyebrow in the background. "Excuse me, but do I know you, _Miss...?"_

The woman pulled away then, looking slightly hurt as she placed lacquered plum hands on her ample hips.

"Miles Edgeworth! You honestly don't remember me? You, me, Phoenix, Larry – we all went to grade school together! It's _me_ , Jilly Baxter!"

_Jilly Baxter?_ He shuffled through his early memories of elementary school. _Ah, yes, the one who went to the senior prom with Butz only to have things end disastrously! I seem to remember Butz blathering about that at some point. And didn't Wright…?_

"Your buddy Phoenix, the kid with the spikes, he had a huge crush on me and used to embarrass himself all the time trying to get my attention?" Jilly prompted, eying him hopefully. "Does that ring a bell?"

_Yes, Wright was as smooth with the ladies back then as he is now!_ Miles chortled inwardly to himself. _How he lucked out and wound up with fragile, ethereal beauty like Miss Fey is **still** beyond me!_

"It's all coming back to me now. I apologize, Miss Baxter." Miles smiled courteously at the dark blonde woman, who although had gotten a tad heavyset over the years, still had the same contagious smile and charming disposition of the girl he'd once known. "I did change schools in the middle of fourth grade, so while it is indeed nothing but pleasant memories, I have of you, it has been far too long, and so it did take an extra moment for them to resurface."

"Well, _I_ know all about _you_ , Mr. Big-Shot Prosecutor," Jilly teased, her green eyes dancing. "My salon may be situated over in Hollywood, but news travels fast in Southern California!"

"I'm flattered." Miles gave a humble smile. He'd had no inkling that law matters were of any interest in the hair community. "So, you work at a salon in Hollywood you say?"

"I'm the owner of a full-service salon and blow-dry bar on Rodeo Drive – it's part of a huge nationwide chain, perhaps you ladies have heard of them?"

Jilly turned to Lana and Franziska.

"The franchise is called _You-Blo-Me?"_

"Sorry, can't say I'm familiar with it," Lana responded with a miraculously straight face, while Franziska merely snorted and muttered something under her breath about foolish Americans with their foolish, undignified names for everything.

" _I_ have!" Carlos piped up, then flushed as everyone turned to look at him. "Everyone and their mothers know about _You-Blo-Me!_ It's a world-famous chain and one of the many businesses owned by the famous Beaugosse family! All the celebrities get blown there!"

_I think this is yet another case of where Kay would yell ' **phrasing**!'_ Miles sniggered to himself. _Also, not doing much to quell the gay stereotype assumption there, my friend!_

"I mean, getting a _blow-out_ …hairstyle… of their _hair_ ," the stylist corrected himself, turning even redder. "In fact, that's how Jilly and I got this gig! I do the styling for Brad Pitt and Jilly has been blowing him since his long hair days…"

_Oh, for the love of the saints! There's no way he's not doing this on purpose!_ Lana and even Franziska bit back a smile at that one. Miles bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snickering. Lang and Badd were only partially successful. _Seriously, **again** with the **phrasing**?!_

"But now that she's doing Angelina Jolie – I mean, _her hair_ , too, the news just traveled over to us, and here we are!" Carlos finished lamely, staring at the ground with reddened cheeks as he, at last, realized their reactions.

"Would you go as far as to say, the carried winds _blew_ about the news about you and Jilly's talents?" Badd deadpanned.

Miles bent over then, quickly masking his guffawing as a cough while Lang flat out howled and the two women stared intently at the carpet, their long hair hiding their faces, although their shoulders were shaking with mirth.

"Old Brad must be quite the _blowhard_ then!" Lang tittered. "I mean, the news of your skills was _blown_ all the way up here!"

"OK, OK, that's enough guys!"

Jilly took pity on the clueless stylist and finally intervened, smothering back one last giggle while she shook Lana's hand.

"I know I didn't introduce myself yet, but I know you must be Lana," she smiled. "I was told you have a single bathroom and free office space in the back, so please follow me. You too, Miles. Come along Carlos! It's time to fire up the glam squad!"

As she led them away, Jilly tossed an amused look over her shoulder at Badd and Lang.

"By the way, Brad's always gotten hefty flack for being such a pretty boy – for the longest time he fought to deny the very _true_ rumors about using _women's_ shampoo," she added wryly. "Ergo, regarding the fact that I was blow … _drying_ Mr. Pitt's then-lustrous, long locks for longer than I have been styling the lovely Ms. Jolie's, I trust that's news you'll keep confidential, please?"

The men nodded imperturbably, then turned to Franziska.

"Well, they'll be gone a few hours, easy!" Badd jibed. "They've got to _somehow_ make Lana look attractive!"

"I'd venture they'll be moiling until at least nightfall," Lang drawled indolently. "After all, they've been tasked with the _strenuous_ job of making Edgeworth look like a pretty boy!"

The men snorted derisively at their shared japing, while Franziska affixed them with her most icy stare, completely unimpressed with their attempted wit.

"And just what are _we_ supposed to do while my fiancé and that _…Schlampe_ ," she spat. "Are off enjoying the pampered celebrity treatment?"

The Agent and Detective wisely opted to ignore the apoplectic connotation behind the words.

"I guess we can go over our action game plan with Kay in the meantime," Lang offered. "Seriously though, _Ane-san,_ that already man-pretty fiancé of yours shouldn't be more than an hour or so. How about we all go out to dinner with him when he's done. I imagine Lana will take longer simply because even looker dames take a dog's age to get gussied up!"

"Humph!" The German woman crossed her arms and scowled darkly. "I know you fools were being facetious about Jilly Baxter having her work cut out for her with Lana, but I imagine making her resemble a _bimbo_ will hardly be much of a stretch!"

The men exchanged exasperated looks.

"What the heck is your problem with our new hire, Franziska?" Badd finally demanded, narrowing his eyes. "She's a good kid. Besides, you told me you and Edgeworth are engaged now and expecting. Who cares that Agent Skye isn't unfortunate-looking? Her not being a member of the Kennel Club was one of the reasons she was hired for this gig! Nothing to get your nose out of joint over. Far as I can tell, she was his boss and nothing else!"

"Don't tell me you're actually _jealous_?" Lang demanded incredulously. "Not when you've got his rock on your hand, his bun in the oven _and_ she's a good decade or so older than you! How much more reassurance do you _need?"_

Franziska flushed and gave a rueful smile at having her childish antics called into glaring light.

"I am being a fool _, ja?"_ She professed guiltily. "But I cannot help being unnerved! Did neither of you see the way Miles _reacted_ to her? He was gazing at her like a _foolish, love-struck_ schoolboy!"

Lang had already started walking ahead of them without bothering to respond. For him, the conversation was officially over.

"Come on, guys." He gestured to the back office. "Let's go call Kay and go over our roles tonight!"

"Listen, to me, Franziska. You're overthinking the whole thing with Edgeworth."

Badd gently took the former prosecutor's arm and pulled her back for a moment.

"Miles's reaction… what you're describing is nothing more than _shock_ , kid," he said kindly, popping his ever-present lollipop into his mouth. "That's _all_ it was. Give the poor guy a break! It's got to be the weirdest odds ever, what with meeting his old boss _and_ childhood friend on the same day, at the same time – across the world!"

_I still couldn't help but notice that he had less of a reaction when he saw his old mate Jilly that he hadn't seen since he was **nine** than he did when he saw his old boss! _Franziska noted ominously. _And Miles best have one **hell** of an explanation for that when I get my hands on him later…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The OC of Jilly Baxter was used with permission by my friend and terrific writer, 6Gun_Sally. She is seen in Sally's Miles Edgeworth fan-fic called Turnabout Honeymoon amongst several others.


	48. Sexy And I Know It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorn in my side.  
> You know that's all you ever were.  
> A bundle of lies.  
> You know that's all that it was worth  
> I should have known better  
> But I trusted you at first.  
> I should have known better  
> But I got what I deserved
> 
> To run away from you  
> Was all that I could do.  
> To run away from you  
> Was all that I could do.
> 
> Thorn in my side.  
> You know that's all you'll ever be.  
> So don't think you know better  
> 'Cause that's what you mean to me  
> I was feeling complicated.  
> I was feeling low.  
> Now every time I think of you  
> I shiver to the bone

_**Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye**_  
 _Interpol Offices, Borginia_ _  
_August 7, 2024, 7:35 PM

Six o'clock had rolled around, then come and gone, but apparently, neither Carlos nor Jilly had deemed Miles and Lana yet ready to make their makeover debut. In the end, Lang and Badd refused to let a pregnant woman go too long without eating, despite Franziska's protests, so at 6:30, after effectively wrapping things up with Kay, the men had taken her out for a quick bite at a local sushi place around the corner.

Both men had been left shamefaced and flustered when she'd loftily informed them that raw fish was on the _forbidden list of things_ an expecting mother could eat! However, rather than waste more time changing restaurants, as she was eager to get back to the office and see Miles' new look, Franziska made do with some chicken teriyaki while the men happily gorged themselves on California rolls, before the trio headed back to the office.

Jilly and Carlos were out of the backroom and grinning expectantly when they came in.

"Oh goody, you guys are just in time for the unveiling!" The blonde told them, a broad smile on her face. She hit the light switch so the room was plunged into slight darkness, then snapped her fingers at Carlos, who immediately turned the audio player on his cell and shone his phone's flashlight towards the closed door to the far back office for a dramatic spotlight effect.

A moment later, with LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" playing in the background, the door opened, and a very grumpy-looking Miles emerged.

Franziska's heart thudded wildly at the sight of him, and she felt an electric jolt, which she was delighted he could still give her five years later. All her life, she'd known how handsome Miles Edgeworth looked in a suit…but _this_ …was something else entirely.

"Here we have Miles Edgeworth, in a custom-designer suit, courtesy of Burberry London."

Jilly sounded positively giddy as she narrated the prosecutor's debut new look while holding up a nearby pen to her lips as a makeshift a microphone, like a fashion commenter at a runaway show.

"Take note that the material is dark grey, and almost, but not quite, black coloring, which deepens his mesmerizing eyes to a gun-metal grey. Made in 100% wool, and woven in Italy. Pick stitched accents and black, branded buttons touch up a dapper two-button, notch-lapel suit crafted from smooth, woven wool. Slim, crisply creased flat-front trousers pair perfectly with the trim-tailored jacket to achieve a dashing, modern profile. The jacket has two-button closure; four-button cuffs; chest pocket; front flap pockets; interior pocket; center vent. The trousers have a zip fly with a hook-and-bar closure; front slant pockets; back button-closure welt pockets… doesn't he look _sexy,_ guys!"

"Alright, enough already!" Miles snapped, turning his head to glare at the hairdresser and huffily folding his arms across his chest, upon which he wore a crisp white dress shirt, a wine-colored vest, and his usual snowy cravat … all topped off by the darkening scowl on his face. "I _abhor_ that word, Miss Baxter, as well as this noise pollution! I demand that you turn off that abominable, inappropriate, horrendous excuse for music, post-haste!"

Startled by the anger in the normally calm prosecutor's voice, Carlos' hasty fingers struggled to find the stop button on his phone's audio player, but in his nervous state, merely succeeded in turning _up_ the volume, so the song's sound was only amplified just as the door opened again, and the former detective stepped out.

****_I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it_  
Show it, show it, show it  
I'm sexy and I know it… 

Not wanting her other client to miss out on making a grand entrance, Jilly quickly grabbed her phone and shone its flashlight like a spotlight on a visibly embarrassed but beyond stunning Lana Skye as she emerged from behind the door while continuing in her narration.

"Next, we have Lana Skye, in a fetching merlot colored celebratory mini dress with shimmering sequins! Sprinkle your celebration and make retro style go modern with sparkle! Its top features a daringly low-cut V-neckline. Note the lustrous sequined accents on the bodice and run up the shoulder straps, which secure and encrust the fitted bodice. A tailored profile produces a curvy fit through bust, waist, and hips, and the sheer overlay with streams of multicolor sequins shimmers atop a solid lining, surrounding her in glints of light. Sheer panels, composed of curvaceous stretch fabric in a contrasting shade, curve down the sides and the length of the mini-dress, and the tapered skirt makes a show-stopping, short dénouement, with a back zipper creating a stunning fit…"

Lana felt her face burn as she felt six sets of eyes staring at her, and she promptly wished she could disappear. She felt so self-conscious she wanted to die. This was ridiculous! She was too old for this! How on earth could _she_ possibly pass for arm-candy, no matter how slutty a dress they put her into and _how_ much makeup was slapped onto her face?

As a young girl she had hardly bothered with make-up, her youth made her beautiful enough. Heads would turn, boys took notice. But now that she had her toes inching towards her fourth decade, things were different. She would never leave the house without a full face on. It was a mask on her aging, she felt safe behind it, and she felt naked without it. It was confidence in a tube, beauty in a bottle, ego in a palette. It allowed her to cling to the illusion of youth a little longer, to pretend she wasn't middle-aged and marching forward. But there was a far cry from her daily pink lip gloss, eyeliner and skin-smoothing foundation, to her _current_ diva look!

She felt like a desperate old cougar on the prowl in her attire, even if her rigorous workouts had admittedly kept her in good enough shape to wear the daring and revealing dress! But neck up, she was still 37-years-old – and probably _looked_ it! She was certain their cover tonight would be blown entirely because although dressed and made up to the nines, she felt like she couldn't be comfortable in doing so – and looking this way was hardly part of her normal repertoire! To top it all off, she felt like an overgrown giant - she was already 5'6" barefoot, but in the four-inch stilettos Jilly had insisted on putting her in, while her legs admittedly looked mile-long, she was now the same height as Miles himself!

Her new look included, but was not limited to: contoured cheekbones with Lord knew how many layers of blusher and bronzer, dark smoky-eye makeup, along with individual false eyelashes, and gleaming, vampy lipstick. Lana had barely recognized herself in the mirror – the black eyeliner around her eyes so heavy and defined it made her teal-green eyes look almost cat-like in appearance! She was sure she looked every bit the ridiculously made up _clown-whore_ she thought she did! In another moment she would insist that the younger, striking, (albeit meaner than piss and vinegar) German woman, who for some unknown reason had taken an intense loathing to her _right out of the gate, to_ take her place tonight at the shindig!

Maybe she could pretend to sprain her ankle due to her towering footwear, and then be put out of her misery?

The lights switched back on, and Lana nervously looked around at her colleagues, dimly noticing that right after she'd come into the room, and the hairdresser had said her spiel, the music had abruptly stopped. The silence surrounded her, crushed her. Her stomach did double loops as she stood, unmoving, at the front of the room, like a scrutinized statue on display.

Franziska's expression was unreadable, and Jilly looked delighted with the fruits of her labor, but it was the males in the room whose gazes were unnerving her. The men were all staring at her in complete silence, and she had no idea what they were thinking!

Desperate for a friendly face, her frantic eyes sought out her former lover's, and she froze, feeling her pulse race wildly at the sight of him, exactly as it had when she'd first set eyes upon him nearly a decade ago.

She'd seen Miles in a suit many times before – almost as many times as she'd seen him _out_ of it, of course, she remembered, blushing slightly. Therefore, she already knew he cleaned up well; had noted the instant she'd laid eyes on him a few hours ago that he'd only gotten even more attractive over the years. He'd swapped his old pinkish uniform with gold tassels, knee breeches, and ascot for a magenta suit with full-length trousers and had traded in the cross gemstone and ascot for a white cravat, which suited him and his more refined, matured look all the better now.

Therefore, she thought she'd seen all the various faces of Miles Edgeworth in their entirety – but the man staring back at her now just looked like a _different_ person, entirely!

The trademarked eyelash-grazing, smoky bangs, along with the rest of his glossy mane, were now coal-black and heavily slicked back into place atop his head, so you could now clearly make out the classically sculpted features, flawless light complexion, and strong, well-defined brows. His facial hair was now even more groomed and looked somewhat darkened, making him appear younger, yet simultaneously more roguish and sophisticated. All in all, Miles resembled a more fair-skinned, younger version of the Tony Stark on Carlos' T-shirt, which she supposed was the exact look they'd been going for!

_Holy Mary, mother of God,_ the blasted man had gotten _even more handsome_ with his makeover, if that were even _possible_ _!_

Lana gulped. There was _no way_ anyone was going to believe that Miles would be with an old hag like her. Never in a million years!

Miles forgot all about his irritation with the music and how much he hated this kind of attention, as well as that godforsaken, inane song! Instead, all his objections died in his throat as he took note of how stunning his ex looked in all her vixenish, arm-candy _glory_.

Her tall frame and slender body were like that of a Victoria secret model, her bare arms toned from obvious hours in the gym, and about her long neck sat a large ruby gemstone necklace, surrounded by small diamonds, nestling just above the tantalizing display of cleavage. Her seraph's ears were pierced by matching diamond and ruby earrings that were concealed by her caramel-colored waves, which Jilly had curled and clipped underneath with invisible bobby pins, so it looked like it was cropped into a posh, chin-length bob, which highlighted her high, knuckle-duster cheekbones.

She was every bit the titillating temptress of any man's fantasy. A ravishing, breath-taking, _goddess_.

He felt his mouth go dry as his eyes met her exquisitely made-up ones, and expected at any moment for her to come towards him with her head thrown back in that same confident, sexy strut she'd initially walked in with, the one that told the world, "I'm beautiful and I know it."

Instead, Lana remained completely immobile at the front of the room, and unfathomably, what he saw was a genuine flicker of concern on her symmetrical features, rather than the glee of having a room full of admiring male _and_ female gawkers!

Miles cleared his throat, struggling to find the words to ease the tension in the room, and he fervently wished he hadn't asked for the music to be turned off. No doubt it would mask the sudden loud, erratic beating of his heart, which he was sure they could all hear!

"Lana," he began.

"Miles," she started, at the same time.

They both chuckled nervously, then tried again.

"You look stunning," he told her, at the simultaneous moment that she blurted out, "You really _do_ look sexy!"

Miles felt himself blush at the compliment, forgetting she'd used the one word he had a distinct aversion to, while his spoken ones brought a deep curve on her lips, making the world stop around her. It was a smile that brought back a million memories in a split second; the precious dimple that made his heart skip a beat, even though he still saw some apprehension in her eyes.

_She has a smile that makes you feel happy about being alive; just a bit more human._

For one brief, insane moment, he wanted to reach out and touch her lips, plump and wet-looking and delectably ruby even in the fading light of the evening…if only to assure her that all was fine and that she looked absolutely perfect.

Then he remembered that he was engaged now, that his memories of Lana were from another lifetime ago and that these fleeting thoughts of temporary insanity were beyond ridiculous and inappropriate, and he mentally lambasted himself for his moment of craziness and weakness. The adage was true after all.

_Old feelings die hard indeed._

"My _Liebling_ _is quite the sexy_ _sight to behold, indeed,"_ Franziska purred, sauntering over and effectively breaking the momentary spell between them. "How _astute_ of you to notice!"

The clear marking of her territory with her next gesture was impossible to miss; she strolled right up to her fiancé and, disregarding their longtime established rule about professional conduct betwixt them during working hours, and placed a proprietary kiss on his cheek while she flashed an icy look at the brunette.

"However, it is hardly apropos for _you_ to say as much, _nein?_ You might have missed the memo, but Miles duly castigated poor Miss Baxter for use of that very word just before your arrival, Agent Skye."

"Yeah, that's right, you _did_ , Miles." Jilly squizzed at him in confusion. "Number one, though, Ms. Von Karma, you're marrying a hunky piece of man meat, so unless you want to claw the eyes out of every female on earth, I suggest you get _used_ to them noticing! After all, Lana was just admiring our hard work! But number two, Miles, seriously, _what is up_ with you and your hate-on for that word, anyway?"

"There's no particular reason per se." Miles cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I simply find it to be overly provocative and … unnecessary."

_Even if it's true?_ Lana wondered but wisely kept her thoughts to herself. The German woman was _palpably_ the crazy, jealous, possessive sort that wouldn't hesitate to claw your eyes out for giving her man even a second glance! She had zero desire to show up at the party bearing the markings of either the fingernails nor the whip that Franziska visibly sported on her holster, which she'd undoubtedly not hesitate to use if provoked!

Such insecurity was utterly _ridiculous_ _,_ though! Aside from being breathtakingly ravishing with her satiny silvery hair and striking, flawless face and figure, Miles' fiancée was sporting a rock you could have skated on!

Therefore, she couldn't possibly see _Lana_ as a threat … _could_ she?

Assuming, of course, the _Frau_ even _knew_ of the brunette's sordid past with Miles … surely he wasn't a big enough _fopdoodle_ to have actually informed her… or _was_ he?

In any case, aside from that one tongue-slip just now, the anterior Chief Prosecutor hadn't acted inappropriately towards Miles whatsoever. Ergo the German woman's unprecedented, churlish behavior was simply uncalled for!

After all, Lana's iniquitous history with Miles was long gone. Finished. Completely over. Deader than the Macarena.

_Wasn't it?_

Lana couldn't help but question her own sanity as she tried to ascertain the distinction between wishful thinking versus actuality. Was it possible, even _remotely_ , that her former paramour still carried a torch for an aging cougar like _her_ after all this time, when he had this world-class beauty at his side? _Was_ it mere fanciful desire that'd made her envision something in his eyes those few times when he'd looked at her? Had she only imagined that he'd gazed at her in such a way that it made her start wondering if there was a part of _her_ which never fully gotten over _Miles_ either? That same part of her which was now deliberating about whether or not she'd made a grave mistake with her decision nine years ago…

Her musings were interrupted as Franziska broke the silence then.

"You are far too modest, Miles," his fiancée admonished lightly, smiling admiringly at him. "Would you give _me_ a tongue lashing as well if I noted how _sexy_ my billionaire playboy looks right now?"

Miles cringed but forced himself to smile for her benefit.

"Truly, _meine Dame_ , I would prefer, if at all, the words _handsome_ or _debonair_ if anything."

"That was _before_ you morphed into Tony Stark," Badd spoke up, crossing his arms across his broad chest and smirking. "Pink suit Edgeworth gets called _pretty boy_ , or handsome but the newly pimping Iron Man vibe just oozes… _sexiness_."

"Indeed, _oh sexy_ _one_ , it truly does," Lang grinned, purposely ignoring Miles' flinching at the word. "What I want to know is how this transformation of _yours_ took _three hours_ to complete? With the enchanting Lana, I understand good things take time! But _you_ already had the facial hair – how long could it _possibly_ have taken to dye your hair and slap some gel on it?"

"I'll have you know that I was also subjected to the indignities of buffed, manicured, and _plucked_ to within an inch of my life, in parts of my body that I didn't even _realize_ _could or should_ have had hair removed from them!" Miles retorted loftily. "No doubt, Lang, that if dealt with the task of taming _your_ unruly tufts, poor Jilly would have up and quit, retiring her shears for life rather than take on the burden of _such a Herculean task_!"

" _Not so fast!_ Why are you throwing shade at my locks, pretty boy?" Lang glowered, running a self-conscious hand through his wild, camel-colored mane. "Do _I_ ever make fun of _your_ hair?"

"You mean how you think Miles normally looks like he's got a giant, flapping _bird_ on his head?" Badd interjected, pulling his sucker out of his mouth and flashing the Wolf Man a shit-eating grin. "No, you don't mock pretty boy about that at all! Not to his _face_ , anyway…"

Miles glared at the two men.

Sensing a squabble about to break out, and having no desire to be caught in the crossfire, Carlos hastily intervened.

"Frankly, dressing Mr. Edgeworth and Jilly dyeing and styling his hair took just a little over an hour," he informed them. "As for the manicuring, hair removal and tweezing all that only took another half hour in total."

"Then _Was in Gottes Namen_ were you doing with my Miles for the other two hours during your slower than a snail on a treadmill makeover, you foolish fool?" Franziska demanded indignantly. "If you were done within an hour or so as you claim, he could have joined us for dinner!"

"To be honest…" Carlos smiled sheepishly. "The rest of the time was spent playing tug of war with Mr. Edgeworth over his fluttering neckwear! He _refused_ to relinquish the darn thing!"

"I am _not_ taking off my cravat!" Miles insisted staunchly, crossing his arms and staring daggers at the stylist. "I am putting my foot down on this one! Case closed!"

Carlos groaned.

"Will one of you _please_ reason with him and inform him that ruffly frills do _not_ go with this designer ensemble?"

Everyone in the room fell silent.

"I don't know…" Lang began skeptically. "Edgeworth _is_ awfully fond of that fluttery napkin thing."

_"Hold it!"_ Miles shot him a withering look. "My cravat is neither fluttery nor a napkin of any sort!"

"Except for that _one-time,_ _if you wish to be technical,"_ Franziska reminded him mischievously. "When Kay used it as a _Kleenex_ _to blow her …"_

Her fiancé cut her off with a glare.

"I told you to _never_ speak of that again!"

"He insists it's part of who he is," Badd added doubtfully. "I don't know, Moledo, it may be cravat or bust!"

"He's _got_ to lose that thing!" Carlos insisted. "The suit's a _Burberry London_ for crying out loud!"

"Jesus Christ jogging on a swimming pool!"

Lana let out a long sigh as she deftly strode over to Miles then. Completely catching him off guard, she stood in front of him, bending over and studying something intently on his chest while giving him the chance to catch a whiff of her unforgettable lavender perfume.

"Hey, Miles, what's that spot on your shirt? It looks like Jilly glopped some gel onto it by mistake!"

"What in the name of God's elbow –" Alarmed, the legist peered down at the phantom stain, just as Lana took advantage of his split-second distraction to deftly remove the offending cravat from his neck, clench it into her fist, and toss it to the astonished stylist.

"Keep it safe," she instructed Carlos with a smirk. "I assure you that he'll want that back tonight."

" _Objection_ , Lana!" Miles narrowed his eyes at his undercover partner while feeling concurrently stunned, impressed, and wounded by her duplicity. "That was most unscrupulous, catching me unawares in such a manner!"

"I just took a page out of the field training manual, _Interpol Agent Tactics 101_ ," she winked, undaunted by his ire. "Take advantage of _any_ diversions. Failing that, have the lightning-quick reflexes to _make one of your own_!"

"You see that? Agent Skye's rearing to go and hit the ground running!" Lang bragged, flashing Lana a look of admiration. "I _knew_ she'd be ace at this!"

"Of course!" Badd boasted shamelessly. "She was trained by the _best_ , after all!"

"If you all are done patting yourselves on the back now," the fake Tony Stark said dryly. "There is still the matter that Lana and I have spent the last few hours in captivity and are now _completely_ famished. Is it possible to get some food into us before the festivities tonight?"

"We already ate though," Lang told him. "At the Japanese place down the street."

"Fine! Then you can watch _me_ eat!" Miles declared grumpily, forlornly touching the empty spot on his neck where his cravat normally lay. "God's spleen, I feel so naked without my prized accessory!"

"I second the motion of food being a good idea," Lana agreed. "No doubt there will be copious amounts of alcohol there and I'm a complete lightweight. Probably best if I don't drink on an empty stomach!"

"OK fine…" Lang glanced at his watch. "It's 8:00 now, the party doesn't start till 10:00. We can all duck into that tavern a few blocks down for some grub before we send you guys off to the jamboree. That gives us some time to brief you on the details for tonight, as well."

He smiled at Carlos and Jilly.

"I'm sure our hardworking glam squad here isn't opposed to getting something into them, either."

"I'm starved," Jilly admitted.

"Me too," said Carlos.

"OK, everyone, to The Brass Monkey!" Badd declared. "Lang, I can grab Carlos and Jilly in my car, if you don't mind taking Lana."

"I'll come with Miles," Franziska stated. "I'd like to steal a few moments with my fiancé before he heads off for the night."

"Here, Edgeworth." Lang tossed him a set of keys. "May as well give you access to your ride for the night now."

Miles looked down at the emblem, a slow smile of appreciation forming on his lips.

"A Lamborghini, Lang? I'm impressed, I'll admit it."

"You can't be a billionaire playboy showing up to a drug lord's mansion in a Chevy," Lang shrugged. "Enjoy your temporary loaner, courtesy of Interpol. It's the red one out back."

As they began to file out, Franziska took her fiancé's hand and squeezed it.

"What a privilege! I get to be the first one to step out with you in your new makeover mode. This will be the most fun, to say the least."

"Verily," he grinned, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the lips as they walked out the door. "I do relish the idea of going for fish and chips with my fiancée in style."

"There is just one small thing I need to ask you, _Liebling_ …" Franziska began sweetly as they headed towards the flashy sports car. "Lest I go out of my mind from the sheer force of my burning curiosity."

"What's that, _meine Dame?"_ Miles asked absently as he put on his seat-belt.

" _Was zum Teufel_ is the true story with you and that overly made-up harlot, _Herr_ Edgeworth?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eurythmics – Thorn in My Side


	49. A Bullet Dodged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "She didn't love easily; it took a lot for her to fall. But when she did love, it was with such an intensity it could be felt from a mile away. It shook the earth and made the ocean roar. And when he felt it, it made him question if he'd ever known love at all."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Interpol Office Parking Lot, Borginia_  
August 7, 2024, 8:00 PM

Miles was supremely grateful he hadn't been driving the six-digit valued sportscar when his fiancée had made her not-so-innocent inquiry; he'd jolted so sharply upon hearing the $64,000 question that it would have ensued an unmitigated disaster, had they actually been moving!

He shouldn't have been caught so off-guard, though. Realistically, he _should_ have seen the query as inescapably imminent. After all, when had Franziska Von Karma _ever_ let sleeping dogs lie?! Taking a deep breath, he rapidly ran through his options in this most undesirable scenario that had been thrust upon him.

For the purpose of his legal career, he had agreed to undercover investigations posing as a billionaire playboy. Subsequently, for a variety of reasons that were irrelevant now – but had seemed noble at the time! – he'd opted not to advise his other half about it. Now, as some sort of karmic comeuppance for this gross oversight in judgment, (or as some _other_ form of cosmic retribution for sins he was _still_ unaware of!), he had to feign being the _present-day_ _boyfriend_ of his _ex-girlfriend_. No, scratch that – his _former illicit lover_ _!_

All the while, he was also supposed to remain cool, calm, and collected in the face of his _actual_ _current,_ ever-probing, slightly possessive, and now _hormonal_ lover/future wife. Otherwise known as the _Frau_ who had _zero inklings_ that his current _faux_ _swain_ _,_ in another lifetime, had once been his _real-life_ one!

It all sounded like something out of a badly contrived romantic comedy or soap-opera! However, the potential consequences of facing his fiancée's wrath if she ever caught wind of his unintentional deception was more like the scenario from a B-rated _horror_ movie – one where _Miles_ would be the sole casualty!

He blenched at the notion.

_God's teeth! I know that matchless Von Karma fury made her whip the normally unbreakable Wright into unconsciousness a few years back but is_ _it possible to be whipped… **to death**_ **?**

Moreover, since Franziska was with child and had more raging hormones than an 18-year-old adolescent boy, and hence, wasn't always fully in control of her senses, was it plausible that a jury of sympathetic women would find her not guilty of murdering her betrothed on some sort of technicality, like temporary insanity? _Quite possibly_! It would be so cruelly unjust _should_ Miles became a slain homicide victim over this whole shambolic mess!

_After all, just what, exactly, am I guilty of, anyway? Not declaring **every single one**_ _of my past sexual dalliances to my lover – a topic which has never been brought up as even remotely relevant up until now? That would be so unfair! After all, withholding the truth isn't_ _the same as lying! Not **technically** **,** anyway…_

Miles was disgusted with himself. Lord help him, his attempted rationalizing made him seem no better than every dishonest, corrupt bastard lawyer stereotype he'd ever known! No, _worse_ than that!

_Goddammit, I'm sound as bad as_ **_Larry Butz_** _ **!**_

Taking a deep breath, the prosecutor carefully composed his features before plastering on his biggest, brightest, and most winsome smile as he then turned to face his fiancé, whose lovely visage was the picture of innocence, patience, and simple curiosity.

However, having known Franziska most of her life, he could make out the not quite hidden steely glint in her eyes. The one which clearly said: _If you dare_ _lie to me, you are a dead man walking, Miles Edgeworth!_

"I take it by the colorful description of that inquiry, _meine Dame,"_ he replied lightly, all the while trying to refrain from breaking out into the sweat threatening to once again form upon his brow. "That the _overly made-up harlot_ in question you are referring to is Agent Skye?"

"It is after hours, _Liebling_ ," Franziska reminded him, her cadence dripping with honey. "I do believe she invited us to call her _Lana_ _."_

Abruptly, her tone took on a more cutting edge.

"Do not _dare_ attempt to play the role of the proverbial fool or worse, try to play _me_ as one, Miles! I am neither blind _nor_ daft and will not allow you to treat me as such!"

"Franziska, I swear I am doing no such thing!" He protested weakly. "You know that I respect you and value your intelligence and have never tried to insult it as such…"

"Then tell me why you were ogling _that Schlampe_ like a besotted fool the whole night – while _within my presence!_ – and were foolish enough to think I would not notice such disrespectful actions?" Franziska demanded. "Are you honestly going to try to deny the fact that you have been – _verdammt_ what is that vulgar term the foolish Larry Butz uses? – _eye-banging_ Lana the entire night?!"

"I believe you're confusing my unprecedented astonishment at seeing my former superior for the first time in a dog's age as something more than it was, _meine Dame_."

"Even if I _did_ decide to let you get away with that pitiful, weak excuse first time around – which I shall _not_ , by the way– it nonetheless does nothing to excuse your foolish actions when you saw Lana after her makeover!" The German woman's lip curled in disgust. "The way your tongue was practically hanging out of your lecherous mouth was identical to the manner of _Pess_ when she's begging for table scraps!"

"Verily, I say! You win, Franziska!" Miles raised his hands in mock surrender as he finally came to the closest possible admission of veracity at this point which hopefully wouldn't get him castrated. "I must profess that a decade ago, as a young prosecutor, I harbored _jugendliche Zuneigung_ for Agent Skye."

Admitting to having juvenile affections for his then-boss _was_ the truth, after all – albeit a _very_ condensed version of it!

"Ergo, all this time later, despite being a happily committed man, I will confess to being guilty of male approbation, as well as being genuinely taken aback at what a fine makeover job my childhood mate, Jilly, did at getting Lana to appear so … well preserved."

_I'm just sorry that **you** noticed **me** noticing **her** as such!_

"Humph! So be it, then. I imagine I cannot fault you for noticing Lana's feminine wiles due to the fanciful fleetings of an old crush having resurfaced – not when it was _so very long ago_ _._ " Franziska eyed him suspiciously. "That is _all_ this was then? Your foolish inability to hide your _visibly blatant admiration_ of Jilly's beautification talents … and _naught_ else?"

"Lana is a comely lady, Franziska." Miles exhaled heavily, closing his eyes and accepting the fact that he was probably doomed. "Jilly did a splendid job with preparing her for the role tonight. To suggest otherwise is to spurn the valiant efforts of an old friend and I _do reckon_ you're surely bigger than _that_ – _aren't_ you?"

_Taking that particular high road attempt with my last comment was a long shot, but it was worth a try!_

He could hear the gears in the former prosecutor's mind turning as she mulled over his words, and knew without a doubt, that he had her there. _She_ knew it as well as he did, even before she replied.

"Very well, Miles. Yes, your friend did a miraculously fine job in making Lana look fetching," she acquiesced grudgingly. "You certainly were not the only one guilty of salivating. Forget _drooling_ – Carlos was _downright frothing_ at the mouth, Badd's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and the habitually terse Lang referred to her as _enchanting_ _!_ So, I suppose you are right. For an old _Dame_ … I _am a big enough person to_ concede Lana Skye is not _a complete hässliches Entlein_."

Miles was too relieved at the slight reprieve to even snicker at the lofty dispensation of Franziska so generously decreeing that his ex was no _ugly duckling!_ Instead, he opened his eyes and raised a brow in her direction.

"If my complimenting, or acknowledging a pulchritudinous female in your presence offended you in any way, Franziska, I sincerely apologize. However, if _a lingering gander_ at another woman is my worst offense towards you after five years, have you _really_ fared so badly in the fiancé department?"

It was like a game of chess. Check and mate. Miles had won.

_Ich kriege so eine Krawatte!_ Franziska grumbled to herself as she grumpily folded her arms across her chest and reluctantly admitted there was some actual validity to his words, although hating the way he'd managed to turn things around! _That manipulative…methodical…logical…Grrr! Gott verdammt,_ w _hy did I agree to marry a genius lawyer?_ _I blame that mother of all fools, Phoenix Wright, for this! His foolish ways and influences have rubbed off on my fiancé in more ways than one!_

Her lover was still regarding her with that arched brow, obviously waiting for a reply to his not-so-rhetorical question.

"No, Miles, I fathom I _have not_ done too badly in the fiancé department if _this_ is the worst thing that I can fault you with thus far," Franziska finally acknowledged with a wry smile. "I know I am being silly, getting so jealous over something so foolish, but I _am_ in the family way and just cannot help feeling just feeling a little vulnerable! While I am not showing yet, I _will_ be soon!"

Earnest silver orbs met bewildered steel ones.

"Put yourself in my position! Here is this attractive _Frau_ who will be wearing slinky, revealing dresses –which _I_ will no longer be able to wear anymore! – whilst clinging to your side! As for _me_ …by comparison, I shall soon resemble _a hippo with a gland problem!"_

Miles let out a shout of laughter then, partially from relief, and partially because at that moment, he truly realized that he would never love any other woman for the rest of his days, the way he did Franziska Von Karma.

_Never disregard a person who loves you, cares for you, and misses you. Because one day you might wake up from your sleep and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars. I shall never be such a foolish fool. Never **again.**_

He turned towards her then, cupping her face in his hands and smiling lovingly at her.

_The most beautiful part of loving a guarded girl is this: When she lets you in, it's not because she needs you. She stopped needing people a long time ago. It's because she wants you. And that – that is the purest love of all._

" _Meine Dame_ , your body may swell as the months go past but it's because you're having _my_ baby." He stroked her cheek with his thumb as a tear rolled out of her eye. "As the glowing, beatific woman carrying our child, there could never be a more beautiful sight to behold than that, in my eyes, _ever_. I mean that! Even if a parade of lingerie models were to prance before my eyes, I may be guilty of _glancing_ in that direction…but that would only stray my _attention_ for a fleeting second. My mind, my heart, my _soul_ … will remain with you. For now, and for always."

Another tear leaked out of Franziska's eye at his poignant words.

" _Ich liebe dich_ , Miles Edgeworth."

"I love you too, _meine Dame_." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Shall we get going now?"

"Yes, of course." She flashed him a radiant smile. "But there is one more thing I'm wondering about, Miles."

"What's that?" He turned the key in the ignition and carefully pulled out of the parking lot.

_"Was in aller Welt_ is with you and this aversion to the word _sexy_?" She exclaimed, giggling. "I know your understandable aversions to earthquakes and elevators by why to such a harmless little word? It is so unlike you be _this_ _particular level of_ neurotic!"

"It's a _long_ story…" Miles sighed, casting her a sideways look. "And while it's not _mine_ to tell, it just as surely did affect me as if it _had_ happened to _me_ …"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Ich kriege so eine Krawatte!  
> (L) I get such a tie!  
> As in the formal item you would wear around your neck. And it comes from the pressure you feel in your throat when you get so angry you could scream.  
> (F) saying when finding something makes you really angry.
> 
> Was in aller Welt – what in the world


	50. DILF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The most difficult part of dating as a single parent is deciding how much risk your own child's heart is worth."

**_Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright_** **  
** _Wright Talent Agency_  
October 14, 2019, 4:00 PM

"It was _so_ hot today, Daddy!" Trucy exclaimed as she barged into the office. She fanned herself dramatically with her magician's hat as she took off her cape and hung it up on the hat rack by the front door. "The school bus driver says this is what they call _Indian_ summer!"

"It's at least 102 degrees," her father agreed, taking a swig of his cold bottle of grape juice and leaning closer to the whirring fan perched on the coffee table. "And _still_ a scorcher, even this late in the day! Definitely a sizzler for sure!"

"I bet you could fry an egg by cracking it on the sidewalk!"

_Quite possibly._

Phoenix took off his beanie and fanned himself with it. He was seated on the sofa, having forsaken his usual sweatsuit in lieu of a tank top and shorts, but as neither the office nor upstairs apartment had air conditioning (that cost _extra_!) he had few other ways of keeping cool, aside from lounging in the tub for a cold bath for another half hour…which he'd already done that day, _twice_!

For once the sub-zero temperatures at The Borscht Bowl would have been welcome, but he didn't work that night, so there appeared to be no visible relief in sight. He'd already gone through a half box of popsicles! He got up off the couch and presented his daughter with some cheese and crackers he'd prepared for her after school snack. Normally he'd have told her to go eat upstairs in the kitchen, but it was _even hotter_ up there!

"Do you work tonight, Truce?"

He smiled indulgently as she dug in hungrily into her fare. Gosh, the girl could _eat!_ Thankfully, despite his current plight and diminished funds, he was still able to keep her healthy appetite fed. Aside from those generous but anonymous cash donations that kept coming in the mail intermittently, he was also actually making a couple of extra dollars in tips for his piano playing, _as well as_ his poker playing as of late. Who would have ever known that his mastering of show tunes would have turned out to be semi _lucrative_?

She shook her head as she chugged down a whole bottle of apple juice.

"Nope, not tonight. That means it's just you and me then, Daddy! What do you want to do?"

The pianist thoughtfully put a finger to his chin. "Hmmm, let me think…"

" _You_ decide! In the meantime, you wanna hear what happened to me at school today?"

"Of course, baby girl." He reached for his ever-present bottle. "Why don't you tell me a little about your day while I brainstorm a way we can beat this heat?"

"First, I have a question then. Daddy, what's a DILF?"

Phoenix had just taken a swig of juice then and nearly choked at the words.

"Say _what_?!" He gawped at his daughter in disbelief.

_Good Lord, please tell me I didn't hear her right…_

"A _DILF?_ I never heard of that word before so I thought maybe you could tell me?"

_Ngh! So I did hear her right?! Sweet Jesus, of all the times for my hearing not to be failing me …_

" _What_!? _Where…how_ in the world did you hear _that_ word, Trucy?!"

"Well, because I heard my teacher, Miss Hickey… you know, you met her last week at parent/teacher night?"

"Uh-huh…" he replied slowly. "What about her?"

He barely repressed a shudder at the memory of the shapely, overly tanned, titian-haired _cougar_ who'd had _zero_ respect to his personal boundaries. She'd continuously kept in _way_ too close proximity to him during the entire uncomfortable evening when the "very single" barracuda had seemed more interested in discussing his _lack of wedding band_ than his daughter's academic prowess! She'd also been _much_ too keen on lasciviously bending over in her slightly too-low cut blouse repeatedly before his embarrassed eyes, while repetitively letting him know that her first name was _Ivana_.

"Anyway, I had to come back inside to use the bathroom during recess, and I heard Miss Hickey talking to the music teacher, Miss Wigglywomp today in the staff lounge, and they were talking about some of the parents from that night. I heard Miss Hickey say that I was lucky to have a daddy who was such a total _DILF_ and that you shouldn't bother wearing that baggy sweatshirt around, because it wasn't fooling _anyone_ about what kind of _sexy_ lay beneath!"

The hobo's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Undaunted, his daughter continued in her rehashing.

"…And then she described your _bedroom blue eyes_ – what does that mean Daddy? That you look sleepy?"

_Gah!_

Phoenix couldn't have answered that question at that moment if his _life_ had depended on it! Shrugging at his continued abashed silence, Trucy went on.

"So then Miss Wigglywomp said based on that _sexy DILF_ description, _she_ wouldn't mind having a _wriggly romp_ with you either, whatever _that_ means…"

Phoenix flat out choked on his grape juice this time, coughing so hard Trucy had to come and thump him on the back. He gasped a few times, thinking asphyxiation on his favorite drink was _preferable_ to having this conversation with his 8-year-old! He couldn't _believe_ the inappropriate conduct his daughter's educational advisers carried themselves in and had half a mind to actually complain to the school board about this!

If this _proceeding conversation_ right now didn't make him _die of embarrassment_ first!

Having seen the raunchy comedy classic film, _American Pie_ , he, of course, knew what the term MILF meant, but up until that moment, he'd had no idea that the _male_ counterpart to _Mother I'd Love to Fuck_ had become so mainstream!

Or that it would _ever_ be used in conjunction with _him_ in _any way, shape or form_!

"Daddy?" Trucy was looking at him expectantly once she'd ascertained he wasn't going to choke to death. "What does _DILF_ mean? It is the same thing as _sexy_? My friend Gouda Berger says that sexy means –"

"It um, means, Daddy I'll Love Forever!" Phoenix improvised on the spot, hoping his daughter would now cease this _beyond_ disturbing conversation. "Yeah… _that's_ it!"

"Oh, that's so cool! It's _so_ nice, that my teacher can tell what a loving Daddy I have, and tells people that he is a DILF!" Trucy smiled brightly. "I'm going to tell all my friends at school tomorrow that my Daddy is a DILF!"

"Er…maybe you shouldn't do that, Truce!" He said quickly. Trucy eyed him quizzically, and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, it would sound like Miss Hickey only says such, ah, nice _things_ about _me_ and not about the other kid's mommies and daddies. And that wouldn't be good, because then they would all be sad…and feel, ah, _left out_ , you know what I mean?"

"Hmm, that's true," the child mused thoughtfully. "I wouldn't want to make any of the boys and girls in the class feel bad."

"That's my baby girl!" He sighed in relief and lifted her up into his arms, hugging her tightly.

"Gouda says _sexy_ means you have muscles!" The magician informed him, poking her tiny finger into his firm bare shoulder. "I don't understand why muscles make you sexy though! I think they look weird and funny and _lumpy_!"

The poker champ drew back and stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Don't worry, you're not so bad! I remember my other daddy was much bigger and _lumpier_ than _you_ are Daddy!" Trucy giggled, not noticing the pink tinge forming in Phoenix's cheeks. "But lately, I've noticed that _your_ lumps have gotten bigger since the springtime – Miss Hickey is right, you _can_ still see the outline of your lumps even in your sweatshirt, and I can see them _now_ even more!" She poked at his bicep again and grinned impishly. "Does that mean you've been trying to be _more_ sexy, Daddy?"

_No! Becoming allegedly sexier is just a side effect from the long daytime jogs, free weights and calisthenics I've been doing to burn off the steam I've got pent up from having a beautiful girlfriend who lives two hours away that I'm not allowed to see! This, consequently, also means that I have not been able to make love to said siren for the past five months – phone and Skype sex notwithstanding!_

" _Ngh_!" Phoenix croaked, having no idea how to answer such a question.

"It's OK if you want to be sexy, Daddy!" Trucy grinned. "Ladies like muscles and muscles are sexy and if they think you look sexy…"

_For the love of God, Truce, stop saying the word sexy! I never want to hear that word ever again, especially coming from you, for the rest of my life!_

"Then that means you can get me a new mommy!" She finished happily. "A new Mommy for my sexy Daddy!"

That did it! Phoenix shot up from the couch, nearly knocking Trucy to the ground in his haste. He fanned his face with his hand, which felt as if it were on fire, in spite of the beads of sweat rolling off his temples! He desperately needed to cool down, and get the _hell_ away from the apartment – and this conversation – _pronto_!

Of course, the law, and Children's Services, dictated that he _really_ should take his eight-year-old _with him_!

Maybe a cool dunk would distract the little chatterbox?

_Perfect!_

"Get your swimsuit, Truce!" Phoenix announced. "We're going to the pool!"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright_**  
 _Community Pool_  
October 14, 2019, 4:35 PM

Luckily, the YMCA was only a few blocks away, and the Olympic-sized outdoor pool was free for local use, so Phoenix figured a dip would be just what the doctor ordered to beat the heat and rinse away the stigma of general _ookiness_ Trucy's _sexy DILF_ revelations had given him!

It was still blazingly hot outside, and there were lifeguards on duty until 7:00 that night when it would switch to adult-only swim time. Trucy was a good swimmer and could move about like a little fish in her adorable pink swimsuit throughout both the deep and shallow areas without him needing to worry too much. He pulled up a lounge chair near the poolside underneath a tree, and lay back in the shade, enjoying the slight breeze.

The place was packed, with tons of parents and their kids splashing in the water, some of whom Phoenix recognized from Trucy's class. She immediately spotted her friends Gouda and Jinxie, so he knew he could just sit back and relax for a bit, since she was not alone in the water, while still being able to keep an eye on his daughter.

"Daddy!" Trucy called after a while. "Aren't you going to come in? The water's great!"

Phoenix looked around self-consciously. While there were plenty of middle-aged and older men and women at the pool, there really weren't any other men in his demographic there at all. And after the bizarre conversation he and Trucy had had earlier, he really didn't want to draw much attention to himself!

"Um, I'm OK Truce, you enjoy yourself!"

"Daddy, _please_!" She begged, looking at him with pleading eyes. "I want to play chicken against Gouda and her daddy and Jinxie can't hold me up on her shoulders!"

Phoenix sighed in defeat. He'd _never_ been able to say no to females with imploring _puppy dog eyes_!

Kicking off his sandals and yanking off his hat, he padded unenthusiastically down the stairs into the pool, smiling politely at the pretty, bronze, copper-haired lifeguard on duty, who sat up and suddenly appeared _much_ more interested in the on-goings in the water as he walked past her and up to Trucy's group.

"Excuse me, Sir!" She called. "But appropriate attire and regulations must be followed in this pool! Please remove your shirt if you're going to be in the water!"

"Um, is it really _that_ big a deal if I keep it on?" Phoenix asked awkwardly, feeling a blush creeping over his face and neck as Trucy, Jinxie, Gouda, and her father, a slightly rotund, red-faced man with a comb-over, all stared at him.

"It's a health and safety regulation, Sir," the lifeguard stated firmly, extending her hand to take the clothing from him. Then she tilted her head to the side and gave him a dazzling smile. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on your shirt for you!"

"Um…thanks but…" Phoenix gripped the bottom edge of his shirt uncertainly.

"You don't have anything I haven't seen before!" She joked, winking. "But I also don't think you have anything to be self-conscious about either, from what _I_ can see!"

"Hey Trucy, is your Daddy too _chicken_ to _play_ chicken with me and my Daddy?" Gouda taunted. "That's OK, you'd only lose anyway! Because _my_ Daddy is taller than _your_ Daddy anyway, _and_ he's _stronger_ too!"

"My Daddy isn't a chicken!" Trucy declared indignantly, scowling at the freckle-faced red-headed girl. "He's _just_ as strong as your Daddy! And your Daddy may be taller, but _my_ Daddy is way sexier than _your_ Daddy!"

"Truce!" Phoenix turned beet-red. "Don't say things like that! It's not… nice!"

The lifeguard was leaning forward in her chair now, amusement on her tanned face as she listened to the exchange.

"But it's _true_!" Trucy sulked. "Gouda told me muscles are sexy! And _you_ have muscles, Daddy! More than _her_ Daddy does! Prove to her you're not a chicken!"

It was with this mortifying prompt that the now scarlet-faced Phoenix reluctantly took off his top and tossed it to the appreciative-eyed lifeguard, who was grinning broadly at him as she extended her hand for it.

"Wow, your Daddy _does_ have muscles!" Jinxie marveled. " _My_ Daddy's are bigger, but that's only because he's a wrestler!" She smiled reassuringly at Phoenix. "Don't worry, Mr. Wright! You're still sexy though!"

Phoenix gave the dark-haired girl a sickly grin and wished he could disappear.

"Ready to play chicken now, Truce?" He asked turning back to his daughter. He was beginning to get unnerved by the admiring looks he was getting not only from _Jinxie_ but from the _lifeguard_ , as well as several other of the _mothers_ in the pool now that Trucy had made such a scene!

Also from (and he _hoped_ he was imagining _this_ one!) Gouda's _father_?!

"OK, Daddy!" Trucy said blithely, clambering on top of his shoulders. Then she turned back to the lifeguard and flashed her a proud smile. "Don't you agree that my Daddy is sexy?"

" _Yes_!" Blurted out Gouda, then blushed and clapped a hand over her mouth as Trucy flashed her a triumphant smirk, and Phoenix felt himself wishing he could dive for cover somewhere.

"I wasn't asking _you_ , Gouda! I was asking the pretty lifeguard!"

Phoenix wanted to drown himself into the water at that exact moment.

"Actually," the young woman drawled, smiling flirtatiously. "I _really_ do, honey. You're lucky to have such a handsome, _sexy_ Daddy."

"My _teacher_ thinks so too!" Trucy confided in a stage whisper, seeming to forget that her friends and Gouda's father were still in ear-shot. "She says my Daddy is a _sexy_ _DILF_ with bedroom eyes!"

The lifeguard clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter as Phoenix turned crimson and prayed for the earth to swallow him whole.

"Not _now_ , Trucy!" Phoenix groaned, struggling to carry his daughter away from this conversation as fast as he could, but not before Trucy made one more last pitch to the lifeguard over her shoulder. "Hey Miss, since you think my Daddy is _sexy_ , does that mean you'd want to be my new Mommy?"

_Heaven help me! My daughter is traumatizing me with the word sexy, making her little friends agree with the diagnosis, and is now at the present, publicly pimping me out at a community swimming pool! Someone…Please. Just. Kill. Me. Now…_

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _The Brass Monkey Tavern, Parking Lot_  
August 7, 2024, 8:05 PM

Franziska was laughing so hard, there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh, that poor _too sexy for his shirt_ , foolish fool!" She gasped, turning her mirthful expression towards Miles, who had somehow kept a straight face while retelling the story Phoenix had emailed him, which although it had been five years ago, was still as fresh in his mind as if it were yesterday. "I wonder what happened at the pool after all that?"

"What does that matter?" He asked darkly, pulling the car into a free spot and frowning at his fiancée. "The point was to explain to you my repugnance to the word _sexy_. Did this embarrassing tale not suffice to illustrate my point?"

"Well, it certainly demonstrates why _Phoenix Wright_ would have a distaste for the word, after hearing it inappropriately used _ad nauseam_ by his elementary school daughter, her little friends, _and_ educators," she admitted, still giggling softly. "I just am still not fully grasping why the word would traumatize _you_ so, _Liebling_?"

"Wright is my best friend, Franziska," Miles replied stiffly, averting his eyes from her probing gaze. "As such, I can certainly feel his mortification at the whole situation through my general male empathies and such…"

"No, it _still_ does not make sense." She insisted. "There is no way that _you_ would be so averse to a word just because Phoenix Wright's daughter unwittingly traumatized him with it! Please me, Miles! Warum spielst du die beleidigte Leberwurst?”

Miles slapped his hand on the dashboard then, courtroom style.

"For the love of God, woman!" He snapped. "If you _must_ know…that's what… _Wendy Oldbag_ calls _me_!"

_"Gah!"_ Her eyes were like saucers.

"Well, you _had_ to ask!" He grimaced. "The Wicked Witch of the Witness Stand refers to me as her _sexy-wexy Edgy-Poo_!"

"I could see how that would affect my stomach more than my heart," Franziska commiserated. _"Sexy-wexy!_ How grotesque!"

Suddenly, she lurched forward in her seat, looking quite ill.

" _Meine Dame!"_ His eyes grew large with alarm. "Are you alright?

_" Ach! Ins Fettnäpfchen treten!"_ Franziska groaned and clutched her stomach. "Now I think I am about to be sick!"

_"Mein Gott!_ Is it the baby?"

_"No!"_ She grimaced. "It is sympathy nausea, undoubtedly stemmed from hearing that blasted story of _yours!"_

"What can I say? Curiosity killed the cat, _meine Dame_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warum spielst du die beleidigte Leberwurst? - (L) Why are you playing the offended liver sausage?  
> (F) You’d use this to ask someone why they’re throwing a tantrum or overreacts to something trivial. 
> 
> Ins Fettnäpfchen treten!  
> (L) To step into the fat bowl  
> (F) Put one's foot in mouth


	51. Maximillian Banks (The Third)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "With life problems, just remember that you're a man who solves his own problems and you will be able to handle it, whenever."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_** _  
_ _Wa Sing Ku's Mansion, Borginia_  
August 7, 2024, 11:00 PM

Prior to being allowed entrance to the fiesta at the drug lord's mansion, Lana and Miles first had to do a check-in with the armed security guard located in front of the iron gates, and assure him that they were there for Wa Sing Ku's party, and then wait for the man to verify that indeed, he and Lana were _on the list_ before they could proceed.

Although he was familiarized with opulence and splendor, having been raised in Germany at the Von Karma manor, and was certainly no stranger to life's extravagances, as he was wealthy enough in his own right, Miles still couldn't help but be impressed by the luxurious mansion where that night's festivities were being held.

He marveled at the sights before him as he slowly drove the Lamborghini up the long winding stone path, lined with pine trees and red crackle glass garden stakes, which held lit up flickering flame torches. Tall, stone towers loomed in the distance, past a courtyard filled with marble fountains, the soft gurgling of the clear water melodic as it resonated in the surrounding night silence.

At last, they came upon the brightly-lit colossal structure.

Looking up, he noted a third-floor balcony, shaped like a half-circle, that overlooked the front of the house, with spiral carved bushes near the door.

After parking the car next to the several dozen others onto the side lawn which seemed to be the designated parking area, Miles extended his arm to Lana and escorted her up the driveway. En route, they passed the lawn of immaculately landscaped cherry blossom and pine trees, from which sphere-shaped cage lanterns hung, as well as next to the large wooden double door. A loud clacking noise resounded as he rapped on the heavy silver knocker shaped liked a lion's head, wondering if it would even be heard over the roaring din he could hear inside.

The door was promptly opened by a man that could have easily passed for the lovechild of Hendricks and his housekeeper, Mrs. Kucharka. The dark-haired lad had the similar stern features of his butler and the same wide-eyed, slightly stunned expression of his Eastern European maid, the latter which Miles found decidedly amusing. After all, wouldn't the butler have been _expecting_ to have folks arriving at the door of the premises where a seemingly roaring soirée was being held?

"Good evening," the prosecutor turned 'playboy' smiled as the young man bowed and ushered them in. "We're guests of Mr. Ku."

"Good evening, and welcome to Huxi Manor, Master Ku's esteemed estate. Please follow me to the terrace, and join the other guests."

Miles and Lana were led through the massive home, which appeared to have no doors, but high archways instead. There was a gigantic electrolier, fifteen feet high, with upward-curling gilt branches opening into cloudy glass lilies of light in the tall ceiling. The main foyer took them through a long hallway leading to the courtyard, followed by just about the longest spiral staircase imaginable. Each area they passed along the way was filled with mosaics on the walls, ornate rugs, and carved statues, as well as extortionate trinkets of deep, lustrous gold and silken silver coruscated in the glimmering lighting provided, shooting beams of pure wealth into every corner of the lavish rooms.

It was exactly the type of residence one would picture for an obscenely prosperous businessman who had achieved his wealth via various illegal and unscrupulous activities.

Drinks were being served on the long terrace, and when Miles and Lana stepped out through the French doors, they spotted two or three dozen small groups of people, already laughing and glowing. It was evident that everyone had been on holiday, and like the roses and begonias in the blossoming garden, they seemed to take and hold the richly filtered light of the flickering torches.

"Shall we meander about?" Miles asked Lana. "I see the party seems to be in full swing already, even though it apparently only started an hour ago."

His undercover partner nodded, her eyes still taking in their swanky surroundings and the various attendees.

"Hurrah for being fashionably late…"

_The last thing we want to do is draw unnecessary attention to ourselves! Although it's not as if_ **_that's_ ** _likely to happen! Well, not in_ **_my_ ** _case, anyway…_

While there were many attractive, suited types of men in various shapes and sizes milling about, Miles, in Lana's opinion, was easily the most handsome man there. The majority of the lucky high rollers were accompanied by one or two exquisite, statuesque model types hanging off their arms, all in various colors of dresses and styles that made her own alleged daring number look like a _nun's habit_ in comparison! And in her towering stilettos, the former Chief Prosecutor could deduce that she was easily the tallest, although _far_ from the most eye-catching female there! If anything, she felt impossibly gangly and out of place next to these petite, dainty belles, not to mention _ancient_ , as well-preserved as she was! There appeared to be absolutely _no_ other woman there who was even over the age of _25_!

As if sensing her unease, Miles plucked two flutes of champagne from a dark-eyed young waiter and steered them into the knee-high maze of the parterre.

The curlicue of the path brought them round to a view of enormous, Olympic-sized pool, equipped with two diving boards. Several guests were already happily splashing about, and shrieks of laughter could be heard as someone started a spirited game of Marco Polo.

"I didn't know it was going to be a _pool_ party!" Lana observed enviously, wishing she'd thought to slip a bikini into her evening bag. "It's such a warm night out, too. It'd be _perfect_ for a swim."

" _Do_ remember, we're not here for _fun_ ," he murmured in her ear, his warm breath shooting unprecedented tingles up and down her spine.

She flashed him an impish grin to mask the unexpected reaction his nearness had on her.

"How could I forget, you old stick in the mud?" She quipped. "It's a damn _party_! Lighten up, will you?"

"A _work_ party, mind you." He crossed his arms.

"I didn't think it was possible, but have you gotten even _more_ uptight over the years?" She goaded. "Is that a _wrinkle_ I see forming on your brow?"

"I _beg_ your pardon?" He asked with attempted hauteur, trying to appear irked at the question but unable to keep the frown on his face as he saw the barely suppressed mirth shining in her lovely eyes. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, stop frowning!" She admonished lightheartedly. "It will only give you wrinkles! And the _more wrinkly_ your face becomes, _the less_ I'm going to be able to read what you're thinking!"

"Well, I _never_! I'll have you know, I don't have a single wrinkle upon my youthful brow!" He declared, crossing his arms while still trying not to smile. "I suggest _you_ fall _more_ into your hired role and take heed to the fact that you're a _working girl_ tonight!"

"I don't think so," she dismissed with a shrug, her eyes still dancing. "You're enough of a stickler for the both of us! Although I think I _might_ _resent_ the _double entendre_ of that particular phrase, Mr. – "

"Ah, ah, ah, _honey_." Even though there appeared to be nobody around them thus far, he put a cautious finger to her lips, effectively silencing her from accidentally blurting out his true identity, while trying to squelch the slight charge he'd felt at the personal gesture. "I respond only to _darling_ or…"

"Yes, I know… _Maximillian Banks, the third_." She smirked at him and took a swig from her glass. "Or do you prefer _Max_?"

"Whatever tickles your fancy, Ms. _Kane_."

"I insist that you that back at once! You _know_ that I _refused_ to be called, _Lana Kane_!" She took another sip of champagne. "What was Lang _thinking_ when he offered to name me after an _anti-friction ointment_?"

"I suppose," he chuckled, breaking his austere mien at last. "That he thought you would be _grateful_ he allowed you to veto the first name _Candy_."

"Ugh…talk about your rock and a hard place…" she groaned. "I realize I'm supposed to be your _arm candy_ tonight, but surely I could have been designated a more _dignified_ moniker, such as _yours_?"

"Well since you're going to _look_ the part of the _doxy_ , I guess they figured why not go _all_ the way?" He suggested mildly, finding himself enjoying this slight banter _way_ more than he should have been, as it made him reminiscent of their past flirtations.

" _First_ I'm a working girl, and now _you're_ calling me another fancy word for _bimbo_?" She swatted him on the arm, even though she was snickering. "You mind your mouth there, _maxi pad_!"

"Tut, tut, my pet," he grinned. "Anyone within earshot may begin questioning your devotion to me thus! Or even worse, assume that there's _friction_ among us and that more _Lanacane_ need is involved!"

She drained the last of her glass and slapped it on a nearby table before turning back to him, her playful smile now replaced with a decidedly less amused expression.

"You _know_ that's not my name!"

"Come along, Ms. _Dallas_." He lightly put his hand on the small of her back and steered her toward the refreshment table. "Let's get some substance into you…you knocked back that last glass a bit too quickly for my liking."

" _One_ glass of bubbly won't make me _drunk_ , you worrywart!" She insisted but went along willingly.

At the far side of the pool were three benches that were dedicated to desserts, which held lemon tarts, rhubarb crème brûlée, orange blossom cakes, minted strawberries fresh from the garden, meringues so beautifully shaped it was a pity to eat them and apple strudels served with ice-cream. There were decadent chocolate bonbons that oozed rum cream on the first bite. A large crystal punch bowl held sparkling candy apple punch, and a swarm of other guests socialized around a waterfall wine chiller and champagne fountain that sparkled with flames.

Lana helped herself to some punch, which, upon the first swallow, she could tell was _copiously_ spiked with a spicy, exotic liquor. Seeing no way to leave it at the table without appearing gauche, and as there was no empty table or server around to dispose of the offending item, she reluctantly held onto the large cup and popped two decadent bonbons into her mouth… before she realized that there was alcohol in _those_ as well.

It was a good thing Lang and Badd had taken them for food prior to all of this, so she didn't have a _completely_ empty stomach. However, she'd been so filled with trepidation and focused on taking note of all the commands and instructions for the evening that she'd barely pecked at her meal, taking only tiny bites of her salad and potatoes, but not much else, in an effort to preserve her lipstick.

_God, I'm an idiot!_

Lana cursed herself now for her vain stupidity. She was going to be the most _immaculately made up_ _,_ _intoxicated_ Interpol agent in the _history_ of undercover operation!

_Fantastic! And I'm a lightweight, so this will all go_ **_right_ ** _to my head! So then I'll be the big awkward giantess who got drunk_ **_an hour_ ** _into the party, fell and twisted her ankle in her stupid spiked heels, and totally blew our whole undercover operation!_ **_Why_ ** _does this kind of stuff have to happen to me? And why…in front of_ **_him_ ** _, of all people?!_

"Is there anything here that _doesn't_ have booze in it?" She hissed at Miles. "I'd been hoping to have my wits about me for when we finally met our host! Have you spotted him yet?"

"Tart?"

" _What_ did you call me now?" Lana asked indignantly, then blushed when he held out of the lemon pastries to her, brow raised in derision.

She hastily popped it into her mouth before she said something to embarrass herself further. Unfortunately, she could feel the effects of the punch and champagne and consumed rum balls already making her head feel abuzz.

"Are you alright?" Miles looked at her in concern, noticing her semi glassy-eyed expression and that she was teetering dangerously on her stilettos. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm _fine_!" She staggered slightly, then reached out and quickly grabbed his shoulder to catch herself, wondering if the consumed sugar from the pastry table hadn't possibly made her tipsy state worse. Unfortunately, there was no other form of more substantial fare within sight. "Just, um, don't walk too fast and see if you can flag down a waiter for some water?"

_Blast! She indeed appears a tad inebriated_. _**Just**_ _what I need…_

Stifling a sigh, Miles wrapped a strong arm around her slender waist, basically supporting her at his side so she could walk with decidedly less stumble. Trying to ignore the stimulating heat of her scantily clad body as he felt her every curve pressed up against him, he plastered on the biggest smile he could muster as he busied himself with the tasks of mingling with guests, pouring water down Lana's throat whenever he could flag down a server, and making what he hoped were subtle inquiries about the whereabouts of their elusive host.

Lana, for her part, was mortified that she had to use Miles as a human crutch because of her blitzed state, and was painfully aware of the inappropriate but deliciously intimate sensation of his firm, muscular body up against hers. She groaned inwardly, and could just _imagine_ Franziska's reaction, watching all this on surveillance with the other agents at the moment. No doubt the German would throw about a _hundred and thirty-seven_ fits about Lana's too-close proximity to her fiancé, and not give a rat's ass about the extenuating circumstances that had preceded it!

Oh well, she would have to worry about _that_ later, along with what her planned method would be _of killing Lang_ for giving her such a _ridiculous_ undercover name…

Finally, after half an hour or so of essentially carrying Lana about, Mils stopped to catch his breath and made small talk with a slim, grey-suited gentleman with a mustache, who was accompanied by a blonde bombshell, donned in a belt that she was passing off as a dress. Lana was still using him as a leaning post, but it was much easier to prop her up if he was no longer _carrying her while moving_! Miles figured if at least he was standing put, the still tipsy Interpol agent could just support herself on him while he regathered his bearings, even it meant their bodies were still in slightly _too close for comfort_ proximity!

"That's him over there," pointed Fletcher Worthington, the art dealer whom they'd been chatting with, along with his companion, who didn't even bother pretending she was anything other than the vapid arm candy she was.

Miles and Lana turned their heads in the direction of the extended finger, by the dessert table.

Wa Sing Ku had, at last, made an appearance.

As if sensing their stares, the Asian man looked over at them and strode over, a polite smile playing upon his lips.

He appeared before them, in all his grandeur. A tailored black suit with a charming red tie. His chiseled jaw lifted with a proud, pleasant smile. To describe his appearance would be to totally miss the point. He was an aristocrat and he didn't give a damn what you thought of the way he looked.

Under the glare of the outdoor lighting against the darkened sky, he looked to be no older than 25, but in the harsher brightness of the day, he was likely closer to 30, although still slightly boyish and charming.

When he at last spoke, there was no audible hint of his Chinese heritage. Ku's cadence sounded nearly as American Miles' did, perhaps more so, as the prosecutor had repeatedly had been told he still bore a slight British lilt in his inflection, leftover from his studies abroad in Europe. Despite spending over a decade as a lawyer in the States, it was something that people nevertheless called attention to sometimes.

"Fletcher, my boy, so glad you could make it," Ku enthused, shaking the art dealer's hand enthusiastically while flashing a row of flawless dentistry to Destiny. "And who is this ravishing creature at your side?"

"Destiny Wilder." The nymph treated him to a sunny smile while extending her hand to shake. "Thanks for inviting us to this _amazeballs_ party, Mr. Ku."

"The pleasure is mine, dear. Well, Fletcher, you're most fortunate to have landed yourself such a stunning catch."

" _Landed?"_ Destiny asked blankly, her eyes wide and vacant as a deer in headlights. "I dunno if _that's_ what our _arrangement_ _could be called… isn't that right,_ Fletchie? I'd say it's more of a transitory alliance of convenience! I mean, it's only been 96 hours, but by current industry standards, I guess that makes us _practically_ married!"

She tittered at her own wit, clearly oblivious to the mortified look on her date's face that in her attempts to sound intelligent, all she'd managed to do was _announce_ herself as the literally _rented sexpot for hire_ she actually was!

There was dead silence as the revelation sunk in.

Miles wanted to laugh, he really did, but knew that would be most unwise, not to mention cruel. He couldn't put a lid on his less than charitable thoughts, though.

_Fletchie, you poor sod, mayhap next time pay your literal working girl extra_ **_not_ ** _to talk!_

"I'm Maximillian Banks, The Third," he interjected easily, cutting through the pregnant pause that seemed to be lingering. "You have a beautiful home. It's a great pleasure to meet you, at last, Mr. Ku. I've heard so much about you."

"And I, you, Mr. Banks." Ku's smile never wavered. "Our _mutual_ associate has been regaling me with tales about how you're a man of exquisite tastes, who enjoys the more refined things life has to offer."

"And _I've_ heard _you're_ a man who can acquire me some of the more _exclusive_ things I may desire," Miles replied smoothly, relieved that they were able to cut to the chase so quickly. "But before we continue, please excuse my rudeness in not first introducing you to my cherished companion, Miss Debbie Dallas."

"Deborah!" Lana cut in quickly, straightening slightly from her leaning position against him and digging her fingers cuttingly into the fake billionaire's back, unseen by the others. She forced a smile. "It's _Deborah_ Dallas, actually."

"But _darling_ , you know how nobody likes to call you that but your mother – it's _much_ too serious a name for a fun-loving girl like you!" Miles smirked, stifling a wince from her sharp jab. "Really, she _prefers_ Debbie, Mr. Ku. Much less formal. Doesn't she even _look_ more like a Debbie?"

"Your name is _Debbie Dallas_?" Asked the incredulous Destiny Wilder, bursting into giggles. " _Seriously_? You guys _do_ know that _Debbie Does Dallas_ is the title of a _totally_ famous _skin flick_ _,_ right?"

_Well if they didn't_ ** _before_** _, they do_ ** _now_** _, you freaking big-mouthed_ _doxy with the stripper name_ _ **!**_ Lana fumed, dropping her eyes to the ground in mortification. _Someone_ _remind me to_ _murder_ _Lang when all is said and done!_

Mercifully, her moment of shame was cut short, mercifully, by said bubble head's date.

"Honey, you mentioned being hungry earlier," Fletcher hinted, taking his rental date firmly by the shoulders as he all but shoved her in the general direction indicated despite her resistance. "Why don't you go indulge in some of those sinful looking decadent delights over at the dessert table before they're all gone?"

The call girl turned and gave him a petulant look.

"Fletchie! I'm not going to eat all that _sugar_!" Destiny sulked. "Do you want me to get _fat_ and burst the seams of this Versace?"

"Then go get a _drink_!" He ground out through gritted teeth, his impatience and frustration evident now. "And get _me_ one while you're at it!"

"Please partake in the champagne fountain I have installed for guest enjoyment." Ku inclined his head graciously. "It's _Cristal_."

"Oh, wowee wow wow! That's the expensive stuff!" Destiny clapped her hands in delight. "It was nice talking to y'all! I'll catch you later, Fletchie! _Toodles_!"

The moment she was gone, there was a collective sigh of relief from the group, although it was hard to say whose was loudest.

"Sorry about that," Fletcher flushed slightly. "She's a nice girl, you know. She just has er, has no filter is all…"

"And she's pleasing to the eye, so what else matters?" Ku waved a dismissive hand, then turned his curious almond eyes back to Miles. "As you were saying, Mr. Banks?"

"Max, please." Miles gave his most disarming smile.

"Alright, Max. You were saying you have, ah, rare, _hedonist_ tastes? Are you, perchance, a collector of some sort?"

"I have a small but impressive and rare art collection," Miles responded easily, having specifically been prepared for this line of questioning.

" _Do_ you now?" Ku raised a skeptical eyebrow. " _Originals_ , of course?"

"Of _course_ ," Miles replied smoothly. "My latest acquisition was the exquisite painting done by Vincent van Gough… _Poppy Flower_. Perhaps you've heard of it?"

" _I_ have!" Exclaimed Fletcher before Ku could answer. Behind his glasses, his eyes were the size of silver dollars as he stared at Miles. "B –but, wasn't that stolen over a decade ago from Cairo's Mohamed Mahmoud Khalil Museum? It's worth over $55 million dollars!"

"You say stolen…I say _liberated_ …" Miles blithely examined his manicure for a moment then looked up and smirked at the art dealer's incredulous expression. "Tom-ay-toe, toe-mah-toe … regardless, it sets off my living room décor _splendidly_."

"I am impressed," Ku admitted. "Although I must let you know now, Max, that I don't dabble as much in the artworks so much as I do in …shipping and receiving _other items_ , shall we say?"

_This_ was the segway they were looking for - possibly having Ku be the lead to Interpol's big break.

Although the Cohdopian smuggling ring had been shut down five years ago, there was something more sinister in the works now that they had to contend with. It appeared that a new, even more, lethal criminal organization that had risen from its ashes, called the _**Li-Suun Niik.**_ The criminal ring was what Interpol had since been chasing since the previous bust, bouncing from Cohdopia to Borginia to Zheng-Fa, yet to no avail, each lead had only led to a dead end.

Interpol wasn't sure if **_Li_** was an actual person or a code name, but the hot items the ring was moving, among other illegal substances, were Borginian cocoons. The cocoons were an item native to the European country of Borginia and the source of a very powerful medicine known to cure the disease Incuritis. It was due to the latter property that Borginian cocoons were forbidden from being taken out of the country, under penalty of death.

The illegal exports were also the source of a very potent toxin, which was being used to make recreational drugs and give the user a high even _more_ potent than the kind achieved with cocaine. It was an effect similar to bath salts, specifically aimed for the private jet set. The cocoons were not for the common street junkie, but for the most well-to-do of users to be used as an upper. Miles wasn't stupid enough to start out _initial_ dealings by asking for them, nor was he certain if the drug lord was even the top dog who could get them for him. But they were certain Ku _was_ their gateway man if nothing else.

But in order to gain the Asian's trust, first, he'd have to start _smallish_.

"If you could please excuse us, Fletcher," Miles shot the still-stupefied man his most charming smile. "I'd appreciate a moment alone with our delightful host to talk business?"

"Oh, of course." The other nan blinked, his cheeks reddening at his obtuseness. "I shall … go ensure Destiny hasn't _completely_ drained that Cristal fountain there! I'll see you all later."

Miles turned to the Asian man, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossed.

"So …what say you, Mr. Ku? Can we talk business?"

A slow, sly smile curved across the Chinese man's lips.

"But of course! However, in the interest of keeping cool on this stifling warm night…" he gestured to the swimming pool. "How would you feel about taking this conversation to the water, where we can all be refreshed and energized?"

"That's a great offer, Mr. Ku," Lana smiled ruefully. "But neither Max nor I brought our swimsuits."

She was treated to an unmistakable leer.

"That's hardly a hindrance, Debbie. See for yourself."

Lana turned around, her cheeks turning pink as she noticed not only various _swim trunks_ tossed carelessly onto the deck, but several of the women had also whipped off their bikini tops and were now drunkenly floating, face-up in the water. Even as she kept staring, one of them whipped off her bottoms and was now prancing, all carefree and merry, throughout the water.

_Hold it! Isn't' one of those drunken naked chick_ _s_ _Destiny_ _?!_

"Oh," Lana blushed. "Um, I don't think…"

"What's the matter, Debbie?" Ku's lascivious eyes gave the undercover Agent an abashedly explicit appraisal that made Lana's skin crawl. "That dress already doesn't leave _too_ much to the imagination … and I daresay, with Max here hopefully not objecting, that you have _nothing_ to be bashful about in the slightest! If you were old and fat, I'd understand. Seeing as how you're neither and have a _most_ acceptable figure…"

"It's my monthly, er, _lady time_!" Lana cried desperately, improvising quickly. Her face flamed. "I don't think…"

"Say no more my dear, say no more." Ku didn't even attempt to hide his disappointment at the lost opportunity of seeing the shapely Miss Dallas in her birthday suit. "However, you needn't miss out on a dip. Actually, a few of my guests were unprepared for this impromptu pool party. But off to the side, there are both men and women's change rooms, with spare swimming attire for both of you to change into."

He leered at Miles.

"I'm not even going to _feign_ an offer to let _you_ go in _au naturel_ , Max. I don't know if I could bear the … _competition_." Flashing a jaunty wink, he sauntered back inside the house. "I'll see you two by the deep end in five, then?"

"You bet," Lana called out hollowly. "See you."

The minute the host had left, the exes eyed each other warily. They both knew, without saying aloud, the _true_ reasons for her reservations about Operation Pool Dip, but neither could say it aloud right at that moment! Moreover, there was also the _teensy weensy_ matter that _neither_ of them had planned on seeing the other in a (near) state of _undress_ ever again - never mind this _soon_ after being reunited!

The entire scenario only added further discomfort to the already undeniable sexual tension between them, which was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Silently, the pair headed to their respective pool houses, each lost in thought.

Miles was the first to emerge, clad in a pair of well-fitted black swim trunks from the surprisingly vast selection that had been available.

Splashes, squeals and the cacophony of voices greeted his ears at the swimming pool.

_Listen to those drunken louts_ _!_ He grumbled internally. _It sounds like a zoo!_

Then he glanced down at the pool water gently lapping at the tiled edges, seeing no need to delay the inevitable, in spite of the now somewhat chiller outside temperature. The only way to do this was to plunge right in and let the cool water surround him all at once, hoping the heat from his muscles would be enough to keep the shivering at bay.

Taking the literal plunge, Miles dove right in.

After doing a few laps up and down the one secluded lane of the pool, away from the drunken and naked other bathers, he stopped and lay back in the water, letting his limbs do the thinking for him. The water was surprisingly warmer than he'd anticipated and quite refreshing.

Leaning back into a relaxed floating position, he stretched out his arms, closed his eyes, opened his palms and released all bodily tension while he tried to let the calming waves take all his worries away.

After a few moments of blissful silence, he looked around and spotted Ku and Lana coming towards the pool at the same time, both in red swimwear … the former in …

_Gah_ _!_ _A Speedo_?!

The willowy brunette wore a minuscule string bikini that left very little to the imagination. Every curve of her lithe body was prominently on display, as the swimsuit consisted of nothing more than two small cherry-colored triangles that barely covered her breasts and one only slightly larger to cover up her…

His mouth went dry. He shut his eyes.

_Don't even_ **_go_ ** _there, Miles Edgeworth!_

Lana had emerged from the change room, feeling as _self-conscious as hell_ in her barely-there bikini, the skimpy style being the _sole one_ the deviant, perverted host had had available!

Her eyes fell to the pool surface, taking a deep breath as she tried to get her tumultuous emotions in check. This day had been nothing but unprecedented, and unexpected havoc on her psyche, and, after this party with Miles, her _heart_. It could all lead to nothing but disaster. And none of this would be going away, no matter how much she wished otherwise. She was trapped.

_I want to be in that water, under it, gliding dolphin-like to the tiles below more than my next breath. The coolness will bring me to the present like nothing else. In those perfect moments, I can forget the past, cease to analyze the future. I won't worry about who I am, who I will become, who I might never be. In its watery embrace, there is only the present, nothing more. Underneath the surface, I can escape the dull drag of gravity. It is as free as I've ever experienced in my 37 years; nothing else comes close._

However, she and Miles knew she had very good reasons why she would _not_ be going into the water and joining the lecherous Asian who had already submerged himself. Instead, she perched herself on the edge and smiled benignly at the man, pretending to be engrossed in Ku's mindless yammering while she brooded her plight.

Opening his eyes again, Miles craned his neck to get a clearer view of Ku, and of Lana, at the far end, chatting with the drug lord. She was sitting on the ledge outside of the pool, long tanned legs dangling in the water as she laughed at whatever the host was saying. The Chinese man stood in the shallow end, directly below her in the water, reaching up and putting his hand on her thigh, a bold gesture which made appeared not to have any effect on her, but the prosecutor knew his former paramour well enough to note the discomfiture in her eyes.

With gritted teeth, Miles approached them _._

_Unhand her, you despicable lecher, before I'm forced to remove your grubby paws_ **_for_ ** _you!_

Lana looked over at him with flushed cheeks and a tight grin of apprehension, as she was now obviously uncomfortable at being left alone with the lewd pervert, especially under these circumstances!

Miles grinned back at her, feeling helpless about what to do. He wanted to help her but was utterly powerless about being able to do so. He was red-faced himself with the anxiety and forced eagerness of awaiting to talk business with a man he now wanted to beat into a pulp, all the while hoping his new hair wouldn't _completely_ be undone from Jilly's laborious efforts.

More importantly, he _really_ hoped that this was a _permanent_ and not sort of eco-friendly, scent-free, water-soluble variety of dye on his head…you never could tell with those vegan, hippy Hollywood types…and the last thing he needed to was to cast inky stains in the pool!

He finally sidled up to the two and casually engaged himself in the conversation, discreetly putting himself between the touchy-feely host and Lana so the other man had no choice but to remove his wandering hand, which had been creeping even higher up her thigh at this point while allowing Ku to lead the conversation and regale them with several amusing anecdotes that thus far had naught to do with the matter at large.

Finally, there was a lull of the conversation, and Miles seized the opportunity to steer things back to business.

"So…" he began. "Here are my thoughts, Mr. Ku. Nothing too big … but I'm thinking maybe arranging a shipment… for ten kilos?"

"Fair enough. That's not too big … but not exactly _small_ either, Max." Ku smilingly arched an eyebrow. "That kind of nose candy will run you about $350,000 US."

"Not a problem," Miles said smoothly. "Do you take cheques?"

"Ha-ha, you're a funny guy." Ku's smiling visage vanished. "I'm no bank, _Banks_. Cash _only_. But I don't venture into any new business with just _anyone_. It doesn't matter to me how impressive the news from the underground, which I've heard from our mutual associate, happen to be! I need to ensure certain _factors_ first … make sure things are on the up and up with you. I have to know that I can depend on your loyalty. Trust you _completely_."

"Not a problem." Miles crossed his arms and stared unwaveringly at the other man. "I understand. You name whatever it is I'm going to have to do to gain your trust and you can consider it done."

"Well…before I will have you _receiving_ anything from me…" Ku smiled shrewdly. "There's some _shipping_ I need you to take care of for me first."

"Consider it done." Miles had expected as such and had been given autonomy to agree to just about anything to get phase one off the ground. If things went according to plan, the drug lord would soon get to trust him with a large cocaine shipment…then hopefully… _eventually_ …to more expensive, _rare_ finds. Or at least, trust him enough to steer him towards the folks who could get his hot little hands on the cocoons.

The Asian outlined his operation plan, while the undercover Max Banks nodded and acquiesced, taking mental note of everything as well as the time, date and place the shipment would need to be dropped off to. If all went well, Ku said, then he would contact Miles to talk about arranging the cocaine shipment he'd requested.

After all the details were laid out, the host resumed his laughing congenial state and engaged them in some idle chatter for a bit longer.

Through the generous laughter emitted, he caught Lana's eye again, and held it for two or three long seconds, giving her perhaps a transfusion of reassurance. Miles himself was a trifle nervous whether or not his planned speech had gone properly, and was chuckling in imitation of the others, not at the jokes themselves….all the while feeling more than a little anxious himself.

After a spell, Ku proclaimed he had to mingle with his other guests and told them to enjoy the rest of the party. His parting should have made Miles feel relieved, but he didn't. Now that he was alone with Lana, who still hadn't come into the pool, he felt more agitated and apprehensive than ever.

The reason for his edgy state was he'd finally allowed himself to understand _why_. If he was to be perfectly honest, his frayed nerves pertained to more than merely just talking shop with a potentially dangerous and powerful criminal.

It was because of Lana. Hell, _99%_ of this was because of Lana! About how she had gotten under his skin again. About how he'd felt an almost uncontrollable surge of protectiveness and worse… _jealousy_ when he'd seen that creep with his mitts on that luscious body. He hated that she'd always brought that instinct out in him. He hated even more that she _still_ did, apparently.

Worse, her beauty only deepened the more time he spent looking at her.

He cursed himself as he remembered how earlier that day there'd been that fraction of a heartbeat when he'd partially lost himself and actually contemplated kissing her! And earlier that night, when she'd been tipsy from the champagne, he'd imagined cradling her cheek and tasting the wine from those full red lips. He'd quickly come to his senses of course and knew he needed to get a rein on himself.

Miles took a deep breath and exhaled.

He and Lana were colleagues now…who could talk at length about many different subjects. Friendly associates, who happened to share a _colorful_ history, but now _just_ shared working relationship. And playful banter. But that was _all_.

Lana had thus far given no indication she felt anything beyond friendly courtesy toward him now, so that spirited back and forth that they still had, that they'd had even back then, was safe enough. Now, it was merely a part of the undercover ruse, after all.

But his surprising inclination towards her at present was making him think otherwise.

Desperate to clear his thoughts and remain focused, he looked up at his ex, still sitting on the ledge, and asked the question that had been plaguing his mind since he'd seen her in all her nearly nude glory.

"Now that the coast is clear…" Miles queried, as soon as he was certain Ku was out of earshot. "Did you manage to successfully keep the wiretap on your person, perchance?"

"Miraculously, yes," Lana returned wryly. "Thank goodness I was able to come up with a plausible excuse not to go into the water though! I don't know it this thing is waterproof!"

"You've _still_ got it on … underneath _those scant garments_?" He asked disbelieving, gesturing to the bikini on her barely covered body. "But _how_ …?"

"Trust me, _Max_." She grimaced. You _don't want to know_."


	52. So Much Left Unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She can't put her finger on a single lipstick stain  
> Perfume doesn't linger on a shirt on  
> There's no matchbook in his pocket with a number and name  
> So why does she still hurt
> 
> 'Cause a woman knows, when there's another woman  
> She can feel her, all over her man  
> A woman knows, when there's another woman  
> You can't fool her, so don't try to think you can
> 
> What she don't know, won't hurt her  
> That's what he tells himself  
> So he hides his cheatin' heart inside his chest  
> He thinks he's put one over, but what he don't know is  
> He's already confessed
> 
> 'Cause a woman knows, when there's another woman  
> She can feel her, all over her man  
> A woman knows, when there's another woman  
> You can't fool her, so don't try to think you can
> 
> A woman knows, when there's another woman  
> You can't fool her, so don't try to think you can

**_Franziska Von Karma and Shi-Long Lang_**  
 _Discreet Surveillance Van, Wa Sing Ku's Neighborhood,_  
 _Borginia_  
August 8, 2024, 1:00 AM

"Have that camera drone zoom in a bit closer," Lang instructed, squinting at the screen. "I don't know how she managed to do it but even in that tiny getup that perv made her change into, Agent Skye _somehow_ managed to keep her wire on! The question is, _how_?"

"And _where_?" Badd chuckled as he complied with the instructions. "There's barely anything covering her! I mean, I'm sure _Ku_ isn't complaining! By the way, she's _still_ more covered than half the women and men at that _orgy_ pool party…"

"I'm impressed," Kay admitted, grinning at them as she momentarily removed the left side of the headphone away from her ear. "She's managed to keep her clothes, wits, _and_ wire about her. I can hear everything clear as day!"

"Detective Badd." Franziska ground out through gritted teeth as she gripped the back of his chair so hard her knuckles turned white. "As the more reasonable of the two of you gentlemen, could _you_ kindly hand me another tablet so that I may properly do my job and better partake in surveillance of the situation, thus no longer need to force my way over there and attempt to view the screen over Agent Lang's _gigantic head?"_

"I said negative to your request the first time, Miss Claws of Steel, and I meant it! Even though you're content to try to _talk around me_ as if I'm not here, in the manner of a petulant child, the answer is _still_ no!" Lang barked before the flatfoot could reply. "You know damn well the reason I refuse to give you another device is that you've already broken _two_ of them!"

He gestured to the busted two slate computers sitting to the right of Kay's seat, one with an irreparably cracked screen and the other split nearly in half.

"Ergo, in the currently unhinged state of mind that you're in, I refuse to give you another one until you get a hold of that temper of yours and stop being such a hormone monster! Do you have any idea how much those things cost?!"

"Interestingly enough, those are tablets are certified military spec and supposedly indestructible." Badd popped his ever-present lollipop back into his mouth to disguise his smirk as Lang glowered. "However did a tiny thing like you manage to do that, anyway? What do you do on the side, Franziska? Crack walnuts? Shuck oysters?"

Despite the van was just roomy enough for the four of them and their surveillance equipment, it was also, most fortunately for her colleagues, not large enough for the ex-prosecutor to have room to unleash her wrath with her whip. A glare that would have bored holes through a wall was the detective's reward for his quip instead.

"The _first_ one was probably around the time Lana nearly tripped and had to lean against Mr. Edgeworth for the rest of the night," Kay reminded them, as though anyone had forgotten. "I _think_ that may have been the one she cracked in two…"

"I am about to be cracking a few _skulls_ in another moment!" The pregnant femme threatened, returning Lang's furious glare with one of her own. " _Starting_ with my über friendly fiancéwith regards to his inexcusable proximity to the now practically nude _Schlampe_ with whom he is cavorting in that pool!"

"For the record, Lana is not _in_ the pool, she's still sitting _outside_ on the edge…" The Wolf Man began but the fiery woman interrupted him.

"Do not _dare_ to try sidetracking me with semantics, you fool!" The silver-haired _Frau_ snarled. "She is been draped all over my Miles like a cheap _Straßenmädchen_ the entire night and you expect me to _keep calm and carry_ _on_ about this?!"

Lang closed his eyes for a moment and clasped his palms together tightly as if praying for strength before replying.

"I understand your delicate condition, which may be clouding your impartial judgment now, Agent Von Karma, and thus taking a potshot at a fellow Agent and dubbing them a _streetwalker_ but what I _expect_ is for you to put your petty jealousies aside and remain professional!"

"This has _nothing_ to do with me being pregnant!"

"She's probably telling the truth, Agent Lang," the Great Thief offered helpfully. "It's just in her nature to be possessive and irrational when it comes to Mr. Edgeworth."

The Yatagarasu crossed her arms and shrugged at the furious look the firey German shot her.

"Quit glaring at me already! You know it's true! Mr. Edgeworth told me about the time that you threw a hissy fit when I swiped his phone from him and answered it when you called that one time! You erupted like Mount Vesuvius and you weren't even having his baby back then!"

"I do believe it is high time I fired my unsolicited defense attorney here." Franziska narrowed her eyes at the raven-haired Agent. "Should you not be paying attention to whatever is transpiring at that party rather than jabbering nonsensically with these trite anecdotes that are personal in nature?"

_Whether or not they are true is completely beside the point!_

"Stingy pants! We, the defense counsel, are subject to so much ingratitude!" Kay lifted a brown-gloved hand to her mouth to cover her amused snicker as she turned back to her screen with another shrug. "That's  
 _one_ client I'm not going to bother trying to defend again!"

"Looks like Lana's leaving the pool area now," Badd suddenly reported, his sharp eyes peering intently at his screen. "Edgeworth has arranged some sort of deal for next week – but Ku hasn't agreed to deliver any of the goods requested until _Mr. Banks_ scratches his back first."

"Crafty son of a bitch," Lang grumbled. "Although I suspected as much. Do we have the details of the demands?"

"We've got the gist," Badd nodded. "Pretty sure they can fill us in more on things during the debriefing. We gonna steer this thing and head back to HQ?"

"Affirmative. They know to meet us back there when all is said and done. It will be a very interesting and I trust, _civilized_ exchange of information amongst us…"

Lang cast a wary glance at Franziska, who had crossed her arms defiantly and turned her back to the group now, refusing to look at any of them.

The van ride back to the office was filled with stony silence.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Interpol Headquarters, Borginia_  
August 8, 2024, 2:00 AM

The four colleagues were sitting on the edge of their seats in eager anticipation for the return of the playboy and his "playmate."

Carrying a large coffee cup in her hands, Lana entered first, wearing Mile's suit jacket draped over her shoulders, along with a drained expression. Her cohort was in tow, looking just as exhausted but with a slightly more triumphant countenance but his features slowly morphed into a mask of consternation as he advanced on the quartet and saw Franziska's foreboding mien.

Nobody spoke a word as the two lovers stared at one another, gray eyes on grey eyes, one set looking confused and slightly guilty; the other downright mutinous.

The tension in the room was so thick, it was almost visible.

That's when the ninja cleared her throat and attempted to break the ice.

" _Sooo_ …" Kay's voice trailed off awkwardly when it appeared that nobody was in a rush to speak first. "Um, since it's clear no one _else_ is going to bother introducing us…"

With a resigned shrug, she affixed a welcoming beam, rose from her chair and approached Lana with an extended palm.

"I'm Agent Kay Faraday. It's so nice to finally be able to put a face to the voice on the phone from earlier." Her bright green eyes sparkled with their customary affable twinkle. "Agent Lang and Uncle Badd have told me so much about you tonight that I feel like I _already_ know you, Lana."

She smirked at Miles' fiancée and confided in a stage whisper.

"Also, I heard quite a bit about you from _Franziska_ too but I'm going to ignore most of _that!"_

The ex-detective smiled uncertainly, then tentatively shook the proffered hand.

"That's probably a good call," she agreed cautiously, pretending to ignore the darted look the German woman shot her. "Pleased to meet you, Kay."

"Well, now that everyone has made all the niceties and been properly introduced…" Franziska's inflection held the sharpness of a Tachi blade as she cast a pointed glare at Lang. "Could I _politely and professionally_ now request for Agent Skye to remove _my fiancé's_ attire from her person, post-haste?"

Miles let out a soft groan and clapped a hand to his forehead.

"Ngh! _Franziska…"_

"Franziska, _what?"_ She snapped. "The sting act is _over_ for the night and your undercover arm candy is no longer posing as your plaything, so why is she _still_ wearing your clothing? Is it not sufficient that she already had _you_ draped all over her the entire night?"

Lana recoiled slightly and let out a pained grunt.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Is your voice always this _shrill?"_ She rubbed her temples. "Ugh, my poor head…"

 _"Shrill?"_ Franziska's unhinged tone rose a few octaves until it transformed into a full, ear-splitting falsetto. "I cannot believe your audacity, you little … _Schlampe!_ Take. It. _Off_ _!"_

"I will do _anything_ you want if it'll make you turn it _down a notch_ ," Lana moaned and dropped her skull into one hand. Shrugging off the offending item, she waved it at her undercover partner to take back. "Lucifer's nipples! My aching head…"

Miles retrieved the jacket swiftly, beyond mortified at his fiancée's truculent behavior. He wasn't sure if the others were equally fluent in German and knew that Lana had just been called a _slut_ but _he_ certainly was! Moreover, he was stumped about how to handle his lover's ire, especially when he couldn't understand what had caused it, _this_ time!

"Are you all right, Lana?" Lang asked worriedly, ignoring the fuming silver-haired woman for the moment and placing a hand on the Agent's bare shoulder. "What's wrong with your head?"

"Are you cold? Take _my_ jacket," Badd offered graciously, dropping his enormous, battered trench coat over the slumped woman's shoulders. The brunette smiled gratefully as she took another sip from her Styrofoam cup.

"Er, Lana accidentally ingested a bit more alcohol than initially intended at the party," Miles admitted sheepishly. "Hence, our slight delay in returning here, as I'd stopped at a donut shop along the way so I could get her a coffee."

Lang frowned slightly.

"I understand you had to try to blend in with the scene, Lana, but I can't say I'm too impressed with your inability to handle your liquor intake the first night of the operation…"

"Ugh, I didn't load up on _purpose_ _!"_ The faux Debbie Dallas drained the last of her java and set it aside. "That party was one gigantic _orgy_ ready to happen and the scene was perfectly set, what with champagne waterfalls and wine fountains and spiked punch and even booze-soaked desserts as the sole fodder there! Did none of you believe me when I told you guys I was a lightweight? Plus, since I was too nervous to eat much dinner, I was so careful to only consume _one_ glass of champagne an hour into the party."

"Unfortunately, the poor thing inadvertently consumed a huge glass of the spiked punch and two rum-infused desserts, being none the wiser until it was too late," Miles finished loyally.

"Is that right?" Franziska arched an eyebrow. "Is _that_ why you two looked so cozy on camera then?"

The barrister barely stifled another groan as the reason for the tempestuous beauty's unveiled ire became apparent. Of course! The surveillance cameras … the overhead drones … Interpol had been watching the action unfold all night and no doubt his fiancée had seen the supposed _coziness_ between him and Lana and fully misconstrued the whole damn thing!

"Lana was wearing four-inch stilettos on a cobblestone patio, _meine Dame_ ," he explained patiently. "Also, as she just elucidated, since she was running on an empty stomach and unexpectedly ended up tipsy, she was thence in need of _something_ to stabilize her and as her escort for the night, the onus was upon me to ensure she didn't fall flat on her face! However, it may have appeared on the screens, I was a human crutch for the night, nothing more. We had a part to play and we simply did our best."

"I was only wearing his jacket because I caught a nasty chill being outdoors in this skimpy ensemble and _then_ was forced to wear an even _skimpier_ one by the pool for that creepy lecher, Ku, in order to save face. Subsequently, I caught an even _worse_ draft!" Lana added, looking Franziska right in the eye. "Miles was simply being a gentleman."

The pregnant hormone monster broke eye contact first and the former Chief Prosecutor barely stifled a scream of frustration.

"Christ on a Crouton, Franziska! Contrary to how it may have appeared, I was _not_ trying to make the moves on your fiancé, alright?" Lana exclaimed righteously. "You know what really cheeses my whistle? That you're failing to grasp how this was all _just_ as uncomfortable for me as it was for _him_! After all, _I'm_ engaged as well, I'll have you know!"

"You are betrothed?" Franziska regarded her skeptically just as the stunned Miles blurted out: "To _whom_?"

"Yes, I am." The accused opted to answer her contender's question first. "And have been for the past _five years_."

"Is that right?" Lady Von Whippingberg persisted, eying the agent's barren finger doubtfully. "So where is your engagement ring, then?"

"Um, I don't have one right now. It was … an impromptu proposal." Lana blushed slightly. "Jake's er, currently incarcerated right now…"

 _"Marshall?"_ Miles gaped at her. "You're engaged to _Jake Marshall_?"

"I am." The brunette lifted her chin piously. "Right before I came over to Europe to commence training, Jake proposed to me and asked me to wait for him. "To hold the power of affection and maintain the roots of love, you must stay trusted. And I not only accepted but I promised him that I would do just that."

Putting this new information with the other explanations they'd divulged, ultimately the innocence behind the incriminating evidence on the tape _did_ all make sense, Franziska was forced to admit, as her anger fizzled a notch.

Nonetheless, there was something else that was bothering her. Something she couldn't _quite_ put her finger on, which she'd taken note of on that camera, and what the others seemed to have missed entirely, which just wouldn't allow her to renounce her words or actions just yet.

There were so many things were left unsaid that she still yearned to know.

It wasn't just the actions between Lana and Miles so much as the unspoken overall _intimate exchange_

between the two, which she'd been witnessing all night.

The _looks_ … the overall _vibe_ … the lingering glances. How much of it had merely been part of the _act?_ Was her fiancé truly just an Academy Award-worthy actor or was there more to this story than he had let on? Moreover, would Miles confirm her suspicions if she inquired later in private? Or would he just wave away her doubts as petty unfounded insecurities yet again?

So many questions, so few answers.

Ergo, she opted to remain mum and let her colleagues continue. Miles was quiet as well – he remained visibly poleaxed by Lana's betrothal news, Franziska noted perspicaciously.

"Well, now that we've gotten _that_ out of the way, _I'm_ going to demand the question the fellas here are too polite to ask!" Kay announced. " _Where_ did you manage to manage to stash that wire in that itty-bitty bikini, Lana?"

The new Agent grimaced.

"Best not to ask; I'd rather not speak of this subject ever again!" She reached into her bra and recovered the device, tossing it at Lang, who caught it easily. "But for the record, that thing chafes like a bitch."

"Nice job, Lana," the Wolf Man praised. "Great work tonight, both of you. I know some events must have been a tad embarrassing but that was some pretty clever thinking, using that monthly feminine excuse as to allude why you didn't go into the pool when Ku asked."

"You _could_ have, you know." Badd removed his sucker from his mouth. "That thing _is_ waterproof."

Lana grunted. " _Now_ you tell me!"

She then fixed her indignant eyes on Lang.

" _I_ was the agent, and _Miles_ was the escort, technically, even though Ku didn't know that! So why couldn't _he_ have been the one who got stuck with that damn wire?"

"It would have been the same outcome even if you'd gone with Badd or me, assuming either one of us could have convincingly played the part of a billionaire playboy, which we most certainly could not! The reason you had to wear it, Ms. Dallas, was because _you_ were the innocent, arm-candy bimbo." Lang shrugged. " _Nobody_ ever suspects the bimbo."

The word _bimbo_ , yet again, on top of the unknown foreign disparagement Franziska had hurled at her (which she didn't quite understand but knew had been intended as an insult) was a bit much for Lana after everything she'd endured that night. Without preamble, she sprung up out of her seat, stalked up to the Zheng-Fa native, drew back her fist, and delivered an ultra-sharp jab right onto his unsuspecting arm.

 _"Ouch_ _!"_ Lang's dark eyes shot daggers at her as he clutched his mildly injured left shoulder, where Lana's surprisingly strong, practiced blow had connected. "What the _hell_ was that for?"

"What was it _for?"_ She fumed, glaring back at him. " Tonight, I was intoxicated, nearly froze to death, was degraded and paraded around like a floozy, groped, sexually harassed… and to top it all off, laughed at by some actual rent-a-date jezebel with the stripper name of _Destiny Wilder_ for _my_ even more depraved one of _Debbie Dallas!"_

"Debbie Dallas?" Kay echoed in surprise. "Wait, isn't that the name of a…"

"Oh, yeah, right … _that."_ Lang smirked and rubbed his arm. "Sorry about that, Agent Skye."

"Was that your idea of spiteful revenge because I vetoed your equal attempts at debasing hilarity, _Candy Cane_ and _Lana Kane_?" She demanded crossly, hands-on-hips. "You decided to name me after a _porn star_?"

"Objection! _Debbie Does Dallas_ is the name of a famous X-rated _adult film,_ not its female _star,"_ the Agent guffawed. "I couldn't recall the name of that skin flick actress if my life had depended on it…"

"Are you missingthe point on purpose? Or need I make it with your _other_ arm?" Lana's teal eyes were blazing. "I was utterly humiliated tonight because of your sick, twisted, perverse sense of humor!"

 _"Not so fast!"_ Lang was cracking up now, even though he held up a placating hand as he did so. "Ameliorate your money-makers, please! Sick and twisted I can admit to being but there was _no_ perversion intended, I swear! Every pack has its own rules and as leader of this one, I make a traditional of subjecting all my rookie cubs to a little harmless razzing once they're on board. An impromptu initiation of sorts. Sometimes, said hazing consists of giving them a name they don't particularly care for. Isn't that right – _pretty boy_?"

The Wolverine lookalike cocked a wolfish grin at Miles, who scowled back but tersely nodded in reply.

"However, I'm very sorry if you were embarrassed tonight because of it, Lana." He flashed his most disarming smile. "Sounds like the only person who gave you a hard time about your name was an _actual_ bimbo, so and in the end, does her opinion even matter?"

"Fine. I forgive you," Lana sighed deeply. "It was just the principle of it all, being judged by a cheap floozy that rents her body by the hour – who then proceeded to shamelessly flaunt it about by parading around nude in the pool with the other drunken debauched bunch. Ultimately, I honestly shouldn't give a rat's ass about what some hired piece of tail, who believes she's hot shit on a silver platter but is just cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup, thinks of me!"

Kay snorted loudly at this colorful depiction, while Badd had to pop his candy back in his mouth to mask his own snickering.

"I recall seeing that naked pool licentiousness she speaks of on the cameras, as well." Franziska finally spoke. "What sort of depraved party did our inside mole lure them to, Agent Lang?"

"We're Interpol Agents, not moralists or priests," Lang shrugged. "And we got the job done, so what does it matter if the man you went to arrange business with is rich as hell but morally bankrupt? No skin off our backs, right?"

"Well, I _suppose_ you are right about that but…"

"The timing couldn't have been better, we wrapped up the deal just as things were getting uncomfortably boisterous," Miles spoke up. "We managed to leave the premises just as the host began doing cocaine lines off Miss Wilder's bare bosom…"

"Shit fire and save matches already! That's quite enough!" Badd held up a hand. "We have it on tape, Miles. No need to paint us a tawdry picture of the debauchery that you did or didn't partake in tonight!"

"Of course, I _didn't!_ Nor did I have any desire to!" The prosecutor was annoyed. "And no matter what indignities Lana was subjected to tonight, there's no way in hell I would have allowed anything of such depraved magnitude to happen to her!"

There it was _again_ , Franziska noted, narrowing her eyes. That defensive, almost jealous vibe within her fiancé; the same one she'd noted when she'd viewed Lana being subjected to lascivious attention from Ku at the party. At the time, she'd tried to convince herself he'd been merely playing the part of attentive, protective boyfriend to the hilt because he'd very been heavily aware Interpol was watching his every move on camera.

Franziska's nostrils flared and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Engaged or not, her gut instincts warned her that Lana Skye was nowhere near as innocent as she tried to appear. Not when the German woman could see that protectiveness manifesting itself on Miles' face in conjunction with that _verdammte Schlampe_ for the umpteenth time that night!

And _this_ time, there were no cameras around…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenny Chesney – A Woman Knows


	53. Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We all love people in our life. The way of expressing it may change but the intensity never fluctuates. There are comparisons and fights in any relationship because of the same reason for their existence."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Wa Sing Ku's Neighborhood, Borginia_  
October 13, 2024, 6:15 PM

The atmosphere in the Lamborghini on the ride over to the Asian drug lord's house was filled with strained silence.

Miles was at the wheel, his eyes staring straight ahead of him at the road. They hadn't once even veered in the direction of his passenger, to whom he'd not spoken a word since leaving Interpol Headquarters and receiving the latest set of instructions from Lang half an hour ago.

Lana cast a surreptitious, sideways glance at her faux beau's tense profile and saw his jaw tighten even more; as if sensing her gaze. Perplexed, she dropped her eyes back into her lap, busying herself with staring instead at her long, French-manicured nails, the tips which were idly fiddling with the hem on her skimpy mini-dress which she was wearing for that evening's excursion.

She had always known Miles was the strong, silent type and not one for idle chit-chat. However, they were supposed to be presenting a _united_ front as passionate lovers to Wa Sing Ku at his impromptu "business dinner" that night. Therefore, she certainly didn't want to go in there with any sort of dissension between them, which her spy senses told her was palpably evident – at least on _his_ end – although she had no clue _as to why!_

_This is ridiculous!_ She told herself. _What the hell is his problem?!_

As it was, she was already a bundle of nerves because of her 'arm candy' appearance, as she'd been subjected to yet another image overhaul earlier that day. Jilly and Carlos had been retained to be on-site for as long as their services were required, and while the transformation process had been less grueling and intricate than the last, she was still uncomfortable having to dress up like a slutty Barbie doll.

When Miles had emerged from his makeover, he'd looked as grumpy as he had the last time around, even though he'd only taken half an hour for his transformation this time, having only required a black root and eyebrow touchup. He was donned in another dark designer suit, as well as being cravat free yet again – the latter being presumably under protest!

When Lana had completed her transformation, her cohort did not say a word or even _look_ at her, never mind treat her to any sort of smile or reassurance, as he had for the last occasion. Ergo, she had no idea if she looked convincingly sexy enough this round; she'd begged Carlos and Jilly to tone it down a notch from last time. After all, the _last_ thing Lana had wanted to do was encourage the horny Ku in _any_ way!

This time around, her silky taffy-colored tresses, while still artfully coiffed around her face, was not elaborately pinned up into a shorter, more high maintenance style but and hung down her back in long, loose waves. A bigger relief was that her face, while skillfully made up, no longer felt like an inch-thick mask on her face as it had on the night of the pool party. Carlos had even allowed Lana to wear her beloved familiar red scarf, an old gift from Ema, as the flowy material went well with her outfit, and made her feel a tad more comfortable at having a memorable, comforting piece of her old life with her.

Ergo at the present, the Agent wore only 2-inch kitten heels, the same shade of her royal blue, strapless dress, which wasn't nearly as minuscule as the last one, and allowed her to bend over without too much scandal this time, if required –so long as she did a _knee-bend!_

Finally sick of the taciturn air engulfing them, at last, Lana fiddled with the radio dials on the dashboard, selected a station at random, and began drumming her fingers in tune to a song from the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ , "Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me".

* * *

**_Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty_ **

**_Thrill me chill me fulfill me_ **

**_Creature of the night._ **

**_Then if anything grows while you pose_ **

**_I'll oil you up and rub you down_ **

**_And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction_ **

**_You need a friendly hand and I need action..._ **

* * *

Without warning, and never once taking his eyes off the road, Miles reached over and promptly shut the song off, just as Lana was starting to mentally sing along the lyrics in her mind.

"Objection!" She turned and gave him a look of annoyance. "What gives, Miles, er, _Max?_ Since when are you violently opposed to Broadway show tunes? I thought you and your _alter ego_ were both avid enjoyers of culture and refinement."

"I am indeed an aficionado of all things cultured," he bit out tightly. "However, _that_ song is borderline  
obscene and distracting and does not even remotely fit that bill. Moreover, I require a quantum of solace to gather my bearings in preparation for this deal with Ku."

_"Obscene?"_ She echoed in disbelief, astounded that this ornery curmudgeon was the same unrestrained, impassioned lover that she'd once known. "Miles, when did you morph into such a crotchety killjoy who has a stick shoved so far up his rear that you could see it when he yawns?! Moreover, since when is maintaining focus been an issue for you – _ever?"_

_Since right about **now**! Since listening to sexually suggestive lyrics about wanting to touch … forbidden things, which is the **last** thing I need in my mind at this moment!_

"This is our premier time hearing from Ku since his pool party," he succinctly reminded her. "And I delivered _my_ end of the bargain and successfully had his requested shipment sent to Zheng Fa. It's now _his_ turn to hold up his end of the deal and give me what _I_ want. This is not something to be taken lightly, _Ms. Dallas._ If we are successful in arranging this initial shipment with Ku now that we've gained some of his trust, it can be the gateway we need to get to those cocoons."

"I'm well aware," she replied coolly, hating his withering, know-it-all tone but so relieved to have broken the eerie reticence that she was willing to overlook it. "I have my wire in position, and there are overhead, infrared camera drones buzzing overhead the Ku Mansion as we speak."

"Those only track heat and movement though," Miles frowned. "The surveillance won't be able to clearly see anything if Ku pulls a fast move on us."

"But _I_ will," she pointed out. "I have my purse revolver with me if need be _and_ I've been trained as a brown belt in karate if that lecher tries to try any sudden Kung-Fu moves on us! I think you've fallen victim to my persuasive performance and been a trifle _too_ convinced by my helpless bimbo front, Miles. You're forgetting I'm a highly skilled and trained Agent."

"This is your _first_ serious case!"

"I was a Detective in another lifetime too," she reminded him with a smug grin. "Don't you worry, playboy – you'll be safe around me!"

Miles wasn't so sure he _would_ be. Thus far, mentally and emotionally, he felt about as steady as a house made of a deck of playing cards. Which was why, up until then, he'd been trying to hold his alluring arm candy at arm's length so he could get a hold of himself.

"Did Carlos have nothing else in his arsenal at all? Something that could have covered you better?" He asked abruptly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "We are in the autumn season now, after all!"

"It's Indian summer," Lana retorted, stung at what she took as a pot-shot at her appearance, which bothered her more than she cared to let on. "I'm quite warm, although I can use my scarf as a wrap if need be. If you had such an issue with the _inappropriateness_ of my attire, I wish you'd spoken up back at the agency so I might have changed into something my suddenly conservative, pious Zen Monk colleague deemed more suitable!"

No answer from Miles, although she saw a muscle tense in his jaw. Lana didn't care. She was flat out pissed off!

"Or should I perhaps have asked Carlos to have given me a burqa instead, so as not to offend Mr. Holier Than Thous?" She derided. "Would _that_ have been more decorous for your puritanical sensibilities?"

It would have been a hell of a lot better for his senses if she had been wearing the traditional enveloping outer garment worn by women in some Islamic traditions to fully cover their bodies when in public, Miles reflected ruefully, running an agitated hand through his hair. Although being a convincingly sexy _babe in a burqa_ would have been a very hard feat to pull off, no matter how good an actress Lana was! As it was, her current outfit – her mere _presence!_ – was unnerving him, through no actual fault of her own. Nevertheless, the strain it created on him, on his psyche, was beginning to get to him!

Even worse was the way it was starting to impact his relationship with Franziska.

He still got a slight headache as he recalled the angry, tearful scene they'd had back at their hotel room back after they'd all parted ways post debriefing in August. His fiancée had repeatedly shrieked at him, insisting that he should be honest with her and confess to her what was going on between him and Lana. Elaborate about why he was acting like a possessive lover when there were no cameras around and explain why he'd seemed so rattled to hear that Lana was engaged to his former colleague, Jake Marshall.

Naturally, Miles had protested that Franziska was overreacting again. He'd claimed to have merely been flabbergasted to hear that Lana had plighted her troth given the unusual circumstances, what with her fiancé being presently incarcerated. This admission had been true for the most part, and then he'd gone on to say that he, of course, cared for his former boss – _as a person._ Ergo, as a gentleman, he'd been averse to any perturbing, unwanted advances made upon her. He'd then hastily added that have felt and reacted the same way on behalf of _any_ female in his presence suffering such conditions.

Unfortunately, his fiancée had refused to be mollified this time around.

"I have known you most of my life, Miles Edgeworth." Franziska's voice was cold, even though her pewter orbs were red with barely suppressed tears. "I have seen countless women throw themselves at you over the years and each time, you have remained unaffected, if not entirely _oblivious_ to them all, much like a horse brushing off pesky flies with its tail. What is it about this _Schlampe_ that rattles you so? Why is it _she_ brings out your protective instincts thus?"

"W –What's this?" Miles had stammered, having a creepy sense of déjà vu come over him. "D – Do I really inspire this sort of frothing desire from the female masses?"

"You know _verdammt gut_ you do!" Her brimming eyes narrowed. "Yet this has never been an issue until now! Who _is_ this _Frau_ whom you insist you only supposedly _worked under_ , hmm? You declared you had a crush on her – but is that _all_ it was?"

Miles swallowed. This was his chance. To confess everything to his fuming, expecting fiancée with the admitted (albeit questionable) jealousy issues that Lana and he had been _slightly_ more than just supervisor and subordinate.

However, in doing so, he would then risk having her blow a fuse that he hadn't fessed up earlier, and endure Franziska blowing down his neck like a fire-breathing dragon for the rest of the sting operation once her suspicions had been validated that he was posing as the lover of his actual _ex-lover._

Or, a safer bet would be to continue to play dodgeball with the questions and continue to give his hormonal swain all the reassurance and love in the world while fervidly hoping that her suspicions would eventually be put to rest at last.

It was quite the gamble, as much as it was the epitome of lose-lose situations. Given what a loose cannon Franziska was, and the fact that she was having his baby and he didn't want her to be further stressed or aggravated, he opted for the latter, cowardly though it was.

Flat out denial.

"Yes," Miles replied after what seemed like the world's most pregnant pause. "Yes, that's all it was."

It wasn't an _outright_ taradiddle, the barrister tried to convince himself. As far as feelings had gone, Miles was certain he and Lana hadn't harbored past the obsessive, lust-fueled phase. That constituted as _essentially_ the same thing as a crush, did it not?

Franziska's eyes misted over slightly then.

"I am very disappointed in you, Miles," she said softly. "I have always known you to be so truthful."

Then she'd turned around and walked into the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her.

A moment later, it'd opened again, followed by a blanket and pillow being hurled at him before immediately slamming shut again.

Miles had thence been reduced to sofa purgatory, with Pess as his only bedtime company, for the rest of the week.

Intimacy had completely faltered between the couple, as hard as he tried to instigate. Even his attempts to kiss his fiancée had been responded to with the driest, chastest, most _close-mouthed pecks_ in response.

Mile was right back square one – as the same sexless, sexually frustrated, and unfulfilled man he'd been circa four years ago _!_

Except that _this_ time around, instead of having to gratify himself to old memories from nearly a decade ago, _now_ he had to deal with seeing his former lover regularly, who was now engaged to the cuckolded fool she'd been cheating on with _him!_ Miles had to go great lengths to feign being oblivious to Lana's smoldering sexuality. Even worse, he had to pretend not to notice the impossible to deny sexual tension that still existed between them, something the ever perceptive Franziska had undoubtedly sensed from the start, which he didn't have enough excuses or apologies in the world for!

Worst of all, he had Lord knew how many more solo operations with his sexy ex, who on each excursion seemed to be dressed to the nines in skimpy garments that left little to the imagination!

_My flagrantly deprived self would have to be an actual Buddhist monk to not be affected by the constant visual titillation!_

It was the equivalent of waving a prime steak in front of a ravenous lion who had been forcibly famished for ages (after his extensive dry spells the last five years, two and a half months felt like a _lifetime_!) and then expecting him to not even take a _bite_!

Miles had no idea what he'd ever done to deserve such cruel and unusual punishment.

Nevertheless, Lana didn't deserve to have his frustrations taken out on her, and he knew he couldn't allow them to walk into the lion's den with any sort of palpable tension between them.

"I'm sorry Lana," he apologized now, pulling into the driveway of the manor and looking at her with a contrite expression. "I was completely out of line with what I said earlier. I don't know what's came over me."

Lana studied his face and saw only sincerity etched across his features. "I forgive you, _honey_ ," she said with a smile as she reached for her door handle. "This time around anyway. You ready for this, Mr. Banks?"

"I am, indeed." He came around her side of the car and extended his arm to her. _"Showtime."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocky Horror Picture Show – Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me


	54. The Coke Is A Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum of the heart."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_** _  
Huxi Manor, Cigar Lounge_  
October 13, 2024, 8:15 PM

The dinner served in Ku's magnificent, regal dining area, was sublime. On the finest of bone china plates and with gleaming silverware, they feasted on shrimp scampi, baby lamb chops, asparagus tips, then topped it all off with a perfectly heavenly cappuccino, which Miles, although he would have preferred tea, drank with no complaint.

Ku's companion that evening was a breathtaking Chinese woman, as undeterminable of age as the man himself, named Wong Li Tsong, although she insisted Lana and Miles call her Li. The exotic beauty's satiny, jet-black hair fell nearly to her waist, and her full lips were the same magenta color of her fitted, sleeveless sheath dress, which highlighted her delicate features and petite frame. She was apparently the daughter of some diplomat friend of Ku's, and while she smiled demurely and nodded when appropriate during the conversation, she said very little the whole time.

As Lana couldn't recall seeing Li at the party a couple of months ago, she surmised that the Asian female was the latest addition of living trophies in Ku's supposedly extensive collection. She was uncertain how much shop talk they would be able to do within Li's presence, but then gave a mental shrug and decided they could proceed unless otherwise directed. The drug lord was no fool – he surely wouldn't have opted to invite company that evening whom he didn't deem trustworthy.

The brunette sat rigidly on the white leather loveseat next to her undercover partner, unhurriedly sipping the cognac from the crystal tumbler the host had poured them. Erring on the side of caution this time, she had ensured that she'd eaten every savory morsel of dinner, while also vowing to make this glass of booze her _sole_ one. The last thing she needed was a repeat of last time and need to use Miles as a human crutch all night! She didn't think she could withstand _another_ virulent glare such actions would consequentially garner her from the every-watchful Franziska. The last scathing glower Lana had earned from the hawk-eyed German could have peeled paint!

That night, however, Lana was relieved to note that aside from kissing her hand upon greeting her and Miles earlier that evening, Ku had been on his most gentlemanly behavior. This was possibly due to the presence of the lovely Li, or simply because _Max_ , ensuring he clearly marked his territory this time, had made a point to have a possessive arm wrapped around _Debbie's_ shoulders the majority of the night.

"So, Mr. Ku," Miles began, setting his half-finished drink down on the glass coffee table. "That was a superb meal, and we are most grateful for the hospitality, but I think we can finally get down to business now, don't you?"

Ku blew three smoke rings out of his cigar, while with his free hand, he mimicked the prosecutor's action of looping an arm around his date's shoulders.

"Always so businesslike, Mr. Banks," the Chinese man smiled easily, stubbing the cheroot out in his ashtray on the glass table beside him. "I was sincerely hoping that we would have a chance to get to know one another better since I don't have dozens of guests to play host to this time. However, if you wish, we can most certainly cut to the chase. First things first, I wanted to thank you for holding up your end of the deal as agreed upon."

Ku discreetly gestured to the center of the table in silent directive to his uniformed maid, who had just entered with a silver tray full of what appeared to be white powdered donuts. He waited until the servant had placed the platter down, then left as stealthily as she'd arrived, before continuing.

"My associate in Zheng-Fa was most pleased indeed with the promptness of the arrival. I appreciate that you can be trusted."

"I'm a man of my word, Mr. Ku," Miles replied, shaking his head as Li rose and offered to pour him another drink. "Like I said before, whatever it takes to secure your utmost trust in me, consider it done."

"I can see that." A sly smile curled on Ku's lips as he gestured to the sweets on the table in front of them. "Why don't we all savor the saccharinity of this new partnership by having you indulge in the _sweetness_ that was your shipment?"

Miles' eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline as he stared at the powdered donuts and then back at his smirking host again.

"I _beg_ your pardon?"

"My brother owns the most successful chain of gourmet bakeries in all of Zheng-Fa," Ku informed them, his almond eyes dancing with amusement as a look of understanding dawned on both his guests' faces. "He sent these over to us, freshly baked this morning. They're topped with only the _finest icing sugar_ Asia has to offer."

The host reached over and took a bite of a snowy-topped pastry.

"Won't you join me in sampling these _decadent_ donuts?"

" _Donuts_?" Lana echoed, stunned.

" _Icing sugar_?" Miles repeated, dazed. "Are you telling me that the packed _50 kilos_ … the _1.5 million dollars'_ worth of what _you told me was_ _cocaine_ , which I had shipped out on my _private jet…"_

His incredulous voice trailed off and he grabbed his tumbler and took a large swallow of amber before he could continue speaking.

"…Was just _icing sugar?"_  
 _  
_"I had to ensure you were a man I could trust, Max Banks." Ku calmly took another bite of his donut, unfazed by the expression of unbridled indignation in Miles's eyes. "Obviously, now I have determined that I can. No harm was done, after all, in the taking of extra precautionary measures, right? What're a measly million dollars to a billionaire, after all? It would be the equivalent of losing a dollar to the general masses, hmmm?"

"The coke is a _lie?_ Er – was a lie, I mean?" Miles' heart dropped into his stomach. "Do you mean to tell me that I actually bribed the custom officials _thousands of dollars_ …For what turned out to be mere _baker's confectionary?"_

He took another long swig from his tumbler and barely swallowed back the urge to punch Ku's stupid, smug mug, right there and then.

_God's elbow! I'll never hear the end of this unforeseen snafu!_ _Lang will **never** let me live this down!_

Just then, he felt Lana's well-manicured fingertips firmly grasp his thigh, digging her nails in ever-so-slightly, as if cautioning him to keep calm. Knowing she was right; he acknowledged the silent prompt.

"One simply cannot put a price tag on trust, which most definitely has to be earned. A few meager dollars and having the proverbial egg on my face is ultimately meaningless if it means I passed your test! Nonetheless, that's quite the sense of humor you have, my good man! I mean, really… _confectioner's sugar?!_ Ha-ha!"

He took one more gulp of alcohol, then forced himself to emit a light-hearted laugh, and then Ku joined in until soon all four of them dissolved into gales of mirth at the madness of it all. The prosecutor finally took a bite of the dessert, which was, Miles hated to admit, quite tasty, despite the duplicity that had gone into making them.

"You're a funny man, Mr. Ku," the fake playboy drawled, sitting up straight in his seat and waving his finger at the other man, more in playful reprimand than in a warning. "All the same, you're a funny man who serves superlative donuts."

"Please forgive my underhanded whimsy." Ku wiped his fingertips on a napkin. "You can't imagine how a man in my renowned position is often the target of suspicion amongst narcs and federal agents, not to mention business rivals who would be most content to put a hindrance to my operations, once and for all."

"Of course," Lana murmured sympathetically, flashing a dazzling smile. "As you said, Mr. Ku, no harm, no foul."

"Indeed," Miles agreed. "And now that you have determined I am a man you can trust at any cost, could we perhaps go back to my initial request, which was, shall we say, 10 kilos?"

"Not a problem at all, Mr. Banks. The same rate applies. $350,000 in cash. I can arrange a shipment for you next week or so, shall we say?" Ku winked. "I shall see if I can expedite things in light of this slight… _inconvenience_."

"Sounds good."

Miles then proceeded to outline the details of the shipment, as he'd been instructed, while Ku, with steepled fingertips, listened intently the whole time, smiling and nodding. Finally, he turned to Li and murmured something in her ear. She nodded and left the room for a moment, only to return with a small glass ampoule and a mirrored tray.

Ku poured the contents of the vial onto the mirror, which he'd placed on the table, and made four lines with the edge of a playing card he swiped from his side table.

"As a celebration of our newfound partnership, what say we all take a little sample of the goods to prove there are no hard feelings? There's no better way to guarantee the quality of your shipment than firsthand knowledge, eh, Max?" He fished a $100 bill from his pocket and rolled it tightly before holding it up to Lana and Miles, who were trying to maintain their cool at this unpredicted turn of events. "Who would like to do the honors first?"

The logic enthusiast felt his mouth go dry. In his entire life, he'd never even touched a _cigarette_. He barely drank – for heaven's sake he _prosecuted_ men like Ku for a living! _How_ had his life come to this? He felt completely torn. There was Lang's golden rule of doing _whatever it took to seal the deal_ , but when it came to something of _this_ magnitude, which grossly went against his ethics … not to mention the _law_ …

He could sense Lana's disinclination as well; her unnervingly sharp talons were once again anxiously digging into his thigh.

"I'm afraid I must politely decline," Miles, at last, replied smoothly, his affixed smile never wavering. "As a businessman myself, I've never been one to eat out of my own pot, so to speak, and I prefer to keep myself in an unaltered state of mind at all times. I hope you can understand, Mr. Ku."

"Not only do I understand, but I _admire_ your stance." Ku eyed him with newfound respect. "I despise doing dealings with cokeheads and drug users. Only the weak dip into their personal proceeds. You have passed yet another test of mine, Max."

"I didn't become a billionaire by being a weak or foolish man." He barely stifled a sigh of relief at the reprieve he'd magically just earned himself. "I've never been one to partake in such indulgences if I think it means it could compromise my wits and interfere with my commerce matters, which is what I'm all about, first and foremost."

"Then whoever do you purchase the cocaine _for_ Mr. Banks?" Li asked then, completely out of the blue. Her sharp eyes were staring directly into his, almost as if in a challenge, despite the mildness of her tone. "You only buy, but _never_ use?"

"Madam, I am bewildered by your line of questioning," Miles countered smoothly. "Do you presume everyone who owns a liquor store is an _alcoholic_?"

Ku chuckled in response to the witty rebuttal, but Li's eyes narrowed, so the phony billionaire quickly amended his statement, flashing a dazzling smile as he did so.

"Without unnecessarily disclosing my confidential clientele, I _can_ profess that a big reason for my purchasing of the nose candy is for my fair lady here." He didn't even blink as he felt Lana's nails dig even harder into his thigh. "Debbie is _ever_ the party girl, after all, and I do like to keep my darling happy."

"Oh, I'm such a lucky girl," Lana ground out through gritted teeth as she forced a smile. "My sweetie here spoils me so!"

"Yes, well, it's not _all_ for her of course," Miles added as Li raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "As discussed, the requested shipment is to go to Cohdopia."

The Asian knockout nodded brusquely and handed the strained Interpol Agent the rolled-up bill.

"Then _you_ can enjoy Max's share, Miss Dallas," she instructed firmly, her meek tone now decidedly peremptory. "Ladies first!"

Lana gulped as she looked back and forth between Ku and Li, understanding the situation for exactly what it was. Miles had thrown her under the bus to save his own skin, and now there was no choice but for her to take up the slack or risk blowing their entire cover! After all, _"party girls"_ with _porn-star names_ would not typically be the sort to reject a free snort of premium angel dust!

_Grrr! Miles Edgeworth, you crafty son of a bitch!_ _I'll get you for this!_

"After you, Debbie," Ku beamed, inclining his head graciously. "As Li said, ladies first!"

The hired bimbo smiled weakly and reluctantly took the currency note from the sharp-eyed Li.

She had no choice. She was trapped.

_I was warned about the drugs they sell on the streets, the ones you could slip into my drink, and the ones that might become appealing to my eyes; however, they never prepared me for the one that comes with a smile._

Reluctantly leaning forward, she covered one nostril, then inhaled first one line, then the other one, which had previously been reserved for Miles.

Having never done cocaine in her life, the ex-detective wasn't sure what to expect as she leaned back against the cushions, dimly aware of Li, and then Ku, partaking in their share while Miles indulged in a second glass of cognac from the crystal decanter, apparently so he wouldn't look like too much of a stuffed shirt in comparison.

Lana sat there tensely, experiencing the initial drip sensation in her throat, sort of like a constant after-taste, as well as nasal congestion. After a few minutes, a warm feeling came over her body, with a tingly sensation in her limbs.

This was nothing like her school days at all when all she'd ever done was try a hit of acid. And even that had only been a couple of times. Everyone was doing it then, and she hadn't taken much. There had been moving lights and geometric patterns, which she'd watched in a detached way. Afterward, she'd wondered what all the talk about cosmic profundity had been about, though she hadn't wanted to say anything. People were very competitive about the meaningfulness of their drug trips in those days.

She wasn't sure what to expect next. Certainly not the unexpected burst of feeling more energetic, awake, and _happy_ …

…Not to mention _sexier_ and charged with _unignorably lusty proclivities!_

Lana turned her head and gazed sultrily at Miles, who was eyeing her anxiously. She flashed a vixenish smile, reached out, and ran her fingers through his silky, obsidian hair. He jolted a bit at the unforeseen contact slightly but remained still.

_God help me, his hair is so deliciously thick, my fingers disappear into the locks…_

She just couldn't seem to stop touching her undercover partner. Stroking the back of his neck and face and hair ….

_It's all so smooth. So masculine. So familiar. So…perfect._

Ku smiled knowingly as Lana sat back up and pressed herself against Miles' side.

The prosecutor stiffened slightly as Lana's firm curvaceous body pressed into his, but while he didn't reciprocate her bold caresses, he didn't pull away, either.

He wasn't entirely sure if he _wanted_ to, even if he _hadn't_ been under the watchful eyes of Li and Ku, and risked blowing their cover!

_This is getting too real. The lines between fantasy and real-life are beginning too damned blurry now…and I'm not even sure if the copious amount of alcohol in my system is reason to blame!_

"It's a wonderful feeling, sharing this experience with new friends," Ku announced, lifting his glass in a toast. Then he stopped himself. "Wait, what am I doing? We should be toasting with the finest! Li, go tell the maid to get me a bottle of my best vintage from the cellar!"

His companion nodded, dabbing at her nose, and with a congenial smile now replacing her earlier suspicious expression, left the room, just as Ku's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and frowned.

"Apologies, but I've been expecting this call. Most important. Please excuse me, I shouldn't be too long."

The drug lord quickly left the room as well then, quietly shutting the French doors shut behind him.

Miles turned to Lana the moment they were alone, gently taking her roaming hands into his own, as she'd graduated from stoking his hair to running her fingers over every inch of his visage, much like a sculpture artist trying to memorize every line and crevice. He managed to stop her as her nails began tracing the sensitive skin of his earlobe, and he fought back a shiver.

Undaunted, she plastered herself to him, kissing every inch of his face hungrily, devouring his neck, earlobes, throat. He broke free with muscular ease, trying to squelch the conflicting memories and desires stirring within that her hands and lips brought back to him.

_"L -_ _Darling_ …" he whispered, feeling beyond remorseful. It was his fault she was in this state. "Please ... don't. This isn't _you_ – it's the drugs. I'm so sorry…I had no choice…"

"Sorry for what, _honey_?" She purred, wrestling her hands away from his. "I haven't felt this _good_ in ages. I only wish _you_ could have partaken with me so you'd know _how_ good I'm feeling right _now_."

She rose from the loveseat and stood before him, so he couldn't look away, even if he'd wanted to tear his eyes away from her lithe, taut frame, so aptly displayed in that dress.

Aware of his fixated eyes on her, Lana slowly unwrapped the scarf from her neck and ran in down her collarbone to her exposed cleavage, a naughty glint in her eye as she did so. She had never undressed like this before. The shyness, the feeling of inner panic, the dizziness, all that she had always felt when undressing in front of the younger man – it was all gone. She was now standing in front of him, self-confident, insolent, bathed in light, and astonished at her impulsive discovery of the gestures, heretofore unknown to her, of a slow provocative striptease.

Suddenly, she bent over and looped her scarf around the back of his neck like a lasso, drawing him towards her until they were eye to eye, noses touching.

" _Miss_ _Dallas_ ," Miles whispered, at a loss for words as he breathed in her familiar lavender scent. "You're unbelievable."

"This is the role of a _lifetime_ , Max," she whispered back. "How about I demonstrate just how _believable_ I can be, then?"

He barely had time to process what the lasciviousness on her face meant. Miles didn't know what was wrong or right anymore. He _loved_ Franziska … yet it had been _so long_ since he'd felt a woman's touch…and Lana…was _Lana_.

Moreover, he wasn't Miles Edgeworth right now. He was _Max Banks_ and Lana was _Debbie Dallas_ and they were supposed to remain in character at all cost.

Never had he ever felt conflicted between his morals, his lust, and his duties.

What if he drew back and Ku were to come in, then suspiciously inquire why he was resisting his sexy girlfriend's horny, drug-addled advances? Or would it be _worse_ if the drug lord returned and he and Lana were _in flagrante delicto_ –

Before he could finish his diverged thoughts, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him back to her, crushing her lips to his. He made a muffled sound of surprise in the back of his throat, hesitating for a heartbeat before his mouth opened against hers. And then they were kissing for real – clumsily at first, as they felt each other out, but then she shifted forward into his lap, falling against his chest and tipping her head down, and it was like two puzzle pieces snapping into place.

They were beyond the present, outside time, with no memories and no future. There was nothing but obliterating sensation, thrilling and swelling, and the sound of fabric on fabric and skin on fabric as their limbs slid across each other in this restless, sensuous wrestling.

She felt strange and wild. Her body was just a collection of organs. She was blood and plumbing, like any other creature, and there was nothing that was forbidden about any of it. She gnawed on Miles ravenously, like an animal ravaging its prey, and when she had had enough of that she swung her leg over him, like a rider swinging into a saddle, and galloped.

There wasn't a moment of hesitation. His mouth was on hers, and she stopped breathing. He shuddered and there was a sound from the back of his throat, half growl, half moan. Little shivers of pleasure and shock shot through her as he deepened the kiss, parting her lips. She stopped thinking. She pressed against him, digging her fingers into his soft, silky hair once more. Nothing else about him felt that way – his body was all hard, masculine planes. She sparked alive; her heart swelled to the point of near bursting. The rush of sensations crawling across her body was maddening. Scary. Thrilling.

His hands were on her hips, and he lifted her up as if she were made of air. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and they moved to the right of the loveseat, knocking into a floor lamp. It toppled over, but neither spared it another thought. Their lips remained sealed. It was like they couldn't get enough of each other. They were devouring one another, drowning in each other.

And she didn't just let it happen. She pushed it further, opening her mouth and letting his tongue find hers. She didn't care that they were locked in a clinch on some drug lord's leather couch, or that the stubble on his chin was scratching her face. At this moment, in her cocaine-fueled euphoria, every ounce of care she had in the world was replaced by desire.

A satisfied sigh escaped Lana's mouth; as if she were content to stay in his arms forever.

Miles took over control as soon as she tilted her head. Their lips touched for the briefest moment before he laced his fingers in her hair and kept kissing, now softer and gentler. He cupped her cheek in his palm, feeling her baby-soft skin against his fingers. His body urged him to take advantage of the situation, but his brain (the one inside his head) kept him in check.

He brushed the tip of his tongue against her lips, enticing her to open her mouth again. She tentatively met his tongue with her own. Their mouths and tongues mingled in a slow, erotic dance until the sound of the door opening brought them crashing back to reality.

Lana had fantasized about what it'd be like to kiss Miles again over the past few months, way more than she cared to admit. But she didn't even have time to register what had just transpired between them as without breath, upon hearing the sound at the door, he pulled back. His face froze, eyes wide with 'oh shit' written across them. Maybe she'd have been offended if she wasn't so sure that her own expression matched his perfectly.

"I shouldn't have done that," she blurted out, her voice muffled against his ear. "I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "You really are."

Lana allowed herself to breathe, and vaguely realized she was sitting on top of Miles in a position that was little, uh, friendly. She motioned to get up, but he put his hand on her waist, and one of his hands fell across the inside of her knee, cautioning her to act natural and not jump away like a guilty teenager as they glanced up and saw Ku's girlfriend standing in the doorway. Li's fair cheeks were slightly pink at the realization at the intimate moment she'd unwittingly burst in on.

"My apologies for interrupting you lovebirds," the Chinese femme tittered, covering her mouth with her hand. "Wa Sing just wanted me to let you know that he's just about to wrap up his call, and the maid is just uncorking the wine right now. We'll be right back. I'll give you both a moment to … recover. That blow is something else, isn't it?"

With another winsome smile, she graciously inclined her head towards them again and discreetly bowed her way out again.

_Hell's teeth! The cocaine_ _!_ Lana inwardly groaned. _Oh, good Lord, what have I **done**?_

She turned her head back to Miles' face, hovering inches from her. His expression was so open and understanding and sympathetic that her throat closed just looking at it.

And just like that, it was over. They didn't dare look at each other as they got up, and she was gladdened and relieved because even without a mirror, she could _feel_ what a hot mess she must look like right now!

The spell had been shattered with Li's interruption. Neither of them was sure if they were more relieved … or _chagrined_.

But they _were_ both sure about one thing … nothing would _ever_ be the same again.


	55. The Edge Of Misanthropy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The worst thing you can be is a coward, to the self, to others, to Mother Earth. For the coward will sacrifice anything to save the physical self, even at the price of emotional death; they are willing to become a monster, to let the dark-self live where their true-self once did. So be determined, my love - brave, yet never fool-hardy. Stay alive, be healthy, love with all your heart, but stay on the road that is empathy and compassion, love and fraternity with a determination that will take death over failure. Have the spirit of a child, yet the nobility of a true warrior, always protective and kind."

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_** **  
**October 12, 2024, 7:45 AM

For the past five years, Phoenix had been lulled into a somewhat sense of security and contentment in life. Things weren't perfect of course, but his life wasn't _completely_ horrible.

He'd faked his way so well into the role of musician that he actually was now deemed a somewhat a _passable_ pianist at work and thence, now rarely got booed from the crowd. Henceforth, he hadn't needed to placate them with his singing all that often.

On top of that, he'd remained undefeated as a poker player – mostly due of course, to Trucy's special talents. Money-wise, things were OK, albeit not _great_ , between the income of her magician job as well as his own. The Gumshoes were still doting extended family to them both, and he'd kept in regular email correspondence with Edgeworth, even hearing the occasional phone call from him too, which was always a pleasure. Most of all, thanks to the kindness of his best friend, he had a safe-house where he could spend at least two weekends a month, (and sometimes more!) with the love of his life.

There were times when the former attorney would be lying there in that obscenely large bed, breathing in Maya's familiar fragrant scent as he stroked the long, glorious, ebony hair that he so loved to caress, and he wondered if he wasn't insane to be keeping his girlfriend still in hiding all this time; if he shouldn't just have Trucy meet her "future Mommy." After all, Edgeworth, despite having "feelers" out there regarding the Gavins had yet to come up with anything conclusive – he'd even told him a couple of years ago to ease back on investigating, despite Edgeworth's frustrated protests that he was being a simpleton about the whole thing and was allowing himself to fall victim of being overly complacent.

However, the DILF remained stubborn on the matter. Life was alright for him right now, and he'd resigned himself, somewhat, to let sleeping dogs lie – for now, anyway. He didn't want his best friend to be wasting his precious time and efforts for naught and was certain if there _had_ been anything worth finding of the Gavins, surely _something_ would have come up by now, or he would have found out through his _own_ subtle researching.

He wasn't particularly forthcoming or amicable with regards to his own 'investigations'. Oh, he'd shared what he'd learned with the prosecutor for a time, but irrationally, he ultimately hesitated regarding the blond man.

Over the years, the card shark hadn't seen much of Kristoph at all; perhaps once or twice every quarter at his bar if that, since the day he'd convinced the German that he and Maya were ancient history. The German's absence in his life dimmed his initial doubt somewhat; while his gut still gave him misgivings about the defense attorney, Phoenix wondered at times if he'd been irrational for thinking the worst of the other man.

The ever-suspicious Edgeworth was certain Kristoph had framed the anterior defense lawyer, despite there being no conclusive proof or evidence. He appeared to be struggling with the comprehension of his childhood friend's reluctance to pin absolute blame on the sinister German.

_We haven't got total proof, maybe he didn't do it_ , the spiky-haired man had gamely persisted, which completely irritated Edgeworth, even though he thought he understood.

Ultimately, in spite of the curveballs and hardships he'd endured, the painful truth was that the hobo had somehow still managed to maintain much of his old naïve, trusting streak; still held out with some vague faith or hope that perhaps unconfirmed damaging allegations against people weren't true – maybe not _everyone's_ motivations were truly malevolent.

_Anguished heart attack is tightly packed onto people with actions full of emotions and personal tragedies, yet they can overcome it with personal self-esteem and nice thinking._

In the depths of his psyche, which his bursts of love and joy with Maya and Trucy allowed him mostly suppress, Phoenix knew Kristoph was a murderous betrayer. However, his unassuming heart still clung to the last remnant of what Edgeworth curtly referred to his _Platonist idealism_ ; his desperate need to believe that sometimes people _weren't_ driven exclusively by individual advantage and that _maybe_ one _'friend'_ really _did_ believe in giving him a chance. It was somehow symbolic, that idealistic streak of his worldview, which he knew he was losing, but was reluctant to do so.

Until then, the pianist had maintained the passion he'd had as a defense attorney; kept that trait of his ever since even though he was a lawyer no longer because he'd always wanted – _no, needed_ – to have faith in the conceivable good in people. He was still largely in renunciation because deep down, he knew he neither could nor _should_ , anymore ... But he so badly wanted to postpone the bitter acknowledgment that the idealism _had_ been crushed out of him, that his attitude to humanity and its motivations were now cynical and negative by default.

_Despite all the bad days and mean people, I still believe in good days and kind people. Plus, there are always dogs…_

The last time they'd spoken on the phone, he and Edgeworth had gotten into a brief head-butting reminiscent of their courtroom days.

"God's blood, Wright! You know that I know that you know that I know that Gavin did it!"

"We don't _know_ that for sure!" The poker champ stated for the trillionth time with a sigh, as he gently rolled away from the embrace of the still-slumbering Maya and tiptoed into the bathroom for privacy. "Evidence is everything, remember? And until we have it, this nothing more than pure conjecture."

_I cannot convict a man based on the fact that he favors random stalker-themed songs by The Police and overall gave me the heebie-jeebies with his constantly knowing of my whereabouts at one point. Lots of people freaked me out in the past! Dr. Hotti the fake! Jean Armstrong the fake Frenchman! And they were harmless! Sure, they make you queasy to talk to or look at them, but it doesn't make them crazed criminals…._

"Cease this tommyrot! Of _course_ , he did it, you fool!" The slate-haired man snapped in frustration. "Either that or _you_ did it! Or are you attempting to merely dispel your _own_ guilt?"

The words stung like a slap.

"I thought _you_ of all people, believed in me, Edgeworth."

"I believe you're so merrily, _madly in love_ , and basking in the glow of your weekends at _the love shack_ that you've got _willing_ blinders on," the former Demon Prosecutor replied curtly. "Either that or you've just flat out gone _mad!"_

"Maya has _nothing_ to do with my desire to just want to let things be for now!" The card shark exclaimed with exasperation, although not completely convincingly. "Forgive me for not sharing your prosecutor's constant state of suspicion and overall belief that everyone in the world sucks and is out to _get_ me all for the sake of their own personal gain and vendetta!"

While it wasn't _entirely_ untrue that his girlfriend was mostly in the dark about the Kristoph Gavin situation, she was also still his _very last beacon of hop_ e _,_ his last tangible piece of something pure and good from his old life, which had kept him from falling back into that wallowing, self-pitying, misanthrope he'd immediately been post-disbarring.

"That's a load of malarkey, and we both know it!" Edgeworth grumbled. "This incomprehensible,

_trite_ level of Pollyannaism and naïveté was somewhat endearing in your 20's, Wright, but you're in your _30's_ now! You can still be a good father and boyfriend even if you _finally_ break those _blasted rose-colored glasses_ of yours!"

The hobo knew it took a lot to make his calm, level-headed best friend become this riled up, and he felt terrible about being the cause of it. Even if he didn't fully agree with him, he was touched that Edgeworth cared so much.

"Look, I'm not trying to be difficult, and I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful," he mumbled awkwardly. "I know you only have my own best interests at heart and are only trying to help."

"Forget it, Wright." The logic genius sighed too; he was way beyond holding onto resentments. "It's fine … while I'm happy for my part in helping you and Miss Fey get some of the happiness you surely deserve, it is only a _Band-Aid solution_ to your underlying situation, _not_ a _long-term_ one! I dreadfully sense the years have made you forget the fact that there was a preliminary _reason_ you needed to _maintain the secret_ of this clandestine love affair of yours!"

That stung even more than the first remark. Didn't the truth _always_ hurt? And wasn't the reason he revered the prosecutor's friendship so much was because he'd always given it to Phoenix straight, even if it was painful?

"You're right," he admitted quietly. "Indeed, to some degree, I know that I've just been purposefully duping myself. That's because I've accepted an even _harsher_ truth than any that you could ever dish out at me, old friend."

"Really, and whatever would that be?" Edgeworth demanded, sounding surprised at the abrupt change in his tone.

"I have to accept I won't ever clear my name," the pianist stated flatly. "I am 90% sure, although not completely beyond a reasonable doubt, that Kristoph did it; just as much as I also realize that there's _nada_ you or I can do to _legally_ prove it. _Nothing_. I've wasted all this time and had all this paranoia and now I'm trapped. And why? For what purpose?"

The cravat wearer started at the suddenly resigned desolateness in his friend's tone. Good Lord, what had he _done_?

"Listen, Wright..." he began awkwardly, but the anterior defense lawyer cut him off.

"It doesn't matter, Edgeworth. Because even if I did become an attorney again, I could never again fully believe in my clients. Not really."

And it was these last, desolate words ringing in the chess lover's ear that the gloomy, and evidently not as gullible as initially perceived Phoenix Wright then murmured his final words of goodbye and rang off.

The startled legal eagle sat there, still holding the cell in his hand, feeling not at all mollified that he'd forced his friend to see the light. Had he been wrong to try to crack Phoenix's idealistic, sanguine streak after all? Had he, somehow in his desperation to ensure his best friend didn't become completely delusional to the grim reality of his plight, _broken_ the other man's spirit entirely? Because that had _never_ been his intention!

Well, as stubborn as Phoenix Wright was – after all, this was the _same man_ who had ingested

_poison_ for his serial killer ex-girlfriend, despite all the glaring evidence before his face that Dahlia not only _betrayed_ him but tried to _kill_ him! – he wasn't the _only one_ who could be steadfast with his stubborn beliefs.

A few weeks later, Edgeworth was back to investigating Wright's case, but to Phoenix himself, he left this obscured.

After all, what would be the point?

Once Phoenix Wright made up his _thick-skulled, mulish mind_ about something, not even the hounds of hell could move him to change it – sometimes, not until it was too late.


	56. The Cups Runneth Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Did you really think Phoenix's misadventures in fatherhood were over? I don't know why I get such sadistic pleasure out of torturing my favorite guy, but I know I was snickering my BUTZ off writing this final puberty peril featuring the horrors of Nick having to buy Trucy her first bra as my last installment of Phoenix's struggles of being a Papa! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Stupidity is a talent for misconception"

_**Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright  
**_ _Wright Talent Agency_  
October 13, 2024, 4:14 PM

Despite being dragged back to earth about his not-so-ideal loss of badge situation and Kristoph Gavin admittedly being the probable cause of it, Phoenix's overall outlook about life was still positive for the most part. Pertaining to fatherhood, in comparison, he was downright chipper, as Trucy was, for the most part, a parent's dream as a daughter.

After the infamous dual destinies that had simultaneously ricocheted both Pearls and Trucy into womanhood under his very roof, the pianist had somehow, foolishly, convinced himself he had done his due time. That he'd successfully surpassed the all embarrassing hardships of fatherhood now that his little girl was 13, and that the most traumatic of it was over.

It wasn't as if he was _intentionally_ being naïve about the strife that came with being a single parent of a young girl. He'd known it wouldn't be _easy_. He'd even read the articles online in hopes to get some  
insight – along with some very effective _brain bleach_ sites to erase both the mortifying _DILF/PMS_  
incidents shortly thereafter.

All things considered, he'd prided himself somewhat on having dealt with the whole _sexy_ at the pool debacle and the entire period fiascos with _some_ level of aplomb. Therefore, as Trucy veered into adolescence, Phoenix assumed he now could take a slight step back, as the worst of it all had passed, and just reap the rewards of having raised a mostly well-behaved, happy daughter. A little girl who, although teetering on the brink of womanhood – now that he'd mastered the fine art of nodding, smiling, and staying the _hell_ out of her way when Nature's Fury reared its ugly monthly head! – was still generally mature, helpful and delightfully low-maintenance, her voracious growing appetite notwithstanding!

Just how _wrong_ could a person be?

The _worst_ , it seemed, was _yet_ to _come_.

"Daddy, I need to talk to you," Trucy told him nervously, for once barely pecking at her after school snack, which she normally demolished in seconds.

Phoenix furrowed his brow. He'd tried his hand at baking some blueberry muffins lately – after all, he'd mastered the art of pancakes now after the first dozen had been written off at as charred Frisbees. He'd figured muffins would be the next step – and while his first few attempts had been dryer than chalk dust and/or overly hardened hockey pucks, he'd figured this latest batch was at least edible. And his daughter claimed she loved his muffins.

So then why had she left his latest attempt at creativity – a blueberry lemon muffin – go untouched?

_Oh dear Lord don't tell me_ _ **another**_ _one of her teachers was saying inappropriate things about me_ _ **again**_ _!_ He thought wildly. _Do I need her to send her to a Catholic school taught by actual_ _ **nuns**_ _and pray the_ _ **pious sisters**_ _would at least have more appropriate conduct?_

"What is it, Truce?" He asked wearily. "You can talk to me about anything, you know that."

_My_ _**insides** _ _may_ _**quell** _ _at hearing some of those things, but it_ _**is** _ _my parental duty to grin and bear it after all…_

"Well, we've started co-ed gym this year…" Trucy mumbled, absently breaking off a piece of the muffin top and popping it into her mouth, not looking at him in the eye. "And we were playing volleyball against the boys…and lately, it's been kind of _hurting_ me whenever I've had to jump up for the ball, you know? And my gym uniform has been becoming a wee bit tight lately…"

Phoenix cast a quick, appraising eye at his tiny daughter's rail-thin form in surprise. Had he somehow shrunken her clothes in the wash? She didn't appear to have gained even a pound as far as _he_ could tell…

"Um…in my _chest_ area, Daddy," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper as her cheeks turned pink. "It really hurt today when the ball hit me there … the gym teacher told me to tell you that I need to get a bra."

_A bra?!_

Phoenix cleared his throat uncomfortably and fought back the urge to smack himself in the forehead for being so completely _daft_ and blind. Of _course_ , his baby girl was growing up! Why hadn't he thought of this before?

Because he was a single father and … Trucy hadn't exactly come with an instruction _manual_ _?_

Also, there were few people he could consult about this without feeling like some sort of _weirdo_. The Gumshoes, after all, had a _son_ , and Tyler's twin girls were only in kindergarten. Sure, Maya was guardian to Pearls, but exactly how exactly did one bring up the discomfiting topic, (without coming across as some sort of Dr. Hotti creeper/pervert) if little Pearls was _wearing a bra yet_ and _for how long_?!

"Don't worry about it, baby girl," he assured her. "Whatever you need. We'll take you shopping at Lordly Tailor tonight. Uncle Larry is coming to take us out to dinner, and he can drive us to the store right after."

"I can't go shopping tonight, Daddy," Trucy reminded him. "After dinner, I need to get to work at the Wonder Bar."

"Oops, I forgot! Sorry, Truce, at my old age, it's hard to keep track of my _own_ work schedule, never mind _yours_!" Phoenix flashed a sheepish grin. "Did you want to go shopping maybe tomorrow night? No wait, _I'm_ working then…"

His forehead creased as he mentally ran over the rest of the week, and found to his dismay neither of their work schedules would align for the rest of the days after. This was quite the proverbial pickle they were in!

"Daddy, you're so silly! You're not _that_ old!" Trucy giggled. "The problem is, I have gym class every day! It's going to be so uncomfortable for me to participate unless I get some sort of… _support_ , you know? Do you think maybe you and Uncle Larry could get a bra for me tonight?"

Her father moaned inwardly.

_Ugh, I was hoping she_ _**wouldn't** _ _say that!_

He'd never gone bra-shopping in his _life_ , not even with a girlfriend. And thanks to Maggey's gargantuan Costco supply of feminine products the year before, despite being reluctantly schooled in the matter, he'd _still_ not yet needed to pick up any embarrassing _monthly_ _necessities_ for his daughter as of yet.

Nevertheless, it looked like life was only going to let him play dodge-ball with humiliation for so long…

Should he ask Gumshoe's wife to come along?

Nah. He'd be fine. He'd bought Trucy roller skates before. _Ladies_ skates, too! So really, how difficult could it be to buy a _bra_ _?_

"Of course we can, baby girl," Phoenix reassured her, forcing a smile. "I'm sure Uncle Larry won't mind at all!"

_Mostly, because I'm not exactly going to give him a_ **_choice_ _!_ **

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Larry Butz**_ __  
Lordly Tailor Department Store  
October 14, 2024, 6:30 PM

"I thought you hated shopping Nick," Larry said as they entered the doors of the large, multi-level department store. "What did you need to buy?"

"Nothing for _me_ in particular," Phoenix hedged, smiling as Adrian Andrews walked up to them, a friendly smile on her lovely face.

"Are we here for a gift for a _special someone_?" Larry asked slyly, nudging him discreetly in the side, while still carefully refraining from mentioning Maya by name.

"Well, I _am_ here to pick up something for a _very special_ little lady."

"I should have figured as much since you made me drive you to the fanciest and most expensive department store in all of Los Angeles!"

Phoenix ignored the comment and smiled pleasantly at the pretty blonde, still as immaculately groomed as ever, with her dark blonde topknot and wire-rim glasses over warm brown eyes, which were now regarding him with curiosity and surprise as recognition in his hobo attire finally dawned on her.

"Phoenix Wright, is that _you_?"

"In the flesh, Adrian."

"Well stranger, long time no see!" She exclaimed, reaching over and giving him an unexpected, effusive hug before doing to the same to Larry, who looked as happy as puppy with two tails at being in the vicinity of an attractive female. "And Larry, so nice to see you too! What are you guys doing here?"

"Every six years or so I figure you're owed a visit," Phoenix joked. "I figured I was due a quick check to see if you had any more special exhibits in motion? I'm partial to the urn variety as you know."

"Yes, because the last one _wasn't_ a complete unmitigated disaster!" She laughed. "By the way, how is Maya doing? She's got that urn in a safer place now, I should hope?"

"She's just fine, I expect," Phoenix replied serenely, his poker face betraying nothing. "She left about five years ago to become master of her village but appears to be doing quite well, from what her cousin Pearls tells us. She and my daughter Trucy are best friends, and the two get together whenever she comes down to the city to visit."

"A _daughter_?" While decorum had kept her from bringing up anything with regards to his disbarring, Adrian was unable to conceal her stunned reaction to this news. "H – how nice…um, when did you get married?"

"He's not," Larry intervened, never one to enjoy not partaking in conversation, even ones with naught to do with him. "Nick here is a single Papa."

" _Single_?" Adrian pushed her glasses up her nose and gave a shy, appreciative smile. "I can't imagine _why_! Phoenix, I didn't think it was possible, but you look like you've gotten even _fitter_ since the last time I saw you. Working out really seems to agree with you!"

Phoenix blushed at the unexpected compliment and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Apparently, Trucy's _horny teachers_ had been correct in the fact that his bulky sweatsuit didn't hide the results of his daily jogging or exercising whatsoever!

"Thanks, Adrian," he murmured bashfully. "Actually, that's the reason we're here. I need to pick up something for my daughter. Can you tell us where the girl's department is?"

"Well, children's clothing is on the second floor…"

"Oops, sorry I should have clarified, Trucy is 13. Definitely not in kid's clothing anymore, heh, heh."

"She's _13_?" Adrian repeated, her eyes widening as she did the mental math. "Um, I didn't know you had a daughter when I saw you last? You must have had her when you were a _teenager_ then?"

"Trucy's adopted," Larry offered, deciding to put the poor woman out of her misery with all these bombshells. "Cute as a button, really."

"Oh, I see," she said, all smiles again. "Well, then you need the Junior Miss department, which is next to ladies wear on the third-floor level."

"Is that where they have the…" Phoenix wracked his mind for the right word. " _Underclothing garments_ as well?"

"It is indeed. Happy shopping, you two. See you around."

"See you later, Adrian," Phoenix waved as she walked off, just as Larry looked at his friend in alarm as he digested what he'd just said.

" _Underclothing garments_?" He echoed, his eyes widening in panic. "You didn't tell me we were shopping for _that_ , Nick!"

Phoenix shrugged as he yanked his friend's shirt and tugged him towards the escalators. "You didn't ask."

" _Nuh-uh_! _No way_ , José!" Larry struggled to pull himself free from Phoenix's clasp. "You made me endure that whole _dueling cyclone_ that was Trucy and Pearl last year, and then forced me to stick around – and get insulted by Maggey! – during that whole lecture on _things with wings_ …but _this_ is just too much!"

He wrestled free and shook his head, already starting to walk downwards on the ascending escalator.

"Nothing doing, Nick! _This_ is where I draw the line!"

Without warning, Phoenix stepped down and easily grabbed the back of Larry's collar, as though he were a scruffy dog, and jerked him back up next to him again on the moving stairway, ignoring the other man's choking gasps of protests as he did so.

"Nick! _Stawp_ _!_ I can't _breathe_!"

Phoenix relaxed his grasp enough to allow Larry oxygen but maintained his tenacious grip. "If you want to breathe, all you need to do is stop struggling, Larry," he said calmly as they reached the second-floor landing and took the next escalator headed upwards to the third floor. "You know, _you're_ the one who makes these things unnecessarily hard on _yourself_."

"And _you're_ the one who makes _unnecessary use of those muscles_ Adrian was admiring!" Larry scowled as Phoenix released him and rubbed his poor, abused windpipe. "Talk about your _abuse of strength_ , you big bully!"

"This isn't exactly _my_ ideal way to spend one of the rare evenings you're in town either, Larry." Phoenix shrugged again but this time he flashed an impish grin. "In fact, am sure this will be an experience that _rivals_ last years' on the excruciating scale, which I look forward to about as much as a month in the dentist chair! However, you are my oldest pal … and what is it they say? Buddies, who _suffer_ together, _stay_ together?"

"Well then this incident should take us through to our golden years," Larry grumbled as they arrived at their destination floor and looked around. "Look, there's the Junior Miss section in the far corner, can we just hurry up and get this over with already?"

"I have no desire to prolong this either, you know." Phoenix strode over to the section and then looked further into the aisle in search of the underwear section. "The sooner we find Trucy her training bra, the sooner we can leave."

"And then hopefully participate in a somewhat less emasculating activity, like playing pool or going for beers, I hope!" Larry flipped through some of the boxes stacked neatly on display and looked up questioningly at Phoenix. "I don't even know what I'm looking for here, Nick! What size is Trucy?"

"Size?"

"Yeah, Nick, you know, her _cup_ size? Of her _bra_?"

"Howdy, y'all. Can I give ya fellas a hand?"

Phoenix froze at the sound of the familiar voice behind him.

_No way! It_ _**can't** _ _be! God_ _**couldn't** _ _hate me that much!_

Yet when the blushing former defense attorney turned around, there, _fully clothed_ , in a chic navy women's business suit, stood Tiffany Pierce.

Otherwise known to him as the normally scantily-clad, friendly neighborhood Borscht Bowl waitress.

_Oh, boy. This is going to be even more harrowing than I thought._ He cast a quick surreptitious glance heavenward and shook his head at the Man upstairs. _You've got_ _ **quite**_ _the twisted sense of humor, don't you?_

"Um, hey Tiffany," he gulped, his cheeks warm. "Fancy running into _you_ here."

It was a Godsend that he _hadn't_ brought Trucy with him! The _last_ thing Phoenix needed was his daughter asking Tiffany if _she_ was going to be her _new mommy_! Or perhaps even worse, ask the waitress if she thought her Daddy was _se_ _xy!_ He wasn't sure he _or_ his daughter would be prepared to hear the potentially traumatizing answer to that!

"I work here Mondays through Wednesday, stud," Tiffany winked. "Although I reckoned this would be the last place _I'd_ be bumping into _yer_ fine behind!"

_Why do I have the inexplicable urge to run away screaming?_

Although he and Tiffany had made peace years ago and were in friendly enough terms at the bar, the hobo had always tried to maintain his distance and keep his personal and work life separate from the still slightly too flirtatious blonde. He saw Maya often enough now to make fleeting thoughts of temptation have diminished almost entirely, yet the server's overt sexuality and saucy winks still made him feel a trifle nervous around her.

Like now, as the bombshell's heavily made-up eyes scrutinized him from head to toe then back up again, before drifting over to Larry, who was still clutching a package with picture of a baby-pink brassiere on it, with _"My First Training Bra"_ written on it while gawking back at her with a thunderstruck expression.

Suddenly, a look of understanding dawned on Tiffany's tanned face, and her full lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"Well, come to think of it, maybe I shouldn't be as lost as last year's Easter egg after all," she drawled. "This actually makes things _one helluva lot of sense_ , now that I think of it!"

She nodded in approval at the now guilty-looking, flustered artist, who'd dropped the package back on the table as if it were a hot potato.

"Good call, suga. That fo sho wasn't yer color at _all_!"

"Hey!" Larry yelped indignantly. "That wasn't for _me_ , it was for _Nick_ , here!"

"I'm not judging ya, sweetie!" Tiffany tittered and waved her scarlet-tipped hand. "In this here modern day and age, it's no longer considered a sin to be Light in the Loafers! Well, maybe to the Baptist church it is, but this _is_ LA... we're a fair bit away from Birmingham anyway…"

"W- what?" Larry spluttered. "Nick, _say_ something! Tell your friend here that _you and I_ …that _we_ , so totally _are not_ …"

" _Confirmed bachelors_?" Tiffany arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms around her tremendous bosom, which strained against the buttons of her white shirt. " _Friends of Dorothy?"_

"Larry's telling the truth, Tiffany," Phoenix, at last, found his voice. "We were shopping for _me_. Well, not _for_ me, per se! But he just happened to have found that bra and was just inquiring about sizes when you came along…"

"Does your girlfriend know about _this_ side of you?" Tiffany queried; her eyes bright with unabashed interest. "Or is she no longer in the picture? Never did see her come around since that night I met her …"

She gestured to Larry.

"I reckon _this_ is what you've upgraded her to?"

"I am _not_ gay!" Phoenix shouted as he placed his hands on either side of his head and flung them forward with palpable exasperation. "And if I _were_ gay, I'd like to think I could do _better_ than _him_!"

" _Objection_ _!_ That's _way_ harsh, man!" The goateed man's lower lip trembled. "Why you gotta be such a _meanie_?"

"Will you just give it a rest, Larry!"

"I will not! What the shit, Nick? Just what was that crack supposed to mean?"

"You mean _aside_ from being fed up with this entirely erroneous assumption that we _Ying Yang_ each other's _wing wangs?_ A misconception, by the way, which you are doing _nothing_ to refute right now with your theatrics?" The spiky-haired man glared at his friend, who'd magically managed to get _teary-eyed_ over this utterly ludicrous situation! "For the record, it also means that you _don't turn me on_ _,_ alright?"

"Wah! Just admit it, you big meanie jerk-face! You _hate_ my artist's ensemble, don't you!" Larry was both wailing and in full waterworks mode now. "You loathe this pink sweater, don't you? No, wait! It's the _hat_ , isn't it? _That's_ why you're always yanking at it!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" The DILF groaned and clapped a hand to his forehead. "My giddy God's pajamas, Larry…"

" _Fine,_ then! Have it your way, Phoenix Wright!" The drama king cried. "See if _I_ ever come bra shopping for _you_ ever again!"

"Will you _please_ shut-up?! People are staring at us!" The card shark pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Also, you're not really helping our case here, Larry!"

"I guess ya don't _have_ to be a _fruit smoothie_ to want to dress the part," Tiffany murmured to herself, looking thoughtful. "I hear some fellas just like to gussy up all girly like, in their private time, but still swear that they're happy as a pig in mud when it comes to their wives or girlfriends. Is that the case for ya folks here? I remember yer gal pal was a tiny little thing, Phoenix, so I guess ya don't fit into her things? Is _that_ why ya'll two are lookin' fer yer own?"

"Tiffany, I'm here for my _daughter_!" The poker champ was beyond exasperated. "Trucy? Remember, you've seen her at the bar once or twice? And for the record, Larry and I are _neither gay nor cross-dressers_!"

"Oh, that's right!" Tiffany slapped her halo of platinum curls. "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! I remember her now. Cute as a June bug, that one!"

"Yes, my Trucy." Phoenix was relieved to have finally alleviated that misunderstanding. "Well said June bug is 13 now, and we're looking for –"

" _Hell to the no_ I ain't gay, gorgeous!" Larry instantly recovered from his tears and ogled at Tiffany with his normal lascivious expression. " _Trust me_ , I've had _more pie_ than Kirstie Alley!"

Phoenix literally facepalmed at that one.

Completely oblivious, Larry shamelessly continued.

"And _I_ remember _you_ were the sexy waitress that night of Maya's birthday! _Damn girl_ , like a fine wine, you've only improved with age!" Larry's eyes traveled admiringly over the blonde's statuesque body. "You look just as good covered up as you do in that tiny uniform, which let me tell ya, is the stuff naughty dreams are made of!"

"For the love of all that is holy, _please_ stop, Larry!" Phoenix begged as Tiffany silently stared at the artist in disbelief. "You're _completely overcompensating_ here!"

"Hey _you_ may be spoken for, but _I'm_ not! Your friend here is _smokin' hot_ , Nick!"

"Er, as flattering as all this is…" Tiffany interjected awkwardly. "I do believe ya were sayin' ya were looking for over the shoulder boulder holders for yer little girl, Phoenix?"

"Yes, yes I am," Phoenix said quickly, eager to get back to business. "Like I said, she's 13."

"Nowhere near _your_ league, of course," Larry leered, his tongue wagging as he gestured to Tiffany's ample bosom. "You're at least what, a 36 DD right?"

"Not bad," Tiffany grinned, proudly thrusting out her chest even more for inspection. "34 DD actually. That was a good guess, mister. You want a job here?"

"Well when you've had as much _experience_ with the _female form_ as I have, both painting and _otherwise_ it comes naturally," Larry bragged. "I'm an artist, you see."

Tiffany disregarded this and kept her eyes on Phoenix, all professional mode again.

"So I reckon this is her first foundation garment?" she asked.

"Yup," he nodded. "Mine too, actually..."

Tiffany's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

"I _swear_ to you this _is_ for _her_ ," he added hastily. "I meant, it's _my_ first time, buying her a foundation garment."

"I'd hope so because if we _were_ shopping for something for _those_ mighty pecs of _yers_ , Phoenix, I'd say _maybe_ a 38A," Tiffany joked. She winked as he started blushing again and began expertly flipping through the rows of boxes on the table Larry had abandoned. "What size is she?"

"I'm afraid I don't know her size…" Phoenix scratched the back of his head. "She um, takes about a 5.5 roller skate?"

Tiffany only looked at him, and his blush deepened as he stared back at her helplessly.

"I dunno, she's a 13-year-old girl size?"

"I got it." Tiffany held up a box, pulled the garment out and held it up for inspection. " _This_ here is our most popular early teen and preteen model."

"Really?" Larry snickered. "It looks like a surgical bandage!"

Tiffany sighed and once again kept her focus on Phoenix, who glared at his friend. "Does your daughter need something larger then?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Hmmm….this one here is purty," Tiffany offered, holding up another box. "With a little pink bow."

"I don't know about pink bows." Phoenix scrunched up his face and shook his head. "It's kinda fancy, I don't usually like that kind of stuff…"

"But y'all _claim_ ya _aren't_ shopping for _yerself_ , right?" Tiffany waved her finger at him playfully. "Yer thinking like a _man_ , Phoenix. Yer _supposed_ to be thinking like a 13-year-old girl!"

"I'm having a hard time thinking like a 31-year-old father!" Phoenix groaned. "We'll um, just take that first one you showed us, OK?"

"Excellent choice," Tiffany beamed, headed towards the cash register. "It's the one I started out with."

"When you were 13?" Phoenix asked.

"No suga, bless yer heart!" Tiffany let out a tinkling laugh, gesturing towards her buxom physique again. "When I was _9_! By the time I was 13, I was up to a _34 C_!"

"No kidding!" Larry let out a wolf whistle of appreciation. "I totally would have been hitting on you if you'd been in my class!"

" _All_ the boys did, suga," Tiffany flashed him a wink and a flirty smile. "And evidently, they _still_ do!"

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright**_ _  
Wright Talent Agency_  
October 14, 2024, 10:30 PM

"Here you go baby girl," Phoenix handed Trucy the package when Larry dropped them home after she was done work that night. "I hope it fits."

"You're the _best_ , Daddy!" Trucy excitedly tore into the bag, pulled the bra out of the box, and held it up for inspection. Her face fell with disappointment. "Oh. Thanks, Daddy."

"What's wrong, Truce?" Phoenix asked nervously, noting her crestfallen expression. "Did I get the wrong size?"

"No, it's the right _size_ ," she answered. "It's just…I kinda wanted the same one as Jinxie has. With the little pink bow on it."

"You _wanted_ the pink bow?" Phoenix asked, biting back a curse. "Why's that?"

"Because everyone's going to see it!"

" _Hold it_!" He pointed a stern finger at his daughter. "It's enough that you wave your magic panties in public Missy! Who's going to see your _bra_?"

" _Everyone_ , Daddy! All the girls in gym class, and at the slumber parties…"

"Oh, I see." He expelled a huge breath of relief.

"You just don't _get_ it, Daddy," Trucy explained patiently. "You _have_ to have the little pink bow."

"It's fine, Truce." Phoenix cleared his throat. "I'll go someplace else and get you your little pink bow."

"Why go through all that jazz, Daddy? Why don't you just take that one back to where you got it from?"

Phoenix's eyes widened in horror at the thought.

"No way in _hell_ …" he caught himself in time as Trucy stared at him.

_Return it to where I bought it, though?! Not in a million years!_ _Perish the thought!_

"I mean, nope! It's fine!" He insisted. "Really, it's um, good to have more than one, anyway."

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble, Daddy."

_Nah. I just wound up at the snooty, overpriced department store where my bawdy, overly friendly neighborhood waitress worked, where I had to con Larry into taking me in the first place, requiring me physically restraining The Butz from taking off on me once he realized what we needed to buy! Then, I endured the humiliating experience of a lifetime of having to convince said man-eater server turned saleswoman that no, I'm_ **_not_ ** _"light in the loafers" and that I do indeed_ **_love women_ ** _… but not enough to wear their clothing as my alter ego. Despite my protests though, thanks to that whiny crybaby's shenanigans, a part of me remains convinced Tiffany_ **_still_ ** _thinks this bra was for_ **_me!_ ** _And finally, I then had to spend the rest of the night soothing my old chum's wounded ego and_ **_assure Larry Butz that I found him attractive!_ ** _It was the only way to get him to stop the waterworks, which resumed the minute we left the store, and drive me home!_

"Don't give it another thought, Truce. What are fathers for?" Phoenix dropped a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "It was no trouble at all."


	57. Pandora's Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we all have a face  
> That we hide away forever  
> And we take them out  
> And show ourselves when everyone has gone  
> Some are satin, some are steel  
> Some are silk and some are leather  
> They're the faces of a stranger  
> But we'd love to try them on
> 
> Well, we all fall in love  
> But we disregard the danger  
> Though we share so many secrets  
> There are some we never tell  
> Why were you so surprised  
> That you never saw the stranger  
> Did you ever let your lover  
> See the stranger in yourself
> 
> Don't be afraid to try again  
> Everyone goes south every now and then  
> You've done it  
> Why can't someone else  
> You should know by now  
> You've been there yourself
> 
> Once I used to believe  
> I was such a great romancer  
> Then I came home to a woman  
> That I could not recognize  
> When I pressed her for a reason  
> She refused to even answer  
> It was then I felt the stranger  
> Kick me right between the eyes
> 
> Well, we all fall in love  
> But we disregard the danger  
> Though we share so many secrets  
> There are some we never tell  
> Why were you so surprised  
> That you never saw the stranger  
> Did you ever let your lover  
> See the stranger in yourself
> 
> Don't be afraid to try again  
> Everyone goes south every now and then  
> You've done it  
> Why can't someone else  
> You should know by now  
> You've been there yourself
> 
> You may never understand  
> How the stranger is inspired  
> But he isn't always evil  
> And he is not always wrong  
> Though you drown in good intentions  
> You will never quench the fire  
> You'll give in to your desire  
> When the stranger comes along

**_Franziska Von Karma and Shi-Long Lang_**  
 _Discreet Surveillance Van, Wa Sing Ku's Neighborhood,_  
 _Borginia_  
October 13, 2024, 8:45 PM

" _Holy frijoles!"_ Kay muttered fretfully to herself as she looked at the two image outlines from the overhead infrared cameras of the Ku mansion on her observation screen. "How in the name of Eugene Levy's bushy brows do their bodies appear to be generating _more_ heat now?"

The next moment she had her answer as she heard Lana's sultry voice in her headset, loud and clear.

"I haven't felt this _good_ in ages. I only wish _you_ could have partaken with me so you'd know _how_ good I'm feeling right _now_."

 _"Miss Dallas,"_ Miles whispered. "You're unbelievable,"

"This is the role of a _lifetime_ , Max," Lana purred back sultrily. "How about I demonstrate just how believable I can be, then?"

Kay's jaw dropped to her chest as the observed figures then seemed to become even further entwined – to the point where they now appeared as essentially _one_ giant shadowy outline instead of _two_ separate individuals! What was even more mind-boggling was that the Agent was currently detecting so much more _additional_ heat emanating from the conglomerate blob, she was wondered if Ku's smoke alarms were about to be set off!

All audible dialogue ceased thereafter, but the Yatagarasu could make out the sounds as the easily decipherable kind of those caught in the throes of passion and the audible conversation was no longer necessary to ascertain _what_ was going on inside that house!

The ninja's stomach dropped as she glanced nervously up at her Uncle, whose broad frame, mercifully, till that moment, had been blocking Lang and Franziska from visibility. Badd was clenching his lollipop stick so hard in his teeth, the end broke off and fell to the ground as he stared unblinkingly at the screen.

" _Christ on toast_ …" The Great Thief breathed.

"What is it?" Franziska snapped, ceasing her vain efforts to try stand on her tiptoes to look over Lang's shoulder at his tablet since he still vehemently refused to let her have her own! The Wolf Man frowned at whatever he saw on the screen and turned his back to her, further obstructing her view, but not before she got the look of apprehension on his face.

Feeling panicked now, she stormed over to the raven-haired girl and the detective, finding the very same obstacle. After several fruitless efforts at shoving Badd aside, the German woman finally got smart and ducked _under_ his arm, squeezing in front of him so she was standing right behind Kay's seated form in front of the monitor.

And that was when she saw _it_.

The images were vivid enough as a mere outline, and no earpiece was required. It was _glaringly evident_ what she was seeing.

Her heart twisted and sunk with nerves she stared at the screen. The white light enveloped her, coldly, as she shook. Her breaths came in sharp pants and she tried to gain control, but nothing was working. It _hurt._ It hurt like a _Hurensohn!_ The German _Frau_ tried to breathe calmly, but every time she looked up, those cruel, horrible, tormenting visions were right there – the same ones she'd somehow _known_ would be there long before she'd actually set eyes on the monitor.

Instinctively, she'd always sensed this pending nightmare, which she'd braced herself for with anxiety, uneasiness, and suspicion, would someday come to life; had been cognizant of this inevitable outcome from the very first moment she'd found out about Miles' accursed sting operation with that _Schlampe_ , Lana Skye.

She just hadn't thought it'd be this _soon_.

Slowly, the panic and anxiety attack flowed away, yet she remained tremulous. Her eyes, closed and aimed towards her clasped hands, slowly opened. Trepidation swelled through her as she slowly raised her gaze yet again to the steadily shining screen.

It was like a vexing of the soul, for what she felt was not human, it was twisted and distorted but it was something strong. It burned so badly, like fire lacing her veins and creeping up her spine, her skin was a sore-looking red but all she could feel was desire; the desire to hate. She was intoxicated with emotion that she'd had no intention of ever feeling, the acidity of it was residing in her stomach waiting to be spat out of her mouth in foul and vulgar words she would be stared at for saying, except she wasn't going to say them.

She was going to _screech_ them with every ounce of breath that dwelled in her lungs.

The child suddenly burst out at her like a tornado. She turned on Lang like an enraged panther.

Franziska Von Karma's tantrums were immediate and violent. There was no winding-up period, no warning. They were a full force from the very start like a bomb with no fuse, just an immediate explosion. But unlike such a blast she could go on for some time, sustained in her hormone-fueled rage. Then afterward she would justify it, excuse it, and generally blame it on someone else. And so, she went on his whole life, never learning, never cooling down, always just one more assault away from jail time.

 _"You!"_ She shrieked, rushing up to Lang and charging at the stupefied man, pounding at his chest with her tiny fists, fast and furious blows that he was fully unprepared for and had no way of dodging in the small vicinity of the surveillance van. "You brainless, _foolish fool!_ _You_ did this! This is _all_ your fault!"

She'd managed to get a few half dozen shots in before the Wolf Man swiftly reacted. Pinioning her wrists and holding them tightly in his enormous hands, his expression was apoplectic and foreboding.

"Oh shiiiiittttt…." Kay groaned, forgetting she was supposed to be on surveillance and covering her face with her hands. "Jesus, take the wheel!"

 _"Not so fast!"_ Lang roared; his raw voice brutal against her ear. Franziska struggled against him, shooting her right leg out but her movements were far too slow. Hands moving from her waist, the Agent seized her arms, trapping them to her side. Forcefully but not too roughly, he pushed her further away from him, against the side of the van, the agile gesture causing the silver-haired woman to stumble, almost falling flat on her face. "That's the last bit of horse-pucky I'm going to take from you, pregnant or not, do I make myself clear?"

Franziska wanted to cry as rage filled her belly. She felt her ears getting hot. She glared at him balefully, then spat out the words.

"Unhand me, you fool!"

His half-snarl, half-laugh only added fuel to her wrath.

"How _dare_ you?" Sparks were now flying out of the flashing. flint-colored orbs. "You have the gall to deem this is _funny_ , you foolish… _Dummkopf!"_

"I've just about _had_ it with you!" He glared back at her with fire in his dangerous, dark eyes. "You are an extremely stupid girl, Agent Von Karma, aren't you?"

" _Uneheliches Kind!"_ She spat. "How is this _not_ your fault? _You_ found that _Schlampe! You_ put them together in this undercover operation! And it is thanks to _you_ that she is all over my fiancé like _stink on_ _Scheisse!_ Even the briefest gander at that obscene image on the screen can indicate what is the tell-tale sign of that cheating swine's _arousal_ on that screen!"

 _"Arousal?"_ Badd inquired, squinting at the screen with interest as he popped another lollipop into his mouth.

"Yes, look at that _long, erect shadow_ you fool!" She shouted, turning her attention away from Lang momentarily to gesture furiously at the monitor. "You would have to be blind to miss it!"

"Um, Franziska…" Badd sounded like he was trying his best not to laugh. "Unless you're engaged to a _horse_ , that's _not_ Miles' er…"

 _"Boner,"_ Kay supplied helpfully to her uncle.

"Right. Thanks, Kiddo. Anyhow, his baby-making instrument isn't what you're seeing on the screen there."

" _Ach, nee?!_ What foolishness is this?!"

"Uncle Badd's right, Franziska," the ninja chimed in. "It looks like they may have just knocked over the pole lamp."

"Is that supposed to make everything kosher then?" The pregnant _Dame_ raged while stamping her foot, refusing to be placated. "Just because you claim that is _not_ my fiancé's visibly erect manhood on that screen does not remove the very viably possibility _is_ fully aroused, nevertheless, from this immoral, sleazy frolicking with that shameless, wanton… _Miststück!"_

"Enough of the gratuitous German insults already!" Lang exclaimed. "I don't need to speak the language to know that you've gravely insulted Miles, Lana, and me – all within the last _half minute!_ And for _what_ , pray tell? Why am _I_ to blame? Did _I_ force Lana to be crawling all over pretty boy there like a spider monkey?"

Franziska went to lunge at him again but Badd caught her this time, wrapping his enormous tree-trunk arms around the waist and holding squirming form tightly against him to restrain her committing certain homicide.

"I know you are just reveling in this, much like a _Schwein in Scheiße_!" She accused hotly. "Either that or you _planned_ this, Wolf Man! Admit it! This is all just one sick joke to you!"

"Rolex wearin', diamond ring sportin', kiss stealin', wheelin' dealin', limousine ridin', jet flyin' son of a gun will you placate your mammaries already, you crazy dame!" The Interpol lead was equally as furious. "Exactly _how_ in the nine circles of hell can you fathom that I saw _this_ coming?"

"Lana Skye been panting after Miles like a _Miststück_ in heat since the moment she laid eyes on him! Meanwhile, my equally culpable betrothed has regressed into a lovesick schoolboy ever since that _Hure_ came about, as well! Do not try to claim to have not noticed! Surely not even _you_ can be so foolish and blind, Lang?"

"Um, guys?" Kay cut in awkwardly, taking one headphone off her ear. "Can I say something?"

"Great steaming bouts of steaming magma on a beeline for the orphanage!" Lang bellowed, visibly cantankerous at being interrupted. "What the hell is it, Kay?"

"Er, based on what I could tell discernably perceive from the conversation, it sounds like Ku _forced_ them to do that _cocaine_ ," she informed them, her green eyes wide. "Mr. Edgeworth managed to dodge it, just barely but it seems like Lana was having a bizarre reaction to it. They're not em …. _canoodling_ anymore. And she's now expressing extreme regret for her actions already."

"How noble of the floozy to take her _tongue out of my fiancé's mouth_ long enough to have a conscience!" Sarcasm was positively dripping from Franziska's tongue. "Someone please present that _Schlampe_ a merit award!"

Badd sighed and loosened his grip on her long enough to turn her around to face him. Placing firm hands on her shoulders, he peered down at her with a serious, no-nonsense expression.

"Can you _try_ to be rational for five seconds here, Franziska?" He asked evenly. "I don't know if you've ever done cocaine before…"

"You fool! Iwis, _I_ would not ever be foolish enough to do allow such a thing!" She scoffed. "A Von Karma would _never_ sully their body or allow their mind to stray from the path of perfection with prohibited pollutants!"

"Bully for you, but _I'm_ no stranger to coke myself," the burly man retorted, smirking at the stunned look on Kay's face. "Don't judge! For the record, it was _way_ before my LAPD days. Plus, it was the _1980's_ , when that stuff was _everywhere!_ The point is, blow changes your mood, your psyche. You think you're invincible …and you're not yourself."

Franziska was silent as she pondered this, sinking into a nearby chair as she contemplated his words, but then suddenly, her expression grew fierce again as her arm shot out and she pointed an accusing finger at Lang.

Badd groaned and clapped a hand to his forehead as he realized his assiduous effort to calm things down had all been for naught and that the heated loggerheads would continue. It was a scathing war of words and the victor would be who could hurt the other one worse. Both Agents were at each others' throats like savage hungry dogs fighting over dominance.

"This is _still_ your fault, you fool!"

"Of _course,_ it is!" Lang agreed acidly, crossing his arms, and giving her one of his best feral glowers. " _Everything_ is my fault. World War Two was my _mea culpa_ as well, didn't you know? Please do regale us about how some Asian King Pin prompting your undercover lover to do his job and act the part of the boyfriend role with Lana – while the latter was under the influence of coerced cocaine! – was _my_ bad, _Ane-san_?"

"You. Sent. Them. To. A. Drug. Lord's. House," Franziska bit out through gritted teeth. "Yet you did not possess the _foresight_ to arm them with dopamine or some sort of substance impeder to counteract against any sort of illicit drug that may have been given to them – such as cocaine?"

Lang looked away guiltily for a moment and her voice raised several notches.

"Surely you had access to these kinds of preventative substances did you not, you _verdammt_ fool?!"

"What do you take me for?! The neurotransmitter synthetics are over there in that locked box beside Kay," He muttered uncomfortably, fidgeting with his sunglasses. "It simply didn't occur to me to administer them to Miles and Lana at the time, because…"

"Because of what _,_ you foolish fool of a fopdoodle?" She screamed, her face red with fury. "Because your pea-sized brain could not grasp the concept of how such panacea methods only tend to _work_ when you _use_ them?!"

"It was an innocuous, early evening dinner for just the two of them and Ku and _not_ a wild, late-night party this time!" Lang shouted back defensively, albeit with more subdued zeal now. "How was I supposed to speculate that their proclivities extended to _any_ given occasion that arose?!"

"If memory serves me correctly, that first-party you schlepped them off too did wind up turning into one of those, and you didn't arm them with any sort of anti-drug defense mechanism _then_ either, you foolish, bungling … _Arschloch!"_

"You watch your filthy, insubordinate mouth, Agent Von Karma!" He snarled, clearly needing no translation for this latest _Deutsche_ aspersion. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to here?"

"A completely incompetent _fool_ of an Agent that I have the misfortune of having as my superior?" She goaded. "Or should I raise my cadence to a higher octave so you and the rest of your canine kin can better hear and understand me?

"One more smartass remark out of you and I'll have your Agent badge, you unruly little _hellion!"_ Lang slammed his fist against the counter behind him, causing the whole van to quake and poor Kay to jump slightly. "And believe you me, I don't make _threats_ , I make _promises!"_

Lang's temper was like TNT, once the sparks started to sizzle there was very little time to duck and cover. Franziska knew she should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to abate, but she couldn't help sparring with him. Like trained boxers they circled one another; the kid gloves were off, it was fighting time. She traded slur for the slur, insult for insult, dig for dig. When his temper blew hot and he started thumping the furniture with his fist, she knew she'd won. He'd never laid an actual hand on her, but she knew she'd pushed him harder than was wise. For every pound she weighed he weighed three and it was all solid muscle. It would have been an uneven fight even if she hadn't been in her current "delicate condition."

_I am in the right. I know I am. But none of these Dummkopfs will listen! I could explain all damn day and they still would not get it. My face has become rigid, jaw clamped tight, teeth grinding. It is time to get out of here before I do something that they will make me regret._

The scenario would undoubtedly get even uglier than it already had if things further escalated. She needed to get the hell out of there. She shot out of her seat and in standing, her chair flew backward and fell over. The Wolf Man glared at her as if she'd done it on purpose.

"I am taking a walk!" Franziska announced, flinging open the rear van doors and stepping out into the cool night air, storming off before anyone could reply. On the way out, she slammed the door hard; she hoped their minuscule brains rattled within their witless skulls. "I refuse to breathe the same air as that foolish, slack-jawed, bipedal _mongrel_ for another instant!"

Her mind raced as she stomped around the neighborhood, her face still flushed with anger.

_In Lang's head, in all their minds, surely, my retreat was a victory to them already. In their warped logic, my anger meant **they** were right. Just because **they** had mostly kept their cool it does not prove the veracity of their argument. They are just coolly wrong. I need to turn away now, turn before I snap at their wide, judgmental stares. "There she goes again, all pregnant and irrational" is the shared consensus that I can **hear** them thinking! With each stride a take away from them, I am wholly aware I am the subject of discussion. Not so much the reason I lost it, but the fact **that** I lost it. And so, it goes on, with them feeling superior and me never altering the status quo, no matter how hard I try._

She let out a slow controlled breath and attempted to loosen her body movements. She was walking like a clockwork soldier and that was no way to be in this neighborhood. She gave her shoulders a wiggle and lolled her head in a circle, let her stride slacken to a more casual pace. It was a decent effort, enough to fool the casual observer, but for the onlooker with a keen eye, she was a walking advert for tension. Her eyes moved with the alertness that comes from heavy stress and her hands remained clenched by subconscious demand.

The expecting mother tried to calm down and neatly assess the situation from a bird's eye point of view.

She and Shi-Long Lang had always butted heads in the past and rarely seen eye-to-eye. She knew that eventually, her anger with the Agent would fizzle and surely come to pass.

But as for Miles and that strumpet/ _Miststück/Schlampe_ Lana Skye…

Franziska dug her fingernails so hard into her palms, she could feel the tender skin tear and start to bleed slightly. She wasn't sure when or even _if_ her fury at them would _ever_ cease.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Interpol Headquarters, Borginia_  
October 13, 2024, 10:30 PM

"OK, I heard them recap details about the next shipment, which Ku insisted _wouldn't_ be a dud this time, and then Mr. Edgeworth and Lana were preparing to exit the premises," Kay apprised them as the van pulled up to the office. "That was about half an hour ago, so they should be here shortly to debrief."

" _Assuming_ we can manage to get Miles through the door before Agent Von Karma has his head on a platter," Lang stated dryly, directing his sights at the tight-lipped German, who was sitting across from him with her arms crossed while pointedly evading his pointed stare. She didn't reply to her boss, but the stiffness of her posture and the tightness of her jaw indicated that the matter was nowhere near resolved, just resting.

"Franziska?" Kay placed a hand on the expecting mom's shoulder, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you going to be alright?"

The tempestuous beauty nodded mutely. She didn't trust herself to speak.

During her walk, she'd managed to clear her head enough to acknowledge that while Lang may have been naïve at best, and negligent at the worst, what with not foreseeing the need arm Miles and Lana with defensive solutions, her main issue had naught to do with her supervisor. No, in the end, her issues had _everything_ to do with her _loose-lipped_ swain and his porn star dubbed _faux bimbo!_ She'd swallowed their excuses and acts of innocence long enough. It was time for some answers.

At long last, around 11:00, the barrister strolled in, with his undercover partner in tow, a coffee cup in her hand, just like last time. It was déjà vu all over again. Except that on this occasion, Lana's scarf was wrapped around her slender bare shoulders as a wrap in place of her phony boyfriend's jacket. The brunette slid into the seat next to Lang while Miles stood rigidly at her side.

Franziska thought she'd calmed down a tad by now, she truly did. But at the sight of her future husband next to the cheap jezebel she deemed to be the cause of all her suspicions and headaches, she felt the burning rage once again hissing through her body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off her like ferocious waves. The wrath consumed like, engulfing her moralities and destroying the boundaries of loyalty.

Miles caught the flared look in her eyes and gulped, desperately wishing he'd gotten a coffee for himself as well. It would have given him something to fidget or toy with, rather than stand there completely unarmed and defenseless, under all their unrelenting stares; three sets of weary eyes, and one downright _murderous_.

The dread crept over him like an icy chill, numbing his brain. In this frozen state, his mind offered him only one thought.

 _It would be today_.

There was no more avoiding it. He felt like a cow being herded into a truck for the slaughterhouse, only the unsuspecting future steak didn't know where it was going and _he_ did.

Nowhere good. And he had nowhere left to hide.

His nerves were frayed to the quick. In his building anxiety, he constructed elaborate rationalizations for why everything would turn out hunky-dory. Nevertheless, the nagging voice in the back of his mind spoke of nothing but doom ahead.

As Franziska reflected on her partner's betrayal, her lip curled and her nostrils flared. Her body felt as if lead coursed through it instead of blood. Her once sunny childhood memories of him now felt as if they were tarred, disfigured into something grotesque. She took a moment to drag her gaze off him. She couldn't bear to look his way, because if they made eye contact, she thought she might vomit. Disgust. Total disgust.

The reticence hung precariously in the air like the suspended moment before a falling crystal vase shatters on the ground.

"I do not see any point in wasting any more time here, do you?" Her cadence was filled with venomous sweetness. "Why keep ignoring the pink elephant in the room?"

"Franziska…" Lang began, but she held up her hand, silencing him.

"You have done enough already, have you not, Agent Lang?" She asked softly, though with palpable intensity in her tone. "Do you not owe me _this_ much?"

"Maybe we should give them a few moments alone," Badd suggested. "We'll just go grab some coffee…"

He was already rising from his seat, with Kay following suit, but Franziska raised her hand.

"No, please stay. After all, you all had to witness _my_ humiliation about the events that transpired tonight. Why leave half the story untold?"

Lang crossed his arms, sighed in resignation, and shook his head.

"You've got five minutes to get this out of your system," he stated firmly. "Like _calm, rational_ adults. _Then_ we get straight to the debriefing."

"Which type of _debriefing_ did you mean, Agent Lang?" Franziska purred. "The kind where we go over the details of the dealings that our _undercover lovers_ here secured tonight, or the kind of debriefing where male undergarments are removed? AKA the kind that this first _drunken_ , and now _drugged_ ... _Hure_ keeps _repeatedly_ attempting to do with my fiancé? Assuming, of course, that tonight she was not finally successful in her endeavors?"

Miles gawked at his fiancée in disbelief, the color draining out of his face.

"Franziska, you are completely out of line!" He rasped, struggling to maintain an even tone. "I will have you know that no such lewd conduct occurred tonight whatsoever!"

"None that cameras picked up, _Liebling_?" She asked silkily before her voice hardened like glass. "Or none that you are willing to _admit_ to at the moment?"

"I resent this aggressive line of badgering!" Lana cried; her eyes filled with tears of indignation. "Yes, Miles and I kissed, but _nothing_ _else_ happened, I swear it! I know even going _that_ far was still wrong and I'll admit my conduct tonight was unseemly and unprofessional but I will _not_ allow myself to be slandered in such a manner! I was forced to do cocaine and thence, was not myself tonight, Franziska! I'm – I'm _still_ not!"

She dropped her head in her hands.

"Ugh, my _head_ …"

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Franziska sneered. "This helpless, damsel in distress act only works with the _men_ , Agent Hot Lips! However, as a woman, I am not only _onto_ you but completely _immune_ to your transparently man-eating ways and so-called feminine wiles!"

" _Meine Dame_..." Miles began but she cut him off, her intonation as sharp as a blade as she continued the dressing-down of her oppugnant.

"How exactly do you expect me to react, pray tell, when this is now the _second_ time that I have witnessed you being all over my fiancé like the hair on Lang's back?"

"Hold it right there!" The Wolf Man started to protest to this unprecedented insult, but Kay shushed him. Like a chastened pup, he obediently piped down, then mumbled, "my back's not _that_ hairy, is it?"

She nodded her affirmation with a smirk, then waved her hand in a silencing motion at him, like a disapproving mother trying to quiet down her unruly child at Sunday mass. Lang had no choice but to sullenly oblige while Franziska continued her ruthless tirade.

"In both instances, Agent Skye, you conveniently claimed you were _under the influence_ of some substance." She shifted her accusing glower towards Miles. "And how do _you_ expect me to feel, Sir Baron Kiss-A-Lot, after watching how you threw yourself into this _role of a lifetime_ with such gusto, hmmm? However, unlike your cohort, _you_ do not have the handy excuse of _drugs_ as an alibi!"

"Please, leave Miles out of this!" Lana pleaded, still rubbing her temple with her free hand as she set her drained cup down on the ground. "I'm so sorry. _I_ was the one strung out on coke, not him! _He_ was simply acting accordingly as my lover because it was either that or risk blowing the entire operation! Surely you can understand that?"

"All I understand is that you've been disgustingly panting after each other like a couple of dogs in heat from the moment you came here! Moreover, _you're_ supposed to be affianced too yet you brazenly continue to conduct yourself in such a licentious, undignified manner with _my_ future spouse! I am beginning to wonder if that whole tragic tale about your jailbird fiancé was just a ruse so that you could look like the unsuspecting, innocent party while you tried to seduce _mine!"_

"You're getting way below the belt here, Franziska." Lana's lip quivered. "Don't you _dare_ talk about Jake in such a manner! There's no need to drag him into this!"

"And why not? How do we know Jake even exists?"

"I know Jake Marshall. He most assuredly _does_ exist..." Miles offered weakly but his fiancée ignored him and continued the relentless haranguing of her rival.

"What proof do we have that you even _are_ engaged to this suitor you speak of? There is no ring, ergo no _physical evidence_ of such troth! All we have is your _word_ , which means _nothing_ in light of your indecorous actions!" Franziska raged. "If this Jake Marshall _does_ exist, then he is the most cuckolded man in existence! I cannot believe he is completely unaware of what a _vile, filthy slut_ he has proposed to! A _Schlampe_ of such loose morals she would dare try to sleep with a pregnant woman's betrothed!"

"You shut your foul mouth, Franziska Von Karma!" Lana rose unsteadily to her feet. While her eyes were remained slightly glazed, her lethal stare was savagely piercing, as if it'd be able to tear her foe apart in a blinding teal light. "Don't even _think_ of going there unless you're prepared for the consequences!"

"Do you honestly think _you_ can scare _me_?" Franziska shouted back. "You are nothing more than an aging, pathetic, oversexed _cougar_ that needs to prowl after a man who belongs to another because she obviously is not satisfied by her _own_ ensnared _Liebhaber!"_

Her lips curled into a contemptuous sneer as she pointedly ignored the cautionary flare of her incensed enemy's nostrils.

"Is _that_ what this is truly all about, Lana Skye? Did you wish to sink your predatory talons into the one who got away? Was this all just so you can finally stop wondering how old Jake stacks up, or should I say, _lacks_ in comparison to my Miles in bed?"

The prosecutor felt his heart drop down into his shoes as he watched his ex's icy glare lock onto Franziska's. They were the same ones the brunette had reserved for the apprehended guilty criminals back in the day; a contemptuous, hateful disdain. But it was more than that. There was also a terseness she wasn't even trying to mask ... like the false warning silence before the loud explosive sound of thunder.

"I don't need to _wonder_ how Miles stacks up," Lana seethed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. " _Been, there, done that_ already!"

She caught the poleaxed expression on Franziska's face and narrowed her eyes.

"There you go! The cat's out of the bag! Are you happy now?"

The _Frau_ was thunderstruck at the revelation, although, in hindsight, she knew she shouldn't have been.

It was exactly what she'd suspected all along. But _believing_ something and _hearing_ your confounded suspicions out loud in such a manner was still a thousand times worse than she could have _ever_ anticipated. This was _it_ at last; her worst nightmare come true.

Sensing her antagonist's retreat, Lana stepped up her attack, both guns blazing.

"Let's just get it out in the open already! Yes, Franziska, you've heard it straight from the horse's mouth now! Miles and I – we've _fucked!_ We _fucked hard!_ However, that was _eight bloody years_ ago! Was _that_ what you wanted to hear?! Yeah, we work well together – because we have _chemistry!_ But I'm _not_ in love with him and for some unknown reason, _he_ is madly in love with _your_ spoiled, insane, jealous _Arsch!_ Regardless of that, you're the future mother of his _child,_ so stop being so goddamn petty and insecure and juvenile and _grow the hell up!"_

The no-holds-barred decisive testimony echoed throughout the soundless room. You could have heard a pin drop in the aftermath of Lana's barbed words, which could never be taken back or unheard. They'd now been witnessed by everybody present, as clear as a bell.

The truth was like the sun. One could shut it out for a length of time but it would never, ever truly go away.

A glance and one small comment stirred a hurricane of harsh and hurled insults. Miles' phizog burned crimson, just a tone lighter than Franziska's puce visage. This was no longer " _He said, She said_." Blood was had been spilled; feelings hurt. Their bond hadn't been too sturdy at all lately, and after _this_ , he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that now their union would never again be as strong as it'd once been.

And now it was too late for recanting or regrets.

Franziska's mind reeled. Her voice shook as she turned her devastated, accusing gaze onto her shamefaced fiancé. Their voices rose above the tense silence.

"You lied to me, Miles."

_"Meine Dame –"_

She shook her head, her heart pounding rapidly as she felt the furor once again coursing through her veins.

"I explicitly asked you, _repeatedly_ , if Lana had ever been more to you than just your boss and you blatantly denied it. You looked me dead in the face and _lied_ to me. How am I ever supposed to trust you again?"

The eyes that regarded him now rendered him speechless. She was past rage, past yelling. What was now left behind was something much, much worse.

The Pandora's box had been opened, sending each word full speed ahead to shatter their souls into a million pieces.

Her cold fury burnt with dangerous intensity. He'd never worried about her frequent fireworks and showers of red-hot sparks. It was these bitterly cold, slow-burning rages that threatened to engulf their relationship.

Angry eyes were just the start, soon to be followed by the dismissive strut, then the next bout of slamming and clipped words. Franziska would turn, all a smolder, but her familiar, loving face was gone. Instead, she now bore the baleful mask of her stern father, the one who'd raised her on the fancy side of town in the house where Miles' own life had been hell. Between the perfect stripes of eyeliner, the gray orbs he'd fallen for were no more than stormy chips of ice.

When someone looked at you like that, eyes holding total anger, it hurt; but when that someone held your heart in their hand, it _killed_. Even if you _deserved_ it, sometimes _especially_ if you did, the loss was a fine pair of concrete boots and your own soul was an unforgivably cold, raging river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy Joel – The Stranger


	58. On The Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "By your side, or in your absence; in reality or dreams; in the privacy of friendly corner or against the formidable murmur of the sea; at moonlight or black night and dotted of interrogators stars; in the beautiful and tender moment dawn; in the meridian day stupor or twilight gold thoughtful ... Everywhere and all the hours my subdued heart cries out the words which I fear I may never again be able to verbally pronounce."

**_Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
December 22, 2024, 8:15 AM

Slowly and reluctantly, Miles uncovered his face. He blinked, closed his eyes, and blinked again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blinded him. He sat up, dragged his feet off the bed, and rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He watched his legs dangle above the off-white plush carpet, then looked over his shoulder at the sleeping form next to him on the bed, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he listened to the soft snores emitting from the other side of the mattress.

Reaching over, he ran his fingers over the familiar silky hair, then, feeling uncharacteristically emotive, buried his head into the comforting warmth.

"Oh, Pess," he whispered. "Thank heavens I have you to wake up to and to and warm this cold, lonely bed of mine."

While his chambers had much of the luxe opulence as the ones of the rest of the house, there were no photos within it, or personal items to make him feel as if he belonged there. Unlike in the master bedroom, where Franziska was presumably still slumbering.

He hadn't slept there in over two months. Hadn't been allowed to, no matter how hard he tried.

Once again, his fiancée had forcibly ejected him from their chambers.

He shouldn't complain. At least here at the manor, he had one of many guest rooms to choose from and hadn't been condemned to the sofa, which had been his proverbial doghouse for a week after the first party at Ku's, back at the hotel. It was within the walls of that suite where the couple had experienced the inevitable aftermath of the second party.

When things had irrevocably gone to hell in a handbasket.

Miles could still remember the falling out that had resulted in this purgatory as clearly as if it'd been yesterday…

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Venabu Fjellhotell og Hytter Hotel, Presidential Suite,_  
 _Borginia_  
October 13, 2024, 11:15 PM

They'd left the Interpol offices shortly after the hammer had fallen. In the aftermath of Lana's infuriated, half-provoked, half-cocaine fueled revelation, the room had gone into a standstill. Nobody had spoken a word after Franziska had tearily realized the enormity of the deceptions around her.

A mouse's sneeze could have easily been heard in that room, so rigid was the resounding stillness.

Seconds felt like hours, minutes felt like eons. At last, Lang had awkwardly muttered something about calling it a night and then made haste before anyone else could either balk or agree. The others had followed hot on his heels, nearly leaving smoke trails in their alacrity to follow immediate suit, leaving only Miles and Franziska behind, alone.

He tried to speak, tried to force his lips to cooperate, but when he parted them, no sound came out. She looked at him and shook her head, her silvery hair falling against her flushed cheeks as she lowered her face, obstructing it from his vision. Then she mutely walked out the door. He had no choice but to do the same.

The trip back to the hotel, and then to their room, was filled with a torturous, deafening silence that he'd found more agonizing than if she'd just lashed out at him, either with her whips, or even her words. But no, not a peep from Franziska. She had even kept her head turned away from him so he couldn't even see the steely set jaw of her profile anymore.

They entered their room, and Miles trailed behind her into the bedroom, absently tossing his suit jacket onto the armchair in the corner of the room as Franziska rummaged in the dresser for her nighttime clothing. He stood there, helplessly, having no choice but to look at her, silently pleading with her to at least afford him a glance so he'd at least know he didn't repulse her to the point where she couldn't even _look_ at him, never mind _speak_ to him.

When at last his fiancée turned, Miles wished he had kept his trance anywhere else – the television, the window view … the artwork on the walls. Deliberation was over. She had judged him already and in her eyes, he saw only cool abhorrence. He'd seen that same look when she'd first told him of her premier courtroom defeat to Phoenix, like if someone offered her a loaded gun and a "get out of jail free card" she'd have forgotten that she was a woman of the law and actually given the homicide of her courtroom rival some serious contemplation.

Only this time, it was much worse. This time it was the same expression under the exact scenario … but he knew in _this_ circumstance, if handed the ammo, she'd have no problem pulling the trigger.

Franziska didn't even know how infuriated she still was until they were alone at that moment. Her anger had been simmering down to what she'd been hoping would now be a lowered boil... she was well aware that being this steamed was not the most ideal situation for a woman who was with child.

But then she saw his suit jacket laying carelessly on the plush, wingback chaise lounge, and the bark of her voice even surprised her.

"I am not your maid, Miles Edgeworth! Stop being a slob and get your accursed clothing off the furniture this instant, you _lying, inconsiderate, slovenly fool!"_

Miles flinched at the sudden outburst and looked at her with startled, hurt grey eyes. She knew she should reign it in, apologize before she made it worse, but she just didn't have it in her to stop. Her words crashed out unchecked, unaltered.

"It is the epitome of foolish laziness! Lazy, disgusting, and vile. Get your damn jacket off the armchair and hang it up in the wardrobe like a civilized human being before I toss it – along with your treacherous _Arsch_ , off the bloody balcony!"

She grabbed his jacket and hurled it at him. He caught it, and then, in a tiny fit of additional temper, she picked up a pillow from the bed and hurled that at him, too.

"Franziska, _please,"_ Miles implored, although he wisely grabbed the pillow and held it up as a shield between them. "Let me explain."

"Explain what? How the father of my child is nothing but a wretched, two-faced _Judas?_ One who had repeated, ample opportunity to confess the truth to me about his tawdry history with that… _Hure_ , yet did no such thing, and chose to look me in the eye and flat-out _lie_ to me instead?"

As he dropped his gaze guiltily, her voice rose shrilly.

"Get the hell out of my sight, Miles Gregory Edgeworth! Off with you! Begone! I do not even want to _look_ at your duplicitous face for another minute!

"It was a long time ago, _meine Dame!"_ He insisted, slowly backing out of the room as she began shoving him back out the door, pushing forcibly at his pillow, which was clutched against him as a barrier between them. "I didn't want to upset you in your delicate condition! In your state, I never could have lived with myself if, had you known about my history with Lana, you then got unnecessarily upset and stressed out … I was trying to _protect_ you!"

Her second voice was urging her to stop, but this was an explosion in progress, no reverse gear, no dampeners. Franziska's every word was clipped, punching into the air. She jabbed the air with a pointed finger at each utterance, her eyes narrowed and set hard.

"Miles Edgeworth, I cannot even stomach the _sight_ of you right now! What the hell are you even still doing here? Are you so foolish that you think I am going to allow you to get in this bed with me tonight? Or _ever_ again? Get out! _You_ may have made your bed with your lies and deceit but I will be _damned_ if I let you lie in it _with me_!"

The German woman ground out the words through clenched teeth.

"You go out there and fight with Pess to make room for you on that sofa in the sitting room! And I _genuinely_ hope she refuses to budge at all and makes you sleep on the floor like any other _dog!"_

"Franziska, please! I know you're angry right now, and I'm so sorry, but maybe after you've calmed down a bit we –"

Her eyes flashed with indignation and anger, much like lightning on a pitch-black night. He couldn't recognize her anymore. The sweet, loving girl he used to know was now gone, and it was all because of him.

"Miles Edgeworth." There was a blast of Arctic in her cadence as she slowly, calculatingly, spoke her ire. "No matter what you say or do, it will never make up for what happened between us. I will no longer trust you. I will never again be comfortable around you. I will never look at you or think of you without considering the destruction you have train wrecked through my life. Right now as we speak, I despise you so much, I can wholeheartedly tell you that if I were not pregnant with your baby right now, as the _sole tie that binds us together_ , that there is enough decisive evidence gained tonight to make me render the verdict and end things with you, utterly and _permanently."_

Miles stood, swaying at the venom of the words. The desolation he felt was all-consuming. His mind became an icy wasteland, the wind howled in his soul and wrapped sangfroid tentacles around his heart so tightly it almost stopped beating as he stared helplessly at the woman he'd loved, one way or another, for nearly his entire life.

Franziska Von Karma loathed him. Despised him. _Hated_ him so much that she had just clearly and painfully stated that the only reason she was still staying with him, from this day on, was because of the baby. _This_ was what he'd reduced their status to. The knowledge was staggering, devastating. He didn't trust himself to speak.

He felt as if a part of him had died inside and his burgeoning hope that he'd be able to rectify matters was now completely vanquished, gone faster than summer rain on the tarmac.

She wasn't even looking at him anymore. Indeed, her focus was somewhere on the wall behind him as if he had become invisible to her, or she could not bear to see him at all anymore. He'd crossed some invisible line, offended her sensibilities. He'd seen her do this to others before, but he'd thought their bond immune, unbreakable.

Now his blood drained and his heart hammered erratically. He was never afraid of Franziska's anger when it came as fire, for that burn hot and fast. Miles was deathly afraid of her ice. It coated her like protective permafrost. It was pointless to try to reach her now. His well-meant words would bounce off as good as hard rain. He knew as he was no stranger to the same preferred method, that it had saved them both from the torments of their youth, but now the same method would isolate her everything – work, friends … but most of all, _him_.

The words had flown from her mouth that she never thought she'd even think, let alone say out loud. She knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they'd hit their mark. In that instant, their relationship shattered into glassy shards. Nothing would ever be the same again. She felt emotionally bankrupt. The was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that enveloped her mind in swirling blackness.


	59. Teenage Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible."

**_Lana Skye and Ema Skye_**  
Elsewhere in Europe  
December 22, 2024, 8:16 AM

"Don't get me wrong! It's not that I'm not thrilled to be spending Christmas with my big sister!" Ema placed the last of the tinsel on the Christmas tree and then stepped back to admire their joint decorative efforts. "However, I _am_ slightly confused about how you got this impromptu break from Interpol in the first place? Did you get time off for good behavior or something?"

"I _wish_ that was the case!" Lana's tone was wry as she reached into the last tissue paper-lined box and handing her sister the glass angel on top. "I won't get my tainted criminal record expunged until after 10 years, remember? I have _five_ more to go!"

"I know it seems like total bummer balls," Ema sympathized. "But look on the bright side! You're _halfway_ there!"

"If that colorful euphemism was youth speak for _'getting a raw deal'_ it's because that's _exactly_ what it is! The fates really want to ensure they get their pound of flesh from me for my past sins! Talk about selling your soul to the devil," Lana grumbled disgustedly. "Hell's biscuits! I thought my days of soul-sucking bargains ended with that godforsaken bastard, Damon Gant!"

"He's on death row," Ema quietly reminded, noting the tears that had formed in her sibling's eyes as she spoke, and hating to see her sister upset. "He's out of our lives now, Sis. He can't hurt us anymore."

Smiling tenderly, Lana regarded the young woman she'd raised practically as a daughter and tried to shove the harrowing memories of the diabolical former Police Chief out of her mind.

"You're right Ema, I'm sorry to be such a Debbie Downer."

_Evidently, I'm much better at being a Debbie **Dallas!**_

"Let's talk happy stuff then." Ema poured them some eggnog. "How long do I have you for? At least till Christmas, right? Maybe New Years?"

"Well, I've been off work a week now, so Christmas is likely," Lana nodded, taking a sip. "But this isn't your 9-5, two-weeks off sort of gig, Ema. I may have to up and leave at a moment's notice if Lang calls and informs me that _the source_ has decided to end his holidays in Asia early and is headed back to Europe."

It blew turds; it honestly did. Had the former detective known for sure how long she'd be off work, she'd have flown back to California to see Jake, as well as Phoenix and some other friends. But no, Lang had insisted that she and Miles remain in Europe so they were available at a moment's notice. Lang was staying with some of the associates in France for the holidays, while and Kay and Badd were visiting with Raymond Shields, Gregory Edgeworth's former law partner, and his wife, Katherine Hall.

That small nugget she'd just conveyed to her sister was the maximum amount of classified information as Lana was allowed to divulge, even though she'd sworn Ema to secrecy nevertheless.

It was a gloomy and inconvenient truth in the end. In the last couple of months, after four more successful contraband shipments, each increasingly larger than the previous one, (the illegally imported drugs from Ku were, as promised, _The Real McCoy_ and not placebos) _Maximillian Banks_ had finally reckoned he'd gained enough of the drug lord's trust enough to move in for the kill and asked the $64,000 question regarding the sought-after cocoons. This had been around mid-December. Ku in turn, to the surprise of no one, had professed he had zero direct dealings with the coveted Borginian exports! Moreover, he'd then announced, to Interpol's great chagrin, that he was going to go spend the holidays back in his native Hong Kong, for an undisclosed amount of time. _However_ , he'd added slyly, upon return, the Chinese man would amicably divulge the information about who _did_ have a direct cocoon connection … for the right price, of course.

Consequently, the sting operation was on a temporary standstill and was now at the merciful whims of an Asian kingpin whose return date none of them had any inkling of. Hence, their current standby status.

"I know it's dangerous and all but it all sounds so exciting at the same time!" Ema's teal eyes, so like her sister's, sparkled with excitement. "I mean, you and Mr. Edgeworth going undercover like that … it's like having a real-life 007 spy for a sibling! Except _he's_ James Bond and you're more … _Pussy Galore!"_

The unintentional irony of the statement didn't escape Lana in the least, and she tried not to cringe as she emitted a laughing groan as she tossed a Snackoo at her sister.

"Ugh, _that's_ the first Bond girl name that came to your mind, you _gutter-minded_ little girl?"

"Hey don't waste those!" Ema caught the snack in mid-air and popped it into her mouth as she flashed an impish grin. "Sorry, did I bring up bad memories of your assigned porn star name, _Miss Dallas_?"

"Enough of your sass, young lady!" Lana laughingly aimed again and another snack object whizzed past her kinswoman's ear. "You're lucky I'm in altruistic, peaceful holiday spirits, or I'd _really_ let you have it!"

"Holy granoly, your Wolf Man boss sure has one _twisted_ sense of humor, though!" Ema ducked as a decorative pine cone whizzed over her head and snickered. "By the way, is Mr. Edgeworth still as _hot_ now as he was back in the day?"

_Cap wearing catfish flopping a crime beat!_ The elder Skye's cheeks flamed. _How much more inappropriate and disgusting can this conversation possibly get?! My ears feel like prostitutes!_

"Ema Sharona Skye!" Lana chided, taking a quick sip of her eggnog to hide the flustered expression on her face at the inadvertent scandalous query. "That is my colleague and former subordinate you're speaking of, you naughty trollop! And have you forgotten I'm a _betrothed_ woman?" _  
_  
"You're nearly _married_ , not _buried_ , right?" Ema shrugged. "Besides, Mr. Edgeworth isn't working under you anymore, right?"

She appeared oblivious to her sibling's fiery calescence at the words and hugged herself at the thought of the handsome prosecutor.

"Double whiz fish and fiddlesticks, Lana! You're so lucky, getting to work with that debonair Prosecutie! I had _the hugest crush_ on him when I was a teenager!"

"Is that right?" Lana remarked mildly, busying herself with placing the glittery pine cones in a pretty crystal vase and dipping her head down to hide her face with her hair so Ema wouldn't see her still pink cheeks. "I'm surprised you noticed Miles, considering most of your time was spent with Phoenix. If memory serves me correctly, that spiky-haired defense attorney was a pretty good-looking fella, too!"

"Mr. Wright? Good-looking? Sure, I guess he was. Probably still is; at least he was the last time I saw him at the Russian bar." Ema shrugged again. "But even if I'd wanted to pursue that path, it would have been useless; I could sense even back then that his mind and heart were elsewhere. I remember Maya Fey was his assistant back when he agreed to be our lawyer and had been gone for a while. So, when I came to see him and asked if he'd help us, he gave me the weirdest look, as if he'd seen a ghost! And then at times, when he thought I wasn't noticing, he'd stare at me with this kind of sad, nostalgic look on his face. I obviously reminded him of her and he was missing her dreadfully."

Lana was happy to have steered the conversation onto safer topics and away for her former paramour. She had yet to shake the crushing guilt over causing such irreparable strife in Miles' present love life; the chasm between him and Franziska had been impossible to ignore since that fateful dinner party in the fall, and she still hated herself for her provoked actions and loose-lips, which had been the cause of it all.

"I've never met the Master of Kurain in person thus far," she murmured absently, dropping her head so Ema wouldn't see her still-flushed cheeks as she tried to veer away from the topic of Miles. "Do you two _really_ look that much alike?"

"Apparently to the point where Maya kind of freaked out when she saw me in the bathroom that night!" A slight smile on the scientist's lips as she fondly remembered her old friend and his girlfriend. "I think Mr. Wright may have loved her even back then, when he and I first met. My suspicions were proven on the night when you and I went to celebrate your engagement at the Borscht Bowl and the two were officially together! I saw Franziska too, although I didn't know she and Mr. Edgeworth were engaged at the time."

She sighed wistfully.

"Boy, that Franziska sure is a lucky girl!"

"Yes, I suppose she is," replied Lana noncommittally as she finished ornamenting the table, then beaming at her sibling as she admired the results. "OK, the house is officially all festive and decorated! Hope is going to _love_ what we did with the place!"

"I _hope_ so," Ema ignored her sister's eye-roll and grinned at her own pun about Lana's coroner friend, with whom she'd been staying for the past decade. "Poor Doc! She doesn't get any more time off in her line of work than _you_ do, otherwise, she'd have done up the place herself!"

"I still insist you somehow had some sort of _ESP premonition_ that I was going to be here in time to help you do up the place and trim the tree," Lana teased. "Which is why _nothing_ was still done when I got here!"

"Since when did you turn thicker than a plank?" Ema scoffed. "Scientifically speaking, there is _no_ such thing as ESP or psychic powers! I just got lucky that you came along when you did, Sis! I've simply been too busy obsessing over my science books and study papers, trying to ascertain how I did on that forensic exam!"

She nervously popped one of her ever-present Snackoos into her mouth and suddenly looked nervous.

"I cannot believe I need to wait until the _New Year_ to find out how I did!"

"Professors don't generally like to mark papers during the holidays, Ema," Lana reminded her. "Stop eating your weight in those calorie-laden things! I have no idea how you aren't the size of a house by now, what with the way you gorge on them!"

"Must be my metabolism." Ema popped another two of the treats into her mouth. "Either that or stress burns calories!"

"It's called being in your _20's_ ," Lana laughed. "Enjoy it while you can! And no more worrying about science, you hear? I'm sure you passed that test with flying colors and then my contacts in the US are going to hook you up with your dream job, where you'll be the happiest, Snackoos-stuffed forensic scientist in the world!"

"Do you think by the time I'm done my training for the role and am an actively practicing scientist, you and Mr. Edgeworth will have wrapped up this whole operation and be back in the States by then?" Ema asked dreamily. "Because that would make it be a _total_ dream come true! Snackoos, my favorite prosecutie, _and_ you!"

"I'm not sure..." Lana faltered, feeling the tension creeping back up her spine at the mention of her ex again. "Although I don't know what to say about the fact that I'm last on your wish list, and rank lower than even Snackoos, never mind my former subordinate!"

"I can't help it! I'll never forget the first time I saw Mr. Edgeworth in that courtroom," Ema sighed. "He was so …much more… _forceful_ in person! It was so inspiring…hell, I remember he inspired me to think: 'I suddenly feel like confessing to _everything_! Even things I haven't even done'!"

Lana cracked up. Sometimes her sister was just too much!

"To be honest, one of the reasons I wanted to get into the forensics field was so I could gather scientific evidence to help with criminal cases." Ema closed her eyes, lost in her blissful daydream. "I'd get to work with Mr. Wright again too, of course, and Gumshoe…but the icing on the cake would be working alongside Mr. High Prosecutor's suave, debonair behind!"

"Ema!" Lana admonished with a reluctant laugh. "You little home-wrecking hussy! You _do_ know Miles is not only engaged to Franziska but they're expecting a _baby_ in a couple of months, right?"

"Sis, don't be such a kill-joy!" Ema opened her eyes and scowled darkly. "Just let me have my teenage dream, alright?!"


	60. Stalemate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When it feels hardest to give love, it is the most important moment to give without measure."

_**Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma**_  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
December 22, 2024, 8:16 AM

Miles had just thrown on his robe over his pyjamas and he was about to head downstairs for some breakfast when he heard Franziska's furious shriek coming from the master bedroom.

" _Warum sind Sie einfach nur da du tor Frau_ _?"_ She yelled. _"_ _Von meinem Bad laufen_ _!"_

" _Ich glaube nicht, gnädige Frau zu verstehen_!" He heard Helga, the Von Karma long-time faithful maid, cry plaintively.

_**CRASH** _ **!**

There was an earsplitting clatter from the room along with a howl of dismay from the housekeeper and a steady stream of German curses from Franziska.

Alarmed, the prosecutor raced down the hall and flung open the door to find his fiancée sitting up in bed, her whip in her hand, glaring at the elderly salt-and-pepper haired servant, who stood there wringing her hands against her starched white apron in hopeless dismay.

Both women appeared unharmed, the sole casualty being the porcelain vase that'd been sitting on a wooden pillar in the corner of the room, which was presently smashed into a million pieces.

"Now look what you have made me do!" Franziska snapped at the housekeeper. "If you had not moved, I would not have missed and gotten the vase instead!"

" _Meine_ – _Franziska_ ," he corrected himself quickly when he saw her scowl at the now unwanted affectionate term. " _Why_ have you been resorted to using your whip on the staff?"

"I don't know what language I need to speak to make this _Dummkopf_ _Dienerin_ understand me!" She crossed her arms and glared at the maid and Miles, evidently forgetting that their longtime help spoke fluent English. "I asked her to run my bath and she just stared back at me with a look of foolish mystification on her face!"

Miles knitted his brow with confusion as he looked down at the plump German maid, whose eyes were round with alarm. Helga was clearly too terrified to speak within her incensed mistress's presence in her own defense, so he put a reassuring arm around her shoulders, held his finger up to Franziska to signal they would be right back, and steered the overwrought serf out into the hallway.

"Helga, what's going on?" Miles asked gently as the maid stared at the ground and attempted to smooth back an errant strand of hair back into its tightly scraped back bun. "Why was Franziska so upset with you?"

He waited patiently for the head housekeeper to speak and when she finally looked up at him, her face was wreathed with helpless despair.

"I don't know what to do make _gnädige Frau_ happy anymore!" Wailed Helga, her dark eyes filling with tears. "She's so – irrational lately! The staff is terrified of her, _Meister_ Edgeworth! At the mere drop of a hat, she's ready with that whip of hers! My husband Hans and I have been serving the Von Karma family for over 40 years now – and she's never tried to strike either of us before – we've helped raise her since _Mätresse_ Von Karma passed…May _Gott_ rest her sainted soul."

She buried her heads in her hands.

"Nowadays, it seems all she wants to do is lash out at us. She's been like this ever since the two of you came back from your latest Interpol operation…"

He sighed and awkwardly patted the poor sobbing woman on the shoulder.

"I just don't understand her anymore, _Meister_ _!"_ Helga attempted to wipe her tears on her apron.

Miles felt simultaneously miserable and contritely aware that he was partially to blame for Franziska's foul, abhorrent disposition and worsened temperament. He also had no idea how to console Helga about matters either; not without airing their dirty laundry.

"My fiancée is not too far from her due date now, Helga, so please don't take it personally," he mumbled. "I'm sure she doesn't mean to be this way…a lot of it is hormonal, after all…"

"I mean, I _literally_ don't understand her!" Helga cried. "Her German is _godawful_ _!_ Why can't she just speak to me in English? I could translate for the rest of the servants! Just now she broke into a rage when I didn't understand what she meant when she told me _von meinem bad laufen_ _!"_

Being fluent in German, despite not having needed to speak the language in years, Miles' lips twitched with amusement at the misunderstanding.

"I am positive, Helga," he said, somehow keeping a straight face, "that she meant to say, _Führen Sie mein Bad."_

A look of understanding came over the housekeeper's mien then, and she bit back an amused smile as he continued.

"I can assure you Franziska was attempting to say _run my bath_ , as opposed to saying that she was _running from my bathroom_ _!"_

" _Danke_ , _Meister,"_ Helga sounded relieved. "But first I should go try to soothe my poor, frazzled Hans, who she ordered to _ringt mir mein Frühstück im Bett_."

Miles swallowed back a chuckle.

_**Wrestles me my breakfast** _ _**in bed.** _ _Ah, meine Dame, please stick with English, your German is atrocious enough to bring tears to_ **_my_ ** _eyes, never mind to those of these confused servants!_

"Please have Hans know the clarified instructions should have been _Bringt mir mein Frühstück im Bett,_ " Miles said pleasantly. "While you go and fulfill Franziska's intended request to _bring her breakfast in bed_ , I shall take the task of drawing her bath off your hands in the meantime. And could you please have Hans prepare _my_ usual breakfast?"

"I can do it," Helga assured him, all smiles again. "He's too busy preparing a special brunch for when _gnädige Frau_ Katharina and her daughter arrive shortly. One chamomile tea, no sugar, and an egg-white omelet with _Hirtenkäse_ cheese? Shall I bring it up along with _gnädige Frau's_ breakfast?"

"No, it's fine, Helga," Miles assured her, positive his partner – in _name only_ at this point! – was in no mindset to want to share a meal with him in her current state; she barely had done so for the past two months, after all. "I shall be down shortly."

He patted the housekeeper once more on the shoulder as she headed downstairs, idly wondering if his niece's dog, Phoenix, would be joining Anneliese and Katarina on their trip to the manor. He hoped so. Pess would love the four-legged company!

It certainly was a testament to how rattled he had been; in all the morning chaos, Miles had nearly forgotten about the holiday arrival of Franziska's 36-year-old sister, Katharina Rudolf, and her 15-year-old daughter, Anneliese. The two women would be flying in from Switzerland, where the elder Von Karma sibling had been residing since her divorce from her husband, Günther, for the past nine years. Their company would be a welcome distraction from the otherwise quiet, sullen halls of the mansion, where the atmospheres had been far from festive despite the lavish Yuletide décor.

He adored his future sister-in-law and niece and hoped the exciting presence of the cheery duo coming home for the holidays would lift the dismal spirits that seemed to loom throughout the manor.

Maybe their visit would be the Christmas miracle he and Franziska so desperately needed. After all, it was supposed to be a time for loved ones. Moreover, the two sisters had always been close, in spite of living in separate countries. Perhaps reminding Franziska of their arrival would cheer her somewhat. Or, that very least, make her temporarily retire her whip. For the _day_ , anyway! They hadn't had a family Christmas in _ages_.

He cautiously opened the door to the master bedroom and saw the expecting mama was still sitting in the bed, but staring forlornly in the direction of the window, where the curtains were only partially opened, and a sliver of sunlight streamed through the otherwise darkened shaded room.

Miles walked over to the window, drew up the shades and pulled back the curtains, bathing the room in the bright morning sunlight, and affording them a view of the outside world.

It was breathtaking.

The sky was clear now, a perfect uninterrupted blue. A chilled squirrel hopped from tree to tree, carefully trotting on branches. Upon the numerous trees that lined the Von Karma backgrounds, the branches hung low with the weight of the snow. After yesterday's snowfall, the top layer was perfect powder, glittering under the morning sun like white sequins laying all over the floor. The green was still slightly visible under the brilliant white, contrasting perfectly in that "winter wonderland" sort of way. It was odd to think that the grass was down there, surviving as best it could until the spring melt, entombed in the compacted and icy layers lower down. The white blanketed layer on the ground looked as solid as a forest floor where one would sink right up to their knees or beyond.

Miles had forgotten how beautiful white Christmas weather, specifically in Germany, could be, as he'd grown so accustomed to sunny green ones in LA. Smiling slightly, he walked over and sat down near the foot of the bed and tried to read Franziska's expression. She was still facing the window, but rather than being taken by the outside beauty as he had been, she looked even more morose than ever. In fact, she seemed to be fighting back tears.

It didn't even take him a minute to realize that she was not doing well.

He strode over to her and softly asked, "What's wrong?"

No answer from Franziska.

He put his palm on her right cheek and leaned his face closer. She shoved his hand away.

"Get your foolish hands off me." Just a few words but they brought tears to her eyes as she spoke.

He swallowed back a lump in his throat. Never had he ever dreamed things would be the way they were now between them. How could he be so close, yet still be so far away from the _Frau_ he loved? He needed to believe she was still there underneath this sullen, angry woman who had taken over her body for the last few months. He would have given anything in the world to thaw her anger, to return that loving spark to her eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, covering her cheeks with his hands and wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

She jerked back and shook her head, her hair falling like a glossy silvery curtain in front of her face, obstructing it from his view.

"The servants think I am a fool, do they not?" She asked woodenly, finally lifting her head to meet his eyes with her own her lachrymose, watery ones. "Do not try to hide it from me. I already know."

"No!" Miles assured her, alarmed by the tears – Franziska so rarely cried. "Why would you say such a thing, _meine Dame_?"

"I can't do anything right," she replied dully. " _Meinem_ _Deutsch_ … my ability to speak my mother tongue…fading like the sunset over the horizon…"

_Slipping through my fingers, like sands through the hourglass…much like our relationship._

She didn't need to voice her additional thoughts. They both knew it.

She choked back a sob. She wanted to be perfect so much, even as a small child, and it killed her that she wasn't. She'd tried so hard to follow the Von Karma ways from her earliest memories, yet still, she'd strayed from the path. Ergo, it was exceptionally hard to move past her mistakes. She owned them, hold them as her own, and inwardly lashed at herself for all her follies that had led up to this moment; the one when Miles had caught her being weak and self-pitying. She wished she could accept that despite everything, he still loved her regardless. She only hoped that by the time all was said and done, she could fully believe it.

"I –I heard you and the maid outside the door, Miles. The day has come when I need _you_ , of all people, who was originally a foreigner to this country, to speak on _my_ behalf to people I have known _my_ entire life." She looked down. "I have no idea what came over me, lashing out like Helga this morning, like some sort of monster. I no longer know what is happening to me…with anything. Nothing makes much sense anymore."

Miles flushed slightly. Even though he'd thought he'd kept his voice down, Franziska had heard the conversation with Helga nevertheless. While it hadn't been an unkind discussion, it was more than likely embarrassing for such a proud _Dame_ like his fiancée to have the speaking flaws of her native language noted by the servants.

"She is aware of your delicate condition, Franziska," he told her gently, putting his hands in his robe pockets so he wouldn't give in to the urge to touch her again. "I don't mind being your translator…or helping matters in any way that is required. I'm sorry you feel bad about this, but she holds no grudges, _meine Dame,_ only concern. Hans and Helga both care about you. We all do."

She didn't answer, just sniffled slightly. He plucked a tissue from the box on the night table and discreetly handed her one, forcing himself to smile for her sake.

"Come now, I will draw your bath if you wish, Franziska. Please, be happy. Today is a joyful day, as your niece and sister are arriving around noon, and you don't want them to see you looking so downtrodden before Christmas, do you?"

"I can draw my own bath." Her countenance was once again haughty despite her still saddened eyes. "I shall be ready when they arrive. It will be nice to be with family. You go on and have your breakfast, Miles. I will meet you downstairs later."

She had dismissed him as easily as she would have the servants. She wouldn't even allow him to fill her tub with water for her. That was how estranged they now were, even though they lived under the same roof. His heart lurched painfully.

Two months later, the guilt was ice in his guts. It could be a hundred degrees out and he still felt frozen on the inside. He couldn't melt it on his own, he couldn't shift it at all. He needed her to bring her warmth, to show him that he could be better, that he could still be worthy of her.

"Franziska..." He began hesitantly, trying to find the right words.

She swung her legs off the bed and attempted to shimmy past him, en route to the en-suite bathroom, but he caught her arm.

"Please…" he pleaded, although he had no idea what he was begging for anymore.

She regarded him coolly with a challenging lift of her brows, waiting for him to continue, and when he didn't, shrugged her arm away from his grasp and attempted to brush past him again. He caught her by the hand this time, stilling her in mid-stride as he gazed at her with disheartened eyes.

" _Meine Dame_ , do you think you will ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" He asked desperately, having no clue what else to say at that moment but the obvious query hanging over both their heads like an ever-present Tachi blade. "Are we ever, _ever_ going to be all right again?"

There was a slight pause and for a moment he wondered if she was even going to reply to the query, but to his surprise, rather than responding, she rebutted with one of her own.

"I could state the obvious yet again, Miles, and tell you that once trust is shattered, nothing can but a miracle can mend the rift it creates," she replied staunchly. "But I will not this time. Instead, I need you to answer the one thing that has been niggling my mind. Tell me, _why_?"

"Wh – what?" He stammered, startled. "Why _what_ , Franziska? If it's about why I didn't give you full disclosure, I've explained that I didn't want to upset you in your current condition and …"

She waved away the explanation with a dismissive hand.

" _Nein_ , not that." She sighed. "We have beaten that long-dead horse far too many times already. What I want to know is why… _her_ , Miles? As in: why, _Lana_ _?"_

He gawked at her; not sure he understood the question.

"I can see the attraction, surely," Franziska stated bluntly, peering up at him with an unwavering grey gaze. "Surely Lana Skye is attractive enough – in a cheap, tawdry sort of way – I suppose. Thence, if such was your preference, so be it. I do not mean _why_ in _that_ sense. What I mean is… _why_ … _her_ _?"_

He stared at her, still utterly bewildered.

She swallowed and tears suddenly sparkled in her eyes beautiful eyes once more.

"Why her…and not _me_?" Her voice shook. "I loved you my entire life! I had thought that I had even made that obvious for long enough! You have always known me so well; seen through any walls or shields I ever tried to draw up and sent them crumbling to the ground. There was a time I wondered if _you_ had known me better than I had ever known _myself_ and were aware that I loved you even before _I_ was! Yet ultimately, I was not enough. You chose _her_. Why Miles? Where was _I_ lacking?"

Miles felt as if the rug had been yanked from beneath him. He struggled for words. He had no idea what the right ones could possibly be. She'd _always_ loved him? As in since… _when_ _?_ Childhood? Teenage years? When it would have been illegal, even by comparatively relaxed European standards, to _entertain_ the notion of her even in his _mind_ _?!_ He ran through the mental math in his head and hissed through his teeth.

"God's knuckles! For one thing, at the time Lana and I were together, you were only _15_ , Franziska!" He exclaimed. "I was 22 … and already a prosecutor in the States! I wasn't even in the country, ergo I could hardly be aware of any developing, non-sisterly affections you might have been harboring for me!"

"I essentially threw myself at you on more than one occasion – you must have at least _suspected!"_ She snapped, narrowing her eyes. "Was I simply not _mature_ enough for you at the time, Little Brother?"

Miles shook his head. She couldn't be serious, surely? It _had_ to be the pregnancy hormones. She was being even _more_ maddeningly irrational than _ever_ _!_

"Christ on a cross bike, that has little to do with _anything_ Franziska!" He exclaimed. "At the time, given the age difference betwixt us, it would have been _illegal_ in America _and_ pretty much every country on The Continent! Not to mention the fact that up until you were of legal age in both countries, it would have just been _wrong_ on _so many different levels!"_

Franziska still didn't seem convinced and he had a sudden urge to want to bash his forehead against the wall in the manner of Manfred Von Karma. Instead, Miles expelled a ragged breath.

"Last but not least, how about including that your father would have had me castrated, beheaded, and then drawn and quartered – and not even necessarily in that order! You were his baby _daughter_ … and raised as my _Big Sister,_ for the love of the saints!"

"Legalities aside, I would have waited for you," her lip trembled. "Forever, if I had needed to. Because there was _nobody_ else for me but _you_ Miles! But _you_ … tell me, did you love her?"

" _No_ _,"_ he stated, without hesitation. "She was never mine to love."

"What does that even mean?" Her eyes were barely visible slits now. "Was it just some cheap, tawdry affair?"

He looked away guiltily then, and she sucked in a breath.

" _Mein Gott_ … Did she …belong to another?"

"It was a long time ago, Franziska," he said tiredly. "I will lament and try to atone my sins until the day I draw my last breath, but what need is there to rehash the gory details of days long past now?"

"Who ended the affair?" She demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"What does that matter?"

"Because I have seen the way you were around her, and it indicated that your previous trysts with her meant more than just a few meaningless rolls in the hay," Franziska informed him loftily. "If your history with that _Schlampe_ had merely been a few casual romps and then you had simply discarded her like a filthy _Hure_ and sent her back to her cuckolded lover, you never would have seemed so… _conflicted_ when she came back into your life again."

"Franziska, please stop this. I told you that I didn't love her."

"Yet _you_ were not the one to end the affair were you, Miles?" Realization dawned on her face. "Which means that you may have never entirely gotten _over_ her, either."

" _Meine Dame_ , this is ridiculous. I love _you_ now. None of this even matters anymore."

"Whatever history you had with Lana Skye, you felt it was significant enough to lie to your fiancée about, Miles." Her tone was wary. "Therefore, I am afraid I don't agree with you in that regard. It _does_ matter. And, to a certain degree, it seems, so does _she_."

"You're wrong, Franziska!" His voice was hoarse as he looked at her pleadingly. "So, so wrong…"

She held up her hand to stop him.

"Closure, Miles," Franziska said quietly, defeatedly. "Until you and Lana have that, I do not think you will ever _fully_ be free to love me, no matter what you say. Ergo, until you achieve that with her, there is naught more for you and me to say to one another regarding this matter."

With that, she released her hand from his grip and walked into the bathroom then, shutting the door behind her and leaving a distraught Miles in her wake.

Their argument was cold. Every word was over-pronounced, slicing rather than tumbling through the dry air. The love hadn't gone, it had been distorted into a close mimic of hatred; and just as love endured, so would the wall of bitterness that separated them, growing more thorns every day.

* * *

**_I stay on the 64 squares, while patrolling the center,  
_ ** **_Trading space from material, the time zone I enter.  
_ ** **_It's calculated by movement, from pushed pieces,  
_ ** **_Advancements and development, once the pawn reaches,  
_ ** **_To eighth-ranked now heavily armed with a tank,  
_ ** **_My opponent's base is threatened, soldiers cut with shanks.  
_ ** **_Moved all my small pieces, MC's are driven back,  
_ ** **_Unable to avoid capture from the attack._ **

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Nur Herren, Herren Assoziation_  
December 22, 2024, 3:30 PM

The chilly environment within the house had gotten to be too much for Miles after that. After forcing himself to smile and play the congenial host and loving fiancé throughout the delicious brunch that Hans had prepared, (although he'd scarcely had an appetite after the altercation with his fiancée earlier) for the benefit of Katharina and Anneliese, he'd finally been able to murmur his polite excuses and leave the mansion, citing the need for some fresh air.

His sister-in-law had offered to come with him, but he'd insisted she stay with Franziska and play catch up. They had indeed brought along Phoenix, who had still been prancing gleefully out in the snowy backyard with Pess when he'd set out.

He needed to clear his head. And luckily, within walking distance, he knew just the place he could do it, as well.

The wind whispered as the snow fell like confetti on his wooly cap. He gazed at the untouched snow in front of me. The swirling white and the lush grass collided. The shrubs and trees were stained with white. The ground was as smooth as a cake and the snow fell like icing powder, perfecting it to its finest point.

Intricate patterns of ice floated weightlessly downward from the pure white sky above, each flake swirling and dancing, as an icy wind carried it toward a group of intrepid travelers.

Once upon a time, Miles had been used to this kind of weather, so he had no qualms walking through the whitened landscape. The trek took over half an hour on foot, but he didn't mind.

Large flakes fell from the sky; as if angels in heaven were having a pillow fight. Although the snow was beautiful, it was cold and sharp. Crisp, white, pristine, shining covering that transformed the landscape making it a magical land full of wonder and undiscovered mysteries.

He enjoyed everything about this kind of weather, the satisfaction of being the first to make an impression in a blanket of freshly lain snow, the subtle crunch underfoot as he strode forward and the best bit of all ... the sight of low hanging shafts of sunlight illuminating the sparkling whitened scene before him.

By now, sitting in the soft leather chaise lounge by the roaring fireplace, he was settled, toasty, and feeling in somewhat more raised spirits as he slowly sipped from his tumbler of brandy at _Nur Herren¸_ a members-only haven of serenity, as well as his favorite gentlemen's club in all of Europe.

The restricted club was no regular drop-in center. Acquiring a new membership required a proposal from an existing member, and the final decision was made by a secret ballot. Not for individuals of arid and fusty character, the club's original criterion was that 'it would be better that ten objectionable men should be excluded than one terrible bore should be admitted.'

Gaining entry to such an elite establishment was often a nepotistic endeavor for most, but being the adopted ward of Manfred Von Karma certainly had had a few elite societal privileges; his membership at the exclusive, prestigious club was among them.

The ancient building was one of the oldest gentlemen's clubs in Germany, first established in 1762 as a private society. The club was now housed in a grand yellow brick and Portland stone building, which mimicked the style of early Dutch country houses. Amongst the blathering's, enunciated by its raffish members, were its famous gaming rooms, where fortunes were slung at the feet of Lady Luck.

The club offered its members a variety of facilities, including a fully equipped gym, swimming pool, a billiards room, a business room (as no working papers were allowed in the public rooms), and club sports teams to partake in. _Nur Herren_ also offered its members access to an abundant, majestic bar, dining room, and library. Members also enjoyed the privilege of chambers for overnight stays and an extensive wine cellar.

Some notable alumni included diplomats, socialites, politicians and even royalty from all over the continent.

He'd initially set out to find some quiet solitude, but ultimately, such a fate was not meant to be his. As soon as he'd sat down with his filled cognac glass in front of the marble game board on the granite table, he was soon joined by another, very _familiar_ -looking guest, who had immediately challenged the prosecutor to his favorite game.

Miles Edgeworth had never been one to refuse the cerebral pursuit known as chess.

Silence reigned within the library at the corner where the logic enthusiast furrowed his brow, his stealthy fingers silently plucking a rook from its place on the black and white battlefield and moving it towards his opponent's side. Wincing as he realized the grave error he'd had made, Miles closed his eyes and pictured the board in his mind, mentally working out that there was only one way to win from here.

_If…if he moves any one of those two pieces there…Eureka! I can move my piece and take his king, securing my victory!_

It was all up to Lady Luck now.

A mere game of chess was turning out much harder than the barrister had anticipated, and as he leaned back on his mahogany and leather chair, which matched the color scheme of the room, he felt the tension rising.

Purposeful resolve suddenly took over his mind, though, and a grim, determined smile came over his face.

Miles Edgeworth had _never_ been beaten in chess. _Ever._

_The game of chess is like a sword fight. You must think first before you move._

If _this_ _man_ , of all people, beat him, he didn't think his ego would ever be able to recover.

_Sweet coincidence of Port-au-Prince! He's slower than a snail on a treadmill! Make your move, dammit!_

His opposition chortled loudly, and the cravat wearer barely suppressed a shiver of revulsion. There was no genuine mirth behind the sound; it didn't sound real. It resounded in his ears, a devious, sardonic laugh that he knew would ring endlessly throughout his mind for days thereafter.

The chess lover knew the meaning of that laugh, though. It meant something was being hidden. A secret, a lie, or worse – _the truth_.

There had only been one other time in his life that the prosecutor had encountered a diabolical cackle such as this. It was eerily reminiscent of the sounds emitted by his late malevolent mentor, Manfred von Karma, while he'd been growing up. When Franziska's late father had finally been exposed as the evil, vicious monster he was, the legal eagle had at last comprehended why, as a boy, the older man would often clutch his right shoulder whenever his protégé had come around, or laugh in such an unsettling manner whenever Miles had left.

The fearsome German prosecutor's emanated sound of alleged mirth had always made him inexplicably shudder in both fear and repulsion – much like it was now.

Such a mindset was completely illogical and ridiculous, he chastised himself. Now was hardly the time for taking unpleasant strolls down memory lane. He had a chess game to focus on!

"A most regrettable move, Edgeworth. What were you thinking?" The jeering face of the opponent seated across from him made Miles grit teeth in frustration. "Did you get too cocky, thinking you had the upper hand till now?"

_No one insults the way Miles Edgeworth plays chess._ **_No one_ ** _._

As it was, he had more than one reason to want to knock that smarmy expression off the challenger's phizog, reasons which had _naught_ to do with any type of board game.

However, he was a polite gentleman by nature first and foremost. Moreover, they were in a _gentlemen's club_ and hence, should act accordingly.

Ergo, he had to satisfy himself with merely clenching his hands into tight fists under the table.

"Ludicrous on my behalf indeed."

As he forced out an amiable chuckle, it abruptly came to a halt and effectively died in his throat as the man opposite him smiled benignly, the sight making the normally unruffled barrister's insides tremble as suppressed memories from another lifetime began flashing through his mind.

Other than Manfred Von Karma, there had been only _one_ other person who'd exuded similar facial arrangements. As he mentally drew the parallel to the fiend in question who'd triggered the memory, the realization was downright harrowing.

Dahlia Hawthorne.

The titian haired, ethereal beauty had also possessed the radiant beam of an angel, which she'd used to mask the heart of a cold-blooded killer. The demonic femme fatale had also used to smile in such a beatific manner, forever leaving the legist with a desperate, burning desire to know what had been going on in her deranged mind at the time.

"No matter," Miles nervously cleared his throat. "Let's move on, shall we?" He made his play, then waited with bated breath. "Now, then, I shall take this piece of mine …"

His last move would determine if he was leading to the path of his downfall… or his victory. He had no way of ascertaining what the outcome would be, and he loathed relying on chance, as he had never been a gambling man.

He took a sip of liquor to calm his nerves.

"…and move it right here."

_Victory is mine!_ Miles crowed silently as he merrily moved his pawn to the king's space and took it with a smug grin on his face.

"Checkmate," he drawled with considerable relish.

He couldn't resist a smirk as the opposition let out a bellow of vexation and dropped his head into his hands with defeat. It was a heady feeling, triumphing over someone in this manner, the adrenaline rush just as invigorating outside the courtroom as inside of it.

_That will teach him to try and trash talk Miles Edgeworth during a chess game!_

Miles reached down for his tumbler again, the action making his eyes drop downward and at that moment, get a view at his opponent's formerly obstructed hand.

His eyes widened in shock and horror.

The other man's hand had acquired a deformed, demonic face on the back of it that twitched as the disfigurement moved, blood vessels showing up clearly next to the scars.

It was the most petrifying thing Miles had ever seen for a very long time and he was alarmed at how disturbed he was by the vision. He tried to think logically against the mounting fear within him. It had to be his imagination.

He blinked hard.

The hand was back to normal.

Shaking his head, he sighed with relief and let out a long breath as the fear dissipated from him.

Mayhap the alcohol he was consuming had been too strong for his sensibilities, or he'd just been shaken out of the norm after his argument with Franziska.

_Don't be foolish, Miles. Keep calm and carry on._

The other man rose from his seat and gave a begrudging smile of respect.

"How did you manage to turn things around like that? It occurred so unexpectedly that I barely had a chance to figure out what was going on."

Miles smiled indulgently.

"I once knew a man who would appear to be losing every court trial, right up until the last moment, when he would do a complete turnabout and snatch victory from my grasp. I have only once in my life been able to defeat that man and I have never heard of anyone else beating him since then."

The man opposite him wrinkled his forehead as if in contemplation, his eyes suddenly becoming vacant of all countenance as Miles' words sank in. Then a diabolical expression crossed his mien.

" _Herr_ Wright, I believe is whom you're referring to, Edgeworth. _Phoenix Wright_." The other man spat out, with such undisguised rancor that Miles was taken aback.

What could this man have against _Phoenix_ , a man who'd shared his shared occupational field? Whatever could have caused him to speak his best friend's name with such vindictive, contemptuous _loathing_?

_This person is genuinely disquieting me…despite his clean-cut, wholesome appearance, every instinct I have warns that he is nowhere as innocent as everyone thinks. However, I could be wrong. Wright did chastise me for being too cynical and overly suspicious of everyone. No, I must be wrong; I have no evidence to support my sudden discomfiture. This man can't be a criminal! Wright doesn't even fully suspect him anymore, even though there was a time that_ **_I_ ** _thought otherwise! What evidence do I have, except this nagging, churning feeling in the pit of my stomach?_

It was the disingenuous laugh, Miles realized. That horrible, evil laugh. Those cold, shark-like eyes. That demonic hand….

Most of all, it was the unprecedented, bitter malice he'd heard when the other man had uttered his childhood mate's name.

The lawyer dug his hands into his pockets and curled them into fists, even tighter than he had before.

_No matter what the name, we're all the same pieces in one big chess game._

"Anyway, Edgeworth, it's been a real treat bumping into you here, of all places." The underdog smiled again at the attorney, although it came across as more of an awful leer. "I'd certainly be up for another game sometime if you are."

"Verily." He smiled politely. "I can never say no to a spirited game of chess."

"I'm here for the holidays visiting my family but will be back in the States early in the New Year. Should you ever need anything, Mr. Prosecutor, don't hesitate to call me. There's a good reason I'm renowned as the _Coolest Defense Attorney in the West,_ you know."

"I am well aware," he replied stiffly. "I'm sure our paths will cross again soon."

_"Auf Wiedersehen_ , Miles Edgeworth."

"Farewell for now … Kristoph Gavin."

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth_** _  
_ _Outside Nur Herren, Herren Assoziation_  
 _Germany_  
December 22, 2024, 4:30 PM

As soon as the German man had left, Miles listened to Kristoph's footsteps die away down the corridor towards the elevator. Then he took a deep breath, took a quick assessment of his surroundings, grabbed his jacket, and headed outside, preparing for his journey home.

The moment he left the club, he picked up his cell and frantically dialed a number. It rang three times, and just before the voicemail message instructions began to monotonously direct Edgeworth to 'leave a message after the tone', someone picked up on the other end.

"Wright Talent Agency. Vice-President Phoenix Wright speaking."

"Wright … sit down. We need to talk. _Now."_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wu-Tang Clan- Weak Spot


	61. Never Gonna Give You Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When the right chance to love comes in hand, you have not to let it go. It might be the last chance you would've been waiting for and when it's gone, you will never see it again."

_Two months ago...  
_

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Edgeworth Master Bedroom (aka Love Shack)_  
October 26, 2024, 7:30 AM

Edgeworth's curt reminder of the Band-Aid solution Phoenix had been settling for a fortnight ago had been the exact kick in the pants the former defense attorney had needed. However painful the knowledge was that he had indeed, gotten overly lax and complacent due to the happy bubble he'd been living in with Maya, and his mostly low-stress gig at the bar, the execrable, inescapable reality of his situation had needed to be addressed.

So since that fateful phone call, the spiky-haired man had sprung into action, taking the bull by the horns, resuming investigations, trying to get to the bottom of the events surrounding Trucy's grandfather's death and the forged diary page and his disbarring with such grim, determined gusto that this time, try as he might, he hadn't been able to hide things from Maya, who was most deeply disturbed.

A few weeks after that initial phone call in October, she'd awoken from her satiated slumber the next morning and had been concerned about the haunted look on her boyfriend's face as he'd lain there on the bed, arms behind his head, gazing sightlessly at the busy, sunken rectangular panels on the coffered ceiling.

Sidling over to his side of the bed, she rubbed her bare form against his and placed a soft kiss on his exposed, muscled chest, then rested her shining head there, looking up at him expectantly.

No response from her lover.

Maya lay there staring, unnoticed, up at his set jaw and vacant gaze for a few moments before she had no choice but to wave her hand in front of his face.

"Earth to Nick!" She teased, snapping her fingers when it appeared he didn't appear to be reacting to her palm resting inches from his nose. "Come in, Nick!"

Phoenix started, as though he literally hadn't noticed that there was a warm, naked female pressing her curves up against his bare flesh and was now gazing at him with an expression of combined love and concern. Looking down, he met his girlfriend's troubled gaze and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, guess I was spacing out there for a sec." He lifted his head and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What's up, Maya?"

"Every guy that looks at me!" She quipped, momentarily ignoring her misgivings about his troubled state and flashing a sassy wink. "But I'm not complaining!"

Phoenix stared at her for a moment, then gave a throaty chuckle at her naughty punny wit.

"While not at all untrue, especially in the case with _this_ guy here," he drawled, a slow smile of appreciation tugging at his lips as he ran his fingers through her long tresses and then let them fall back in a satiny curtain over his bare torso. "I also see nothing is lacking with _your_ self-confidence, Miss Fey."

" _Should_ there be?" She derided, arching an eyebrow and taking a peek under the sheets to assess just _how_ true his statement was before looking back at up at him with a sultry expression that made his blood pressure, among other things, rise.

" _Never_ with _me_ , wanton vixen," he growled, quickly flipping over so he had her pinned beneath him on the mattress. He flashed her a wicked grin. "Allow me to _prove_ to you just _how_ confident you should be in your ability to make things _go up_ in your presence … and what will _always_ happen whenever it does…"

With that, he proceeded to give her a _thorough_ demonstration of just _exactly_ what the result was when such matters did _arise_ _!_

Sometime later, the satiated psychic drowsily lifted her head from his chest again and poked him playfully in the side.

"While that was a most _toe-curling_ way to prove the validity of my glib words, don't think I don't know what you were trying to do, Phoenix Wright! I'm onto you!"

"I am most wounded by your insinuations that I was motivated by anything but the desire of having a glorious morning romp with the most gorgeous, sexy woman on the planet!" Phoenix looked at her with feigned innocence. "I wasn't trying to _do_ anything! Well, besides _you_ , anyway…"

"Listen, Nick, while I may have allowed myself to willingly succumb to such sinful distraction this _one_ time…" Maya giggled, then looked at him sternly. "Rest assured, I'm not always going to let you get away with trying to make love to me just because you don't want to discuss what's going on in that overly complex noggin of yours!"

" _Tried_ _?"_ He asked mock-indignantly, lazily twirling a lock of raven hair around his finger and smiling smugly. "I think we can _both_ attest that I was most successful in my endeavors, was I not?"

It wasn't as though he was purposefully trying to mislead his girlfriend. It was just that Phoenix had gotten so used to the fine art of bluffing at this point in his life; at masking his true emotions behind an empty or polite smile. At work, he smiled for eight hours a day, and then well into the evenings, for the sake of his daughter. It was a requirement of both his jobs, fake Pianist and real Papa. It was only when he was alone, that he would let his face fall into neutral, let his mouth lie in a thin morbid line and his cheeks rest.

But once in a while, he would turn on the faux grin, without thinking, for his girlfriend, like he was now, and she would just stare at him, aghast. Maya didn't want to see the smile with his mouth, she wanted the smile with his _eyes_. She would take just a soft look of contentment over that façade of a grin. She'd tell him, quite firmly, "Phoenix Wright, I'd rather an honest scowl to _that_!"

Such was her disposition on that matter at that very moment.

"Cut it out, Nick." Maya sat up then and fixed him with her best don't-mess-with-me stare. "You were mentally in another dimension earlier when I first woke up. Don't deny it. I know when something's on your mind. What's going on? Is it your investigation? Have you finally gotten any solid leads?"

Before he could reply, they heard the tell-tale sound of the dining bell Hendricks had discreetly rung, to let them know that despite his ninja-like stealth, he was not only present (and more than likely had heard their recent mid-morning bam-bam in the ham!) but that he'd come in and prepared breakfast.

"I don't know about you my love, but I'm starved!" The hobo grinned excitedly and rolled out of bed, appearing far too relieved at the impromptu reprieve for the Master's liking, and reached for his jeans. "You sure made me work up quite the appetite, you temptress! I'm going to wash up later. See you at the breakfast table!"

Maya sat there fuming yet again at the butler's ill-timing as she threw on her nightie. Sure, Hendricks hadn't cock blocked them _this_ time, but somehow, _this_ was almost worse! Getting information out of the tight-lipped pianist was like pulling teeth. She just _knew_ when her other half was up to something and hiding things from her, and she _hated_ it! Weren't there already enough secrets and hidden factors going on?!

Such as the fact that his daughter, for reasons she could _no longer fathom,_ to this day, still knew _nothing_ of her existence?!

The diviner truly loved hearing Phoenix talk about Trucy. He always beamed with such love, especially when he told her how he'd survived some of the most mortifying moments of parenthood – from the dueling cyclones PMS incident to the sexy DILF scenario (she'd been smirking with pride at that one – yes, her man _was_ a total hottie but he was _all hers_ _!_ ) to the side-splitting anecdote of the bra-shopping excursion.

In all the time she'd known him, her swain had never been like that about anything else, so happy and full of joyful pride, not even when he'd performed those miraculous, Baron of Bluffing courtroom turnabouts. The more she heard about the little girl, the more her insides wept with sadness that she hadn't met her future (she _hoped_ , anyway!) daughter. Just listening to the anecdotes from the Gumshoes, Pearly, and especially her boyfriend, Maya fell a little bit more in love with the magician each day.

It gutted her more and more daily that after nearly six years, despite Pearly, the Gumshoes, Franziska, Miles, and Larry knowing they were together, she was still a dirty little secret from Trucy and she didn't understand why!

Sadly, they both knew it wouldn't be long until the teen had to move on to pursue her predestined Troupe Gramarye path or head to college, and she knew he dreaded the day he'd be all by his lonesome again. Maya desperately wanted to ensure they were together before Trucy moved out. No matter what her boyfriend claimed to the contrary, the spirit medium knew, from witnessing his self-destructive path post-disbarring, that Phoenix would not be able to handle being alone again.

Aside from feeling like the forlorn girlfriend forced to watch her loved ones lives silently from the sidelines, Maya's life had of course gotten easier and slightly better since they'd found a way to extinguish the flames of The Dragon Lady. However, she knew, instinctively, that it wouldn't be for good, and that the wretched village elder was probably still _steaming_ – if only as a means to _keep warm_ since her banishment to the colder outskirts of the village to help Bikini with the cabin rentals!

Improved, yes. But it didn't mean that things were _perfect_ by any means! The village leader still sometimes felt as trapped as ever at times due to the albatross around her neck, otherwise known as her life of Kurain Master, where the moral, obligatory duty to the village and its people belied all else. Including her own happiness.

Maya knew she should be grateful and be honoring her ancestors by fulfilling her destined path, but, frankly, she still hated it. While having the X-Men mutant ability to channel spirits was fun at times, and was sort of like having a superpower, the onuses that dictated that she thus needed to behave a certain way and project an image that just wasn't her was aggravating.

She was just…Maya. Forget _Master_ Maya – she even hated being called _Mystic_ Maya. She wasn't some sophisticate, spiritual or super talented leader – she refused to eat forfeit burgers and fulfill a vegan diet, and got more stoked about the airing of the latest upcoming TV series adapted from the _Steel Samurai_ on-going series than she did about the ceremonies and rituals associated with the order! (The latest was the one where _Pink Princess_ married the _Steel Samurai_ and had given birth to the Bronze Baby. Phoenix completely enjoyed ribbing her about her addiction to the children's show – she, in turn, had laughingly told him he was getting the full DVD set for Christmas and she wanted detailed reports on each episode henceforth because it was important to her that he proved he was becoming familiarized with something so important to her).

Her only solace from it all was the bi-weekly visits with her boyfriend, where she could enjoy the almost-paradise experience and try to forget that despite the tenure of it, theirs was still essentially a clandestine affair.

For reasons she just didn't _comprehend_ anymore!

_Why_ couldn't they just tell the elders that she'd decided to blatantly disregard their orders about cutting ties with Phoenix and was still with him? While Maya had no idea what the elders would do to her, in the end, did it matter? They could just get through it together, shrug, and say, 'what's done is done.'

Honestly, if the necromancer _had_ to choose something that would cause her to be totally disgraced and potentially excommunicated over, it was her love for Phoenix Wright. Traditions and her prestigious title be _damned_ _!_ Lately, she'd been giving him hints that she was ready to just say to hell with it all, Pearly could soon take over as Master in her stead, and that they should just come out of hiding.

And yet Phoenix _continued_ to go along with the status quo!

It made her so frustrated at times she could have screamed!

Crap on a spatula, Maya had a biological clock that was ticking so loudly that it was keeping her up at night! She'd be pushing _30_ soon enough! _Her_ _eggs_ had an expiry date even if _his sperm_ didn't! There were countless times she wanted to grab him by his hooded shirt, shake him mercilessly and scream: _We're losing valuable time here, Old Man!_

The darkness of her brooding thoughts resulted in breakfast that morning being a solemn affair. It was mostly eaten in such terse silence that the normally jovial Hendricks had quickly excused himself from the premises shortly after serving them, not even bothering to make his usual humorous quips about reminding them not to be ' _waking up the neighbors and making their hairs stand on end_ ' like last time or ' _don't try to take any_ _ **Steel Samurai**_ _memorabilia – just because it wasn't nailed or locked away didn't mean there wasn't a silent alarm attached to it_ _!'_

The butler, as if sensing the unfamiliar tension between the couple, post serving and cleanup, had politely made his excuses, bowed, and hastily bid them adieu.

Without the clattering and sounds of the Englishman in the kitchen, the daunting silence at the table was all the more glaring.

The spirit medium just sat there, fuming, idly pushing her spoon around in her remaining pool of homemade Greek yogurt and berry parfait Hendricks had served them as part of their delicious breakfast. She could feel Phoenix's eyes on her from across the table, but she was so upset, she didn't trust herself to speak just yet.

Just a few moments ago, Trucy had called her father's cell to ask him something and he'd dared to _shush_ her and motion to keep quiet in the background while he spoke with his daughter! Such had been par for the course over the years, but this time, for some reason, it was eating her up inside. She was worried she'd say something she'd regret.

" _Maya_ …" his voice was gentle, pleading. "Maya, look at me."

She didn't respond, just focused on making designs and patterns in the vanilla-flavored pool on her plate with her cutlery. She idly drew a heart shape, then scowled at it and vehemently crossed it out, breaking the image into two, because suddenly, that was _exactly_ how broken up she was feeling about the _entire crappy situation!_

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. After all, she only saw the man she loved two weekends of the month. Neither of them worked that day, so she may as well make the most of their time together and make nice, despite her misery, as per usual.

_Think happy thoughts, Maya. Smile through the tears. It's who you are. It's what you do._

So she lifted her head and plastered on her best Master of Kurain grin for him. She had mastered her fake smile, right down to the wrinkles around her eyes; had perfected it for many years. Right after she'd been kidnapped, and her mother had died, because she had to be strong, for Pearl's sake. This aura of feigned cheer and smiles had become so convincing that no one ever questioned her.

Except for one person. He saw in her eyes, the windows to her soul, and held onto her gaze steadily, searchingly, as the facade crumbled into a real grimace. Disconcerted that he'd seen through her veneer, she dropped her eyes down to her lap then.

Phoenix got up from his seat, walked around the table, and stood in front of her. When she still refused to look up at him, he crouched below her so she had no choice but to look down at his imploring visage.

"My love, please tell me what's wrong. I don't understand. It's like you're mad about something, and I don't get it. Talk to me. Please."

Maya exploded then as she clenched her hands into fists, squeezing them between her knees as she was overcome with the sudden urge to strike him. All her pent up rage, resentment, and hurt, which she hadn't realized she'd been harboring came spewing out of her like an erupting volcano.

_"Talk_ to you? What do you want to hear, Nick? About how shitty that phone call just made me feel? About how shitty this _whole situation_ makes me feel, in general? Or about how I can't believe that I'm  
 _still_ sneaking around with you? How agonized I am that I have to be hidden in the closet like a filthy whore when it comes to the daughter of the boyfriend, whom I only see a couple of times a month, because of the same old, trite, bullshit excuses?"

Phoenix rocked back on his crouched heels, looking stunned and wounded by the verbal onslaught, but Maya didn't care. Red-hot tears ran down her face, each one carving furrows down her normally cheery features as she at long last poured it all out to her completely gobsmacked boyfriend.

"It was one thing when the Children's Services was breathing down your neck, Nick, but Trucy has been legally yours for ages now! Pearly sees you as her _father_! _She_ knows about us –plus _all_ our friends! Our girls are _best friends_ – _my_ little girl sees _your_ daughter as her cousin! Yet _I've_ never even met her! How do you think that makes me feel, knowing she doesn't even know I exist? Do you _still_ tell her it's Santa giving her those mystery presents on Christmas and her birthday?"

She didn't wait for him to reply as she angrily brushed aside the unending streams from her cheeks and continued in her tirade.

"I just don't even understand why you won't just let me confess the truth to the elders and be done with it! When it comes to the elders, Nick, we both know there's no pleasing them…so I just don't get it!" She paused then because her voice was hoarse from shouting, and she buried her head in her palms. She felt so lost.

"Maya, I know you're mad, and I don't blame you…" Phoenix reached his hand out to draw her to him, but she smacked it away.

"Don't touch me!"

"I'm sorry." He sounded like he was choking, stifling his own tears.

That was something Maya just couldn't do any longer – fight back her tears no matter how hard she tried. He reached for her again, and this time, she buried her head against his body for a second; it was so hard but warm and safe. It was her Nick. But she was absolutely furious with him right now. So she put her hands against the firm wall of his chest and pushed him away.

"I said, don't touch me!" She was still crying, her cheeks wet with tears. But she didn't wipe them away. She didn't want to be like him, fighting away tears and hiding emotions.

He didn't try to get closer to her again. He sat down and tucked his knees to his chest, put his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands, then started breathing slowly, much like she often did, when she didn't know what to do. It made her feel angrier. How could they both be so different, and yet so alike at the same time?

_I love Nick more than my own life, but it's been six years!_ _**Six years,** _ _goddammit! It's not like we have to shack up or get hitched right away, but I'm tired of the sneaking around!_

How she wished her big sister were still alive! Mia, she was certain, would have told her to throw in the towel ages ago, of that she was certain. Then she would harangue him as though he were one of her witnesses in the hot seat on the stand, and mercilessly point out incriminating evidence and every _contradiction_ between his actions and his supposed "love" for her! Or else, she would have helped her younger sibling make sense of this! Well, either that or _beat Nick senseless_ with his beanie – or some _other_ choice of weapon, on Maya's behalf!

The last image nearly made her laugh out loud. A slight titter escaped her lips.

Phoenix lifted his head hopefully at the sound of the laugh, and his despondent expression was replaced by one of compassion as he looked at her. His kind eyes showed gentle concern as he reached over and laid his hand lightly on her shoulder, and instead of flinching again, she was soothed by it. He left his hand there and spoke with such a soft voice she felt his words calming her more by the way they were said than the actual words. It felt as if she were wrapped in a blanket of his caring. How could she not consider her actions now, now that she could see how profoundly they affected him too?

"It'll be OK, my love. We will get through this, I swear it."

She released her hands from their clenched state and fell forward, off her chair, into his arms. As soon as she had cleared her tears away, a fresh torrent bust forth. Her body was wracked with great sobs and she shook like a leaf. The noisy sobs echoed throughout the high ceilings of the empty condo.

He pulled her to his chest where she stayed until her crying subsided. When she finally looked at him, her beautiful brown eyes were swollen and sore.

"I am _so_ mad at you!" She wailed. "I- I'm just so sick of the _lying_ and the _sneaking around_ and the _denial_! This shouldn't be happening to me, to _us_! I love you. We should be together and I shouldn't have to be freaking out about this!"

"I know, Maya." No poker-face in the world could have masked his regretful eyes, his sorrowful expression. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I am _so_ sick and tired of you saying that! I'm done, Nick. I'm _done_. I'm _tired_ of being your dirty little secret, you hear me?"

He looked stricken, but he took his hand to the back of her head and pulled her towards him.

"Why are you so ashamed of me, Nick?" She resumed bawling and Phoenix looked even more agonized, which just made her want to punch him again. "What have I ever done to be so unworthy?"

"Is _that_ what you think? Maya, how can you think this isn't killing me, too? You think I've enjoyed having my clueless but well-meaning daughter trying to _pimp me out_ to everyone from her _teachers to lifeguards_ over the years because she wants a new mommy?" His voice broke slightly. "You don't think I _die a thousand deaths_ that I can't even tell her that I found her future mommy – _years ago_? Do you genuinely think I don't want to be with you, and have the world know? Shout it out on the rooftops that I'm the luckiest, happiest man on earth because you're _mine_?"

She regarded his anguished expression, wanting to believe him, yet still torn between wanting to hug and slug him!

"I don't know _what_ to think, Nick. You keep me in the dark about _everything_. You won't explain to me why you think I'm in danger, or about your plans, and I'm starting to think that you're completely insane! You're obviously not ever going to move on with your life to the point where I will get to be with you!" The psychic cried, glaring at him stormily through her steaming eyes. "I can't believe that I was so blinded by love that I honestly believed we would come out together at the end of all this! I've been listening to your ridiculous conspiracy theories all these years! Mystic Ami help me, I feel so freaking naïve…so…so … _stupid_ _!"_

"I know I must seem crazy, but Maya I know what I'm doing now," he pleaded. "Please, just give me just a little more time."

"Why does this matter? Why should your disbarment have anything to do with us?" She demanded. "Are you punishing me for not being there? I don't understand anymore!"

"Jesus Haploid Christ, _no!"_ He looked appalled at the notion. "Maya, please don't say that ever again…the one who's being punished here is _me_." He choked back a sob. "Know I am naught but a dead man walking _every single moment_ that I'm not with you … there's not a minute of the day when I'm not thinking about you, wanting to just to lose myself in you and bask in your every breath, in your very presence…"

"It's the same thing for me." She eyed him morosely. "I can't live without you either, Nick."

"So stop talking this way! You don't ever have to!" He swore, pulling her into his arms and raining frantic kisses all over her forehead and cheeks and chin. "Maya, please trust me. I have a game plan in motion now, and I _will_ get to the bottom of this all … keep faith in me, my love, just a _little_ bit longer, that's all I ask."

"I do trust you, Nick," she sniffled. "I _have_ to. I love you too much not to. I don't want to let you go … I _need_ you."

"I need you too, Maya." He uttered a half moan, half groan as his urgent lips claimed hers. "I'll _always_ need you. _Want_ you. _Crave_ you…"

The diviner completely surrendered to the heated embrace then, to the ardor, to the meaningful words. To everything in that heated moment.

The kiss grew more fiery and passionate. They clawed at one another like a couple of wild animals ready to devour. Lips still fused together, they stumbled down the hallway into the bedroom.

Still groping and kissing.

Phoenix slammed the door and spun her around. In one quick movement, he pulled the nightie down her body, leaving her bare.

Maya leaned over the dresser, resting on her elbows. She heard his pants drop to the floor – and then she felt him. Sliding his rigid manhood at the edge of her entrance, testing the waters, making sure she was prepared for his passionate invasion.

She was always ready for him.

"Don't tease," she whimpered.

Between the passion of the argument and the fiery kisses, she was seriously turned on. Needy. He pushed in slowly but to the hilt. And she groaned in rapture.

Her lover was big – not that she had anything to compare him to, but it wasn't the size that made the man. It was the rhythm – the pace – knowing how to hit all those delicious spots with just the right amount of pressure.

Maya wished she could do a public service announcement to all the men of the world on her lover's behalf.

_Hey fellas, the next time you see an infomercial for Cock-Grow or Miracle-Dick? Save your money. Buy the Kama Sutra instead!_

Phoenix grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, and moved quicker. Hard and fast. She gripped the edge of the chest of drawers, holding on for balance.

He kissed her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "You like that, baby?"

She moaned. "Yes . . . yes . . . so much."

He thrust into her with more force, shaking the dresser.

And just like that, she was coming …seeing stars…floating. Weightless. And it was sublime.

He slowed the movement of his hips as she came back down, drawing it out – making it last. He pulled her back against his granite chest and his fingers skated up across her stomach and up to her breasts, cupping and kneading them with both hands, his fingers teasing and lightly pinching her stiffened peaks, making her gasp and arch her back against him. Maya raised her arms around his neck, turning her head, hungrily bringing his mouth to hers.

She loved his mouth, his lips, his tongue. Kissing was an art form, and Phoenix Wright was Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello all rolled into one.

He pulled out of her and she turned around to face him, backing him up to the bed. He sat on the edge and she climbed on, wrapping her legs around his waist. This was how she liked it best – chest to chest, mouth to mouth, not an inch of space between them. She took him in her hand and slid down onto him, gasping as he filled her. Her insides stretched with the fullness and Phoenix moaned.

_God, yes._

She rose slowly and slammed down hard. Testing the strength of the bed springs. She gazed down into his handsome face, sculpted and strong, as he guided into her so swiftly and smoothly, it was as if he'd always been there.

She moved faster. Deeper. Their bodies were slick with sweat now.

And then Phoenix was holding her face in his hands, his thumbs moving back and forth across her skin. Suddenly tender. Worshipful.

Their foreheads pressed together and in the dim light, she could see his eyes looking down, watching where he slid in and out of her.

She looked down too.

It was erotic. Sensual.

She pushed his hair back from his forehead.

Her voice was imploring.

"Tell me you love me."

He couldn't say it often enough. He preferred to show her. But she'd never get tired of hearing it. Because every time he said those words, she was filled with the same wonderment as the first time.

"I love you, Maya."

His hands still held her face. Both of them panting—moving faster—getting closer. It felt almost spiritual. A holy communion.

"I'm never gonna give you up, my love." Phoenix's voice was hushed. Breathless. Beseeching. "Tell me you'll never leave me."

His eyes were soft now, liquid sapphire. Begging for reassurance.

Despite being together all these years, Maya knew there was a part of Phoenix that was still haunted by the fear that she would get fed up and walk away from him due to his circumstances…and because of their less than ideal situation. She often thought that was why he worked so hard to prove how much he always wanted her.

To show her that she'd chosen wisely.

She smiled softly and looked right into his eyes.

"Never. I'll never leave you, Nick."

The words felt like vows.

His hands gripped her hips, raising her up, helping her move.

" _Jesus_ , Maya . . ." His eyes closed.

She ground against him, pressing her swollen nub into his flat, muscular belly. She could see her desire mirrored in his expression, could feel his pulse in the flesh embedded inside her. And suddenly, like a flash of heat lightning that's gone almost as soon as it's seen, she felt his thoughts.

_Come with me, my love. Come with me._

Their mouths opened, giving and taking each other's breaths.

She whimpered into his mouth, tasting him. Wetness, so much wetness. His gasps turned to moans in her open mouth. He expanded inside her, throbbing. She stared into his face, his breath coming in short, rasping pants that matched her own. She wanted to ask how, why, but then her physical need took over, straining toward the orgasm that trembled just beyond her reach. She shifted her weight, grinding against him, and that was all it took. She screamed her release even as he pulled her head down to him and kissed her. She swallowed his breath and clamped down hard around him. Her climax seemed never-ending, spiraling higher and higher as he tensed beneath her.

They came together.

In perfect unison.

Perfect splendor.

Afterward, Phoenix's arms tightened around her. She touched his face and kissed him gently. He fell backward on the bed, taking her with him, keeping her on top. They lay like that for a while until their heart rates come back down and their breathing slowed.

Trembling and still moaning with satisfaction, she melted against him, her legs still wrapped around his hips. Boneless and nerveless, she let her head roll to the side, and slowly, languidly, opened her eyes. She lay still, heart pounding, legs still locked in place.

Phoenix, meanwhile, had reached his own quietus as he lay back on the mattress, eyes blissfully closed, his lashes nearly sweeping down to his tanned cheeks.

Head hanging so that her long hair brushed his face like gossamer silk in the dark, she murmured, "God, that was incredible" and lowered herself, slowly and gently, against his damp chest.

Whereupon he breathed, "Love you ... God, I love you... Thank you," in her ear and lapsed into warm half-consciousness beneath her, breathing heavily.

"Oh the pleasure was mine," she replied smugly, looking down at his peaceful, cherubic sleeping face with a knowing smirk. "Don't mention it."


	62. Dangerous Liasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "One day you'll notice something different and if you take advantage of that moment, you will be what you exactly needed to be."

_**Phoenix Wright**_ _  
_ _Los Angeles, California_  
December 24, 2024

It was that time of the year again.

Palpable excitement buzzed through the charged air. Everywhere he turned were swarms of people some looking frazzled, some wearing infectious grins. Strangers shaking hands, patting one another on the back, spontaneous outpouring of emotions as they filled the streets which were bustling with last-minute Christmas shoppers.

The festively designed shops, illuminated with blinking Christmas lights, vibrant ornaments, and brightly colored signs, were lined up along either side of the street and had varieties of delectable treats, jasmine-scented fragrances, skillfully hand-crafted greeting cards and unlimited choices of gifts to customers occupied for endless periods.

The warm smiles of the people behind the stalls as they tossed freshly roasted, golden brown chestnuts into paper cones or carefully poured creamy hot chocolate into mugs and added generous layers of whipped cream, was returned by the beaming grins of the children who were eagerly waiting to get their mug. The energetic youngsters giggling at their creamy chocolate mustaches were followed soon after. The loud, spirited laughter of adults could be heard over the continuous chatter surrounding the vivacious atmosphere.

Many would have been allured by the scent of freshly baked Christmas cake coming from a neighboring bakery amidst the busy streets of the local Christmas Market while strolling alongside the magnificently structured shops all spruced up in décor for the festive season. In turn, the elegantly decorated, store windows slowly revealed their hidden wonders attracting long queues of hustling customers.

Phoenix Wright wasn't one of them. He had his reasons for not being in the most festive of moods that evening, even if he was going to be spending Christmas Eve in good company. Other matters on his mind dampened the joy of the holiday season for him, with no reprieve in sight, although he would ensure he put on his best happy face for those around him who wanted nothing more than to have him eat, drink and be merry.

It was because of this dark cloud hanging over his head that he was barely half-conscious of all the Yuletide happenings around him as he neared his destination for the evening, absently side-stepping away from the masses of folks going in and out of the packed coffee shops and bakeries like bees as he continued along his journey. As the evening sky slowly began to fade away, the pink and orange hues were just beginning to be replaced with dark shades of blue, whilst the amber light of the street lamps spilled on the stone-paved streets.

He was too lost in thoughts to even notice. His mind was too preoccupied with the events in his life that had been unfolding the past few months; and how everything had been brought to a head just a few days ago with just one brief, unanticipated phone call…

When the pianist had committed to his 'investigation', he'd optimistically assumed it would take a few years to resolve at most, and soon after, things would return to a semblance of normality, and then he'd become a lawyer again.

Life truly was a strange and unpredictable thing.

Nearly six years later, that was still the unreachable, impossible dream.

With no sign of it manifesting to a feasible reality within sight.

No evidence and no legal system opening.

It appeared that as much as he hoped and prayed for it to be to the contrary, fate seemed to have other plans for him. Things could never be as they were. He was entrapped on this treadmill. Phoenix had begun to resign himself to the fact that he'd reached a stalemate, possibly eternal stalemate. There appeared to be no way to convict Kristoph, no way to clear his name.

_This is madness!_ He silently screamed to himself. _Why are things so broken? I begin to feel I'll do practically anything to get the 'closure', escape that entrapment to my obsessions. Well, short of murder and similar atrocities, of course._

He'd dwindled around the poker circuit initially on the ingrained expectation that Trucy's father would somehow resurface there.

But as the years passed, this likelihood diminished more and more, and became increasingly improbable; Zak had sworn he would return one day to see her, but Phoenix's suspicions merely inflated as time passed that he'd merely been lying.

Truly, it was the worthless accomplishment of his unbroken winning poker streak which kept him there. And of course, he'd bent the rules marginally on that one. Trucy knew exactly what she was doing, somehow he wouldn't categorize it as exploitation, nor all the magic shows – she stubbornly insisted to do them, got upset if he tried to make her stop. Trucy had never known anything but his current act. She probably assumed he'd always been this way, cheating and forging his way through life, living a lie instead of trying to break through them.

He didn't try to change her mind. He couldn't even try to even if he wanted to. What evidence did he have to the contrary?

His daughter thought his borderline criminal behavior was _cool_. While disturbing, he took some solace that at least she didn't think he was scum, like a lot of other people, would have had they known of his dealings.

As far as lies and half-truths went, at the very least, the card shark had been true to his word to Maya. He _did_ have a game plan in motion to try to get to the bottom of things. He couldn't, _wouldn't_ possibly have ever lied about something like that!

Edgeworth in all his curt, no-hold-barred _, so honest that it hurt_ glory had given the DILF the motivation he needed. And he knew, as his suppressed instincts had been telling him all along, it all started, and was connected to Kristoph Gavin.

It was one thing to have learned over the years how to swim with sharks. It was quite another thing to throw yourself into their hungry hunter's waters with a bleeding wound and wait for them to take the tantalizing bait.

A horrible euphemism, but there was no other way to describe the act of actually being the pursuer, rather than the pursed, for the first time in five in a half years, and be the one making contact with the predatory German.

All under the harmless, innocuous guise of wanting to rekindle the friendship that they'd allegedly forged years ago, which had waned somewhat when he'd convinced Kristoph that Maya was no longer in his life, and had hence seen slim to none of the man's whereabouts much, save for the odd call or email.

At the time it had been a welcome reprieve, but in hindsight, Phoenix knew it had been foolish to let the defense attorney stray too far from his radar. For heaven's sake, he'd heard from _Edgeworth_ more often, and he was allegedly undercover!

The adage was true for a reason after all. Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.

And Kristoph Gavin was indeed his enemy.

His best friend's confirmation phone call two days before Christmas had been the final proof the poker champ had needed of that.

He'd known Edgeworth nearly his whole life, and he trusted and valued that nearly flawless logic of his wholeheartedly. He never should have doubted the cynical barrister's intuitions for a moment. Phoenix was still kicking himself for this grave error one even more than he was for ignoring his own gut instincts.

He ruefully acknowledged Maya truly had just cause for being upset about the still uncertain present, never mind future, she had with him.

Since that day of Edgeworth's pressing phone call back in the fall, Kristoph Gavin had become the spiky-haired man's primary obsession.

Instead of the imagined future with Maya as legal and otherwise partners, since mid- October, on top of trying to formulate an action plan, the faux musician had been forced into whoring himself out to the duplicitous defense attorney for mind rape coupled with a side of morale/character disintegration.

Up until that fateful call, the ex-lawyer had only mildly suspected the blond man was somehow involved with or knew about the real forgery. But now he was caught in the spider's web; the bated trap of the German's alleged friendship and association. If Kristoph ever realized Phoenix knew or suspected the truth about him, no doubt the consequences would be deadly. As serpentine as he knew it was, he couldn't force himself to turn away either. It was the lone real lead he had on the whole forging incident. He felt like he was an entranced moth circling a flame, hypnotically caught in its orbit, but with enough remaining sense not to impale himself in it.

As if an association with the icy, calculating periwinkle suit wearer wasn't an unpleasant enough experience, investigating him was even worse. There wasn't a moment when Phoenix was within his presence what he wasn't nearly sickened with an overwhelming sense of combined dread and warped with uninhibited fury, even before getting the 'affirmation' call from Edgeworth, who had cautioned him to try to keep it together and not blow the whole operation with one of his former trademarked _"Phoenix Wright Freak-Outs!"_

That embarrassing reminder had forced him to acknowledge that his mannerisms in the past had tended to lean towards the over-dramatic at times, especially when compared to the ever calm and collected Miles Edgeworth. While his childhood chum had often mocked him about it many times – in and out of court – especially his tendency to sweatdrop when nervous, Phoenix had always just dismissed the ribbings as his courtroom rival being a pompous ass, which, initially, the prosecutor bloody well _had_ been!

Up until life had turned him into a poker-faced card shark, the anterior King of the Turnabout had never realized just _how_ animated he'd been as a lawyer in comparison to the way he was now. As he'd always worn his heart and his belief in his clients like a badge of honor on his sleeve, similarly, his expressions had tended to show on his mien as clearly as a weather vane. Moreover, his hands – famous pointer finger notwithstanding – tended to make wild gesticulations and flap dramatically about whenever he was incensed or passionate about something.

_Holy Shit Biscuits! I was so melodramatic with these flailing digits of mine! And I'm not even Italian!_

Of course, such obvious mannerisms would never do in his current circumstances. He could never let Kristoph see him sweat. His new preventative measure from such overt, tell-tale gestures was to keep his hands jammed tightly in his pockets, the smooth, familiar ever-present magatama forcing him to maintain an outwardly cool veneer, and disguise the fact that the other man's mere presence tended to make his palms sweaty.

No doubt that despite his alleged ineptness at poker, even Kristoph could read faces.

Also, the calculating attorney would be able to tell if the hobo's nerves overcame him and he pissed himself! His nights, even ones spent with Maya, were plagued by insomnia, due to his mounting paranoia. Clutching his magatama as his sole give-me-strength support, he tried to talk himself into maintaining the same level of the infamous cool his adversary so prided himself on.

_Easy there. Calm down, Phoenix. Relax. Deep breaths. Don't forget to breathe!_

However, in the act of shutting off the mental switch of dread and suspicion, he was plagued even further with the barely suppressed mounting flames of expressed injustice.

The anterior Ace Attorney repeatedly cursed himself for his incapacity to mask his emotions and fears in a better manner. He was positive that the result would be his worst nightmare come true – a mistake even more foolishly fatal than presenting 'forged diary pages'. The inability to do so inflated his paranoias further in a vicious cycle. Who knew who the victim – or casualty – would be this time - him, Trucy, _Maya_..?

It was becoming more and more evident to Phoenix that Kristoph Gavin was a sick and dangerous individual. The worst part was his ever-ready, ever-present, infallibly charming, yet as genuine as a three-dollar-bill disposition

While the disbarred legist wasn't stupid enough to blow his cover by trying to break the psyche locks he could see at every turn, he still berated himself daily for squelching all his doubts over the years, despite the mystical gemstone's capability to let him see through the defense attorney's outer persona of lies.

Edgeworth's validation of his longtime ignored suspicions had given Phoenix rekindled hope. The hope that he could still clear his name. For the sake of his sanity, he wanted, no, _needed_ , the truth. It had helped him before, and he prayed it would again.

Aside from his girlfriend, his quest for the truth, and the daily responsibilities of fatherhood, were his single motivations in life which give him direction and forced him out of bed each morning.

Leading him and his innocent, unsuspecting daughter into the regular dealings with a tumultuous, unpredictable madman whose next move was impossible to anticipate and who held both their lives in his bony hands.

He was playing with fire and risking his own vitality because what Maya has shrieked at him was true: he wasn't Elsa from _Frozen_. He simply _couldn't_ let it go and move on. He couldn't – _wouldn't!_ – leave well enough alone.

What the beanie-wearer _should_ have done, as best for him and Trucy, was abandon his selfish, perilous investigations years ago while there was still time to reinvent himself.

_Have a brand-new do-over as_ _ **what**_ _exactly, Phoenix_? His masochistic, torturous mind taunted him. _What do you want to be when you grow up? Are you gonna hope to find another bar where the locals are too drunk to notice you can barely, passably, play the piano? Will you perhaps venture into becoming some cheesy, cabaret singer instead, in attempts to distract patrons once they realize you've been bluffing your way through tickling the ivories, much like you've been with everything else?_

It was unimaginable what he could have aspired to, had he not chosen law as his destined path. Being a defense attorney, with its associated empowerment to save others, (mostly inspired by having friends like Edgeworth) was the one genuine motivator he'd ever had, career-wise. The vague fantasy from another lifetime, of becoming some sort of artist, when he'd signed up to art school, had just been a juvenile delusion to avoid serious career enslavement.

Perhaps he ought to have thrown in the towel at this point, but as much as it appeared his lawyer self from another lifetime ago was long dead and gone, that infallible tenacity still prevailed. As much as the sane, rational part of him urged him to give up, he just _couldn't_. Because it was now impossible.

He was too thoroughly intermingled in the shadowy stems of the Gavins and the Gramaryes. If he put a foot wrong, the other man would probably kill him, and if he could not untangle the darkness of the magician Troupe, it would likely seize and exhume Trucy.

His life was a complete conundrum in every hellacious way possible. He was damned no matter what he did.

What he _should_ have done, Phoenix conceded in hindsight, was moved to another city years ago where his fraudulent reputation had not so extended, and gotten a 3:00 AM night shift at the 7/11 convenience store. It would have eliminated the jeopardy his investigation exposed his daughter and himself to while communicating the illusion to Trucy and Maya that he had _'moved on'_ from that devastating incident, and perhaps avoided the fraud he'd trapped himself in, like a moth impaled to a flame.

While Trucy was the light of his life, and parenthood was the one task of any meaning the hobo had accomplished since then, he didn't delude himself that he'd performed this via the most altruistic means possible. His parenting had been partially ruined by hijacking her special skills and presence into his selfish little quest for justice.

_I'm a sick, sick man._ He reflected bitterly, with no short amount of self-loathing. _Trucy makes money for us and helps me while I waste and endanger both our lives because I can't find closure on that dreadful day of doom._

He admitted to himself that no, it wasn't _really_ about waiting for the return of Zak for his kid's sake – that son of a bitch didn't deserve to get his hands on and exploit someone like Trucy, and her safety would be enhanced by never having to deal with him again.

_But how am I any better? Look at the jeopardy_ _**I'm** _ _putting her life into! Every meeting with that creepy German sausage is just hazarding with both our lives. She's the one who Kristoph told to give me the 'evidence', of course. She's under his radar too now, I'm sure of it. And here's me, leading us both along this treacherous path, like a sheep with his little lamb, to slaughter._

The self-hate gnawed at his insides daily, threatening to overcome the hapless feelings of hopelessness that accompanied it.

On a daily basis, the poker champ was forced to acknowledge the true gamble he was making in this portentous game. Every day, he knew he was imperiling Trucy's safety and well-being.

But he refused to endanger Maya.

_I'm officially going to go to hell for this._

It wasn't because his daughter was less valued to him than his girlfriend. Phoenix couldn't have loved the girl any more than if she was biologically his; they were as close as law and love could possibly make them.

It was honestly because he didn't _honestly_ believe his daughter was in the direct line of fire should the predator decide to strike.

Thus far, and in the past, all veiled threats had been made against solely the ex-lawyer himself, and Maya alone had been on the blond man's radar previously; save for that one time he'd mentioned seeing his daughter working at The Wonder Bar, Kristoph had since seemed content to torture his so-called friend by making the odd remarks about his lover, which he'd seized doing once convinced she was no longer in the picture. Phoenix aimed to keep it that way.

The former attorney was entirely fueled by his obsession, and more superficially, by his poker and grape juice addiction. He lambasted himself regularly for being such a sick and a terrible parent. He should have felt the same regard for his daughter, yet he was painfully aware of the fact that he exploited her as much as protected her, with her full willingness and compliance. He truly was a horrible father.

Worst of all, Trucy showed no signs of neither knowing nor caring. It was all just a game to her, part of the Phoenix Wright Magic Show. Luckily for him, Zak had set the standards on fatherhood pretty low, so his daughter thought it was all in good fun, and was used to using her talents for helping " _Daddy, the good guy, win"._

From the day he'd met her, and even more now since he'd fallen in love with her, Phoenix's first and foremost responsibility to Maya was to instinctively protect her, not ruin her life with his stupid personal agenda. He'd sworn to his late mentor he'd protect and take care of her. It was a vow, no matter how low the levels he'd sunken to, that he aimed to keep. The love of his life been through enough strife and hardships of her own; no selfish needs or desires of his were ever worth the chance of her getting hurt.

He thanked his lucky stars every day for the safe-haven his best friend had provided so he could still see the woman whom he loved more than his own life. While it may not have been as often as either of them would have liked – between her Master schedule and his difficulties getting time away from his awful shady piano/poker gig, there was no way they could venture these types of rendezvous at his insecure apartment. His residence was all too liable to easy surveillance by Kristoph and other nosy parties. That was the true reason why, to this day, he couldn't let his daughter know about Maya. Trucy had too many secrets to keep already.

So Phoenix pressed on, powered by his obsessive belief that once he knew the truth, he'd find peace, closure, even if it meant playing against him and Trucy's life and morals every day to get it.

But he could not, would not, ante _hers_. Never. Even if it meant keeping her in the dark. Ignorance was bliss in some cases. This was one of them.

Keeping secrets from Maya gutted him. But she'd merely panic if she knew what he was doing. Worry. Make demanding queries he couldn't answer. Ask why he was doing this? What was he hoping to achieve? Was it worth the gamble?

And he knew there was no answer he could give her that would be satisfactory.

What _was_ he fighting for now? Phoenix wasn't even sure anymore. He could try to tell himself it was to keep Trucy alive, but it wasn't. Not really. He willingly hazarded Trucy's and his own life and safety by continuing to meet with Kristoph, but he could _never_ let Maya risk herself that way.

_No matter what._

He knew she would never understand that. He could hear how the conversation would go in his mind right now, could hear the incredulous hysteria in her voice as clearly as if she'd been right before him then.

_"You lost your job, the whole world turned on you, and you're still worried about me?"_

_"I can't let anything happen to you, Maya, even if it means losing you."_

All those crazy ideas he'd once believed in – the good in humanity, justice, the justice system itself could still work for good – they seem almost preposterous now. Trite. Nonsensical.

He _had_ to forget them, his once steadfast morals, his ethics, his entire belief system. He went against them daily to survive.

But there was only one other thing that he'd believed in back then, and still did. It was the only one that still made sense.

He'd believed in _her_. In Maya Fey.

She was the _solitary_ evidence there was still somebody decent once upon a time; someone who hadn't forged the evidence, who was fighting for something larger than just a selfish obsession over a personal injustice, alternately drugging and numbing himself in order to exist.

_She's the last remaining tie that binds me to the man I used to be,_ he despaired now as he put his hand on the familiar doorknob and swallowed the lump in his throat. _If that day should ever come, if I lose her, then Phoenix Wright will truly be gone_.


	63. All I Want for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passionate Night
> 
> Silent night  
> Passionate night  
> All is hot  
> All is right
> 
> Our kisses start  
> gentle and mild  
> heating quickly  
> tender and wild
> 
> Deep in heavenly bliss  
> Deep in heavenly bliss
> 
> Silent night  
> Passionate night  
> All is hot  
> all is right
> 
> Feeling glorious  
> in your arms  
> desire runs deep  
> can't resist your charms
> 
> Deep in heavenly bliss  
> Deep in heavenly bliss
> 
> Silent night  
> Passionate night  
> All is hot  
> All is right
> 
> Our passion burns  
> the sparks do fly  
> I feel so good  
> I could cry
> 
> Deep in heavenly bliss  
> Deep in heavenly bliss

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Edgeworth's Love Shack, Empire Bellagio Penthouse_  
December 24, 2024, 5:00 PM

Edgeworth's place appeared to be empty when Phoenix entered. He was surprised, as he'd expected his girlfriend to have beaten him there – he'd been running a little behind schedule as he'd waited for Trucy's friend to come to pick her up before he could head out – to the place, but had thought Maya would have been there by now. Odd.

In the meantime, the sole bit of happy news he had been given was Edgeworth confirming that as Kristoph was away in Germany for the holidays, it meant that he could spend Christmas Eve with the love of his life, knowing he was free from the potential observations of his stalker/pseudo friend.

He took off his shoes, his overnight bag still in his hand as he shut the door behind him, and wandered into the now-familiar luxurious condo.

As his feet silently padded into the home on the plush carpeting, he cast a glance at the dining area, where they for once they would not be eating that night's dinner. The hobo noticed that there was an exquisite crystal vase with a beautiful bunch of fresh poinsettias and berries in it, set as a festive centerpiece on the huge mahogany table, which took up most of the vast space the dark, romantic room offered, was left without a tablecloth, as though daring guests to ruin the perfectly varnished shine with their unworthy fingerprints. Two tall, silver candelabras commanded attention from the center of the table, holding smooth white candles whose wax never dripped. Much like the rest of the home, the dinner table always looked fit for royalty to dine – Edgeworth's manservant ensured of such, even in his master's absence.

Hendricks was gone, knowing that he and Maya would be going out that evening and so his services would not be required. Nevertheless, the butler thoughtfully had decorated the residence with touches of Christmas, with tasteful boughs of holly, along with wreaths and other elegant but discreet holiday adornments expertly placed about the condo.

The decorations had not been present that last time Phoenix and Maya had been there a fortnight ago. As dismissive and un-merry as he'd been feeling that holiday season, Phoenix knew there was no way he would have missed that fully decorated red and gold Christmas tree by the fireplace in the living room. His appreciative eyes took in the sight of the enormous, flickering tree, adorned with glittery ornaments, its tiers glowing fairy lights draped around it. Next to the fireplace were two stockings, looking like they were already stuffed with goodies, with the names _Phoenix_ and _Maya_ on them.

Good old Hendricks. And even better, good old Edgeworth. Phoenix smiled for the first time in ages.

_Guys, sometimes you're just too much!_

He dropped his bag onto the floor of the bedroom, wondering if he should call Maya to see when she'd be arriving when suddenly he heard the unfamiliar but distinct sound of something. It appeared to be the radio…coming from the master bathroom, from which a thin crack of light streamed into the bedroom, through the slightly ajar door.

It looked like he wasn't alone after all...

He sidled towards the sound and quietly pushed the door further open, and heard the sound he'd mistaken for the radio, in _full-stereo_!

* * *

_**I won't ask for much this Christmas  
** _ _**I won't even wish for snow, and I  
** _ _**I just wanna keep on waiting  
** _ _**Underneath the mistletoe  
** _ _**I won't make a list and send it  
** _ _**To the North Pole for Saint Nick  
** _ _**I won't even stay awake  
** _ _**To hear those magic reindeer click** _

* * *

The DILF immediately recognized Mariah Carey's holiday classic, "All I Want for Christmas is You". But the sounds being emitted and echoing throughout the large bathroom weren't coming from any sort of radio airwaves or the famous songbird.

The voice was unexpected. It was low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of more power than the tiny body it was coming from would suggest. The _source_ of the voice was even more staggering.

It was _Maya_.

In all the years that Phoenix had known her, he'd never heard her sing before, and while she was belting at the top of her lungs, during her private moment and not for an audience, he found himself rather enjoying the performance, as over-the-top as it was, as she attempted the similar caterwauling manner of the falsetto singer.

* * *

_**'Cause I just want you here tonight  
** _ _**Holding on to me so tight  
** _ _**What more can I do  
** _ _**Oh, Baby all I want for Christmas is you…** _

* * *

The card shark couldn't help it. All his rancor dissolved at the sight of his lover soaking her beautiful bottom in that sunken Roman tub, and he found himself spontaneously breaking into applause, finding himself slightly disappointed that his impromptu presence had abruptly ended the performance.

" _Nick_!" Maya started, but only for a moment, then her face broke into a huge ear to ear grin at the sight of her swain. "You bum! You startled me!" She self-consciously tucked an errant strand of obsidian hair behind one ear and blushed. "I, um, didn't hear you come in."

He returned her embarrassed look with one of merriment.

"You were too busy channeling your inner diva, my love," he teased, his eyes dancing as he drank in the sight of her, thinking that it ought to be against the law for a woman to be so gorgeous.

She had her hair pinned up for her bath, exposing her swanlike neck. Without her hair framing her face, her classic beauty was wholly realized. Although the Master was now in her late 20's, with her face fully exposed and without any makeup, he could see the girl she'd once been. She was one of those women for whom it seemed that time ran at half speed, allowing her to age slower than most people. Maya's natural beauty wouldn't fade for a long time, if ever.

As she basked in the foamy bubbles, Phoenix imagined that this was what Cleopatra or Nefertiti must have looked like ages ago as they bathed, except that those queens were attended to by handmaidens.

He pictured his goddess rising from her bath, assisted by her faithful female servants. He imagined them gently drying off her smooth skin, and then scenting her body by rubbing fragrant oils into her flesh…

Then he found his mind drifting to the even more delightful notion of his _own_ hands performing that service instead.

In his naughty imagination, he saw his swain growing excited by his touch. It was making her hot, making her juices flow as he'd start off planting a gentle kiss at the base of her neck, making her shiver and moan. And then their lips would come together…

The pianist realized that his other half was eyeing him from the tub and smiling knowingly, as if reading his lusty thoughts.

The diviner eyed her boyfriend speculatively and bit her lip. The overhead lights gilded his dark, beanie-free hair, picked out glints in his brunet scruff, and highlighted his pulse at the base of his throat. He looked at her, his blue orbs dark and intense under his eyebrows, making him look just as tempting as a gingerbread man that she yearned sink her teeth into. The hungry look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"What?" he asked pointlessly. No doubt his sheepish expression gave him away.

"Do you want to come in there?" she asked sultrily. Her eyes slid from his face down his body.

He looked down and saw evidence of his "excitement" pointing at her.

Maya rose from the tub, her lithe body glistening with soapy water as she stood, beckoning him over with the crook of her finger. He obliged and was already reaching for her as she leaned forwards, her warm breath in his ear, then she hummed the sultry Christmas song "Santa Baby" in his ear.

His lips, the ones that hadn't wanted to smile tonight, crept into a grin. She kept on humming until, disregarding the fact that he was still fully clothed, he crushed her wet, naked form into a gigantic bear hug and kissed her.

The sharp edge of his scruff scratched deliciously at her lips as she brushed them back and forth across his mouth, tempting him to open them. When he did, she touched the tip of her tongue to his, tasting the grape juice he preferred. When she withdrew, his tongue traced the edges of her teeth, then her lower lip. She licked the spot, then bit it, watching his eyes drop to her mouth as she did. She closed the last couple of inches between them and exhaled softly when her body pressed against his from her knees to her breasts. Everything soft about her – breasts, stomach, thighs – pressed against everything hard about him. Chest. Abdomen. His thickening hardness, now pressing against her lower belly.

His hand cupped her jaw, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones, then he bent his head and kissed her again, using lips and teeth and tongue to capture her mouth. Phoenix had learned patience handling over the years when it came to seducing women over the years – but he was _especially_ well versed with _this_ particular one.

He didn't rush. He drew it out, nipping at her lips, tilting his head to kiss the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, before returning to her mouth and using his lips to open it farther, his tongue advancing in slow stages, until she stepped closer, giving most of her weight to his body, weaving her thigh between his. She put her hands on his hips and tucked her index and middle fingers through his belt loops, pulling him closer, letting herself get absorbed in the texture of his stubble against her lips and tongue.

She bent her head to rest on his shoulder, felt the heat of his skin through the fine cotton of his shirt, smelled the scent of him, so elemental. Soap, skin, and the heat he absorbed all day. He was intoxicating. Delicious. And he was all hers.

He turned, seeking out her ear, nipping at the lobe as he felt his heart beating wildly against hers.

_I swear this woman is an expert on keeping my heart beating. Without her, I'm sure it would simply stop._

"So…" He growled against her year. "What do you say we just say _screw it_ to our _dinner_ plans this evening and just skip right to _dessert_?"

"No way, Nick!" She gave his neck one last teasing lick and drew back then, her dark eyes twinkling mischievously. "Christmas is a time for feasting, and I have purposefully been curtailing my six stomachs in preparation for tonight's holiday banquet!"

"Such a minx!" He mocked, putting on his best hangdog look of disappointment. "Didn't you just ask me to come in and join you?"

"That was _before_ I saw the time," she admitted, casting a quick glance at the clock on the wall. "We're due for dinner in half an hour and you still need to at least shave before we dine, scruffy! I'll be out of here soon enough."

"You're a very naughty vixen, Miss Fey." He wriggled his finger at her in mock disapproval. "I'm going to tell Santa just how much of a bad girl you've been, getting your man all worked up like that, first singing tantalizingly that all you want for Christmas is _him_ and _then_ humming saucy songs about hurrying down your chimney tonight…getting him _all worked up_ … and _then_ making the poor man need a _cold_ shower before dinner, even though he _already had_ one at home!"

"You will have a very _Merry Sexmas_ later, Mr. Saint Nick," she giggled, sinking back down into the tub, much to his chagrin, and hiding under the bubbles again. "I _promise_!"

"I know it's not Christmas _yet_ , but Saint Nick's lap here is always ready…" He suggestively wiggled his eyebrows.

"Out!" Maya laughingly threw her wet loofah at him, missing by several inches.

Phoenix chuckled and stepped out of the bathroom to give her some privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mariah Carey – All I Want For Christmas  
> www.beautiful-love-quotes.com/christmas-poems.html


	64. Paragons, Picture Books And Dental Floss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful and don't forget to make some art – write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself."

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey/Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Gumshoe**_  
 _Empire Bellagio, Los Angeles_  
 _Gumshoe's Condo Suit 707_  
December 24, 2024, 5:30 PM

Both Phoenix and Maya had been to the Gumshoe's residence on numerous occasions over the years, although rarely together, as amongst the other couple's visitors whenever the Master was in town was Trucy, who was still blissfully unaware of her existence, along with Pearl.

However, neither of the Gumshoe guests were prepared for the holiday grandeur that had would be their environment that night, and Phoenix couldn't help but let out a whistle of appreciation when they arrived that evening, a bottle of Edgeworth's finest, rarest port wine in hand for them all to enjoy. (Hendricks had just 'happened' to leave the wine cellar door open that evening and so Phoenix had helped himself to a bottle of vintage as a last-minute host gift – his best friend had so many _hundreds_ in his vast collection, surely it wouldn't be missed!)

While slightly smaller than Edgeworth's penthouse, the Gumshoe's condo was still quite the grand space, to say the least. Compared to the museum perfection of the prosecutor's home, their décor and furnishings were infinitely homier and inviting, with plush carpets and suede sofas in neutral earth colors in the living room with tons of friends and family photos and Gordy's colorful drawings decorating the walls in place of priceless artwork.

On normal days, the dining room was elegant, in a minimalist sort of way. The maple chairs had plush velvet backs and cushions, each one beautiful in its simplicity, all clean straight lines and high backs. The floor beneath it all was slate and with the cream walls and tall mullioned windows, it was a fine place for the evening meal.

In preparation for the holidays, and their guests that night, however, the Gumshoe dining-room could only be described as absolutely _exquisite_.

The table had been laid in advance: tinsel was strewn atop the starched white damask tablecloths, freshly ironed for the event. Cut crystal and fine porcelain dishes held chocolates and nuts. The walls were covered with a shimmering gold paper and in the middle of the ceiling above the carved oak table was a candelabra. Down the center of the table, a runner with holly design woven in gold and green into the fabric itself. At the end of the table were floor to ceiling French doors, left slightly ajar to let in the scented smell of the cranberry candles lit up in the living room. The polished silver cutlery was heavy to the hand and shone brightly in the early evening light. At each place stood a tall empty wine glass and there were beautifully folded napkins to match the runner. All that was missing was the food and the guests.

"Merry Christmas!" Maggey squealed, throwing her arms around the psychic in a warm embrace before doing the same to the hobo. Gumshoe came out with a squealing, exuberant five-year-old Gordy, a pint-sized version of his father, who was bouncing around like a little rubber ball at the sight of Uncle Phoenix and Aunty Maya, and they all exchanged hugs.

The spiky-haired man smiled broadly at the sight of the host's Santa hat and his wife's reindeer horn headband. Both wore ugly Christmas sweaters – his with a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer emblem, coupled with a flashing red nose, and hers with the green Grinch, wearing his infamous faux Santa costume. It was heartwarming and hilarious at the same time.

He was pleased that being rich hadn't changed his old friends in the least; he would have bet his bottom dollar that Maggey had decorated the place herself, even though she and her husband had more than enough funds to have hired someone. He was positive she'd also made tonight's feast with her own two hands. Although not a big eater, his mouth was watering from the heavenly aromas wafting from the kitchen and teasing his nostrils.

_New beginnings are in order, and you are bound to feel some level of excitement as the new year unfolds._

"Gordy's been bouncing off the walls waiting for you guys to come!" Maggey grinned as she ushered them into the living room and sitting next to the two on the sofa. "Dinner is ready – you just let me know whenever you want me to bring it out."

"My wife has outdone herself this year," Gumshoe boasted, taking a seat on his Lazy Boy recliner. "She's made enough food for an army! There will be more than enough leftovers for tomorrow night's dinner with you and your daughter, pal." He gestured to Phoenix. "Do you know what time Mr. Burger will be dropping Trucy and Pearl off here tomorrow morning?"

"Probably around 9:00," the poker champ replied. "Gouda's family is German and the Burgers, like a lot of European families, tend to celebrate everything on Christmas Eve, not the day of. Since I get them back so early tomorrow, I didn't mind letting my girls go off for the night to enjoy some additional holiday festivities."

"Remember that you only get Pearly for an hour or so in the morning," his girlfriend reminded him. "Because after that, she's coming upstairs to grab me from the penthouse, so we can go back and spend Christmas Day in Kurain."

"I'm sure a traditional cultural celebration of Christmas will be just wonderful!" Maggey beamed. "It must be so great, getting to eat _two_ dinners for the holidays this year!"

"Oh, sure," Maya grimaced. "I can't wait for this year's annual _tofu turkey_ on a platter! It's the _one_ day a year I can't get the chef to budge on the village's ridiculous vegetarian stance!"

Gumshoe chuckled and began chatting with the Master about the other antiquated Kurain customs, while Maggey took the moment to discreetly whisper into Phoenix's ear.

"Don't worry about Gordy blabbing to Trucy that Maya was here tonight," she assured him. "He just thinks it's all a big game of surprise and mystery anyway. Dick and I told him Santa counts loose-lips as an act of Bad Little Boys, whose punishment is getting _clothes_ for Christmas!"

"I'm sure he'll be too excited about seeing his cousins tomorrow to even give us a second thought," Phoenix smiled. "Although I feel bad your annual Santa threat has to still be put into place to ensure his silence."

Gordy had just run off to get something from his room at that moment, so Gumshoe turned to his friends then and regarded them with uncharacteristic seriousness, his broad face wreathed with curiosity and concern.

"We can only maybe get away with the Kris Kringle bluff for another year or so to bribe his silence, guys," he told them. "But that only works only as long as Gordy still believes! When do you think you'll be able to finally come clean to Trucy about the two of you? To be honest, I _still_ don't quite get why you guys haven't gone public about your relationship yet."

Maya gave the hosts a strained smile. The whole issue of their clandestine affair was still a touchy subject for her.

"I trust Nick has his reasons," she murmured, idly swishing around the glass of wine Gumshoe had just poured them all from the bottle they'd brought over. "We can only hope it will be soon."

Maggey glared at her husband for his obtuse tactlessness. The beanie wearer's pained expression and the spirit medium's downcast gaze were evidence enough to her that this was not a topic to be brought up, no matter how close they all were.

"Don't worry you worry about how long Gordy's a Santa believer for." She smiled reassuringly at her guests. "If he's anything like his father, we've got _at least_ another decade of naiveté in him yet! Heck, Dick here was _16_ before he found out the truth about Father Christmas!"

" _Maggey!"_ Gumshoe whined, flushing deeply with embarrassment. "You're not supposed to _tell_ people that!"

"And _you_ are not supposed to be a bad host and ask our guests overly personal questions that make them visibly uncomfortable!" She snapped back. "Sometimes I do wonder about you, Dick Gumshoe!"

"It's OK, Maggey." The phony musician cleared his throat awkwardly. "He's right, of course. It's time I came clean. To all of you, about what's happening with me."

Everyone gawked at him, stunned at how forthright the close-mouthed former attorney was being at that moment.

"You're not obligated to tell us anything you don't want to, Phoenix…" Maggey began, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"You're wrong, Maggey." He shook his head. "Guys, I feel like I finally do owe some sort of explanation about what's been going on, considering how you've all, one way or another, been dragged into this mess by having to lie or cover for me these last six years. The truth is, I think this goes a lot deeper than we thought."

Phoenix took a large swig of his wine, not looking at any of them while he spoke his next words.

"There is a lot more going on … and I'm worried about something else. I know it seems like such an easy, logical thing, just coming out in the open about our relationship lately, but …"

He closed his eyes as if gathering courage, and spoke the next words rapidly, as though trying to spit them out while he had the nerve.

"I have reasons to think that just wouldn't be a good idea right now. As a matter of fact…I don't think it can be known, _at all_ , that Maya and I are together until I get my name cleared."

Gumshoe and Maggey seemed beyond flummoxed at the words, while Maya remained frozen, her hand, which had been reaching for her goblet, was now halted in mid-air.

The psychic sat there miserably, trying to digest her lover's earthshattering declaration while desperately trying to hold it together and not commence shrieking uncontrollably as she had a few months prior. She couldn't believe Nick was dropping a bomb about something so major on _Christmas Eve!_ To make matters worse, he hadn't even had to courtesy to discuss this in private with her first – he'd blind-sighted his even girlfriend with the news – in _mixed company!_

_I bet him making such a colossal announcement semi-publicly was fully intentional!_ Maya fumed inwardly. Her lover clearly reckoned he knew her well enough to figure she'd be unlikely to make a scene in front of others. How _convenient_ Phoenix's selective memory appeared to have forgotten the events of her 21st birthday – when he'd gotten her so enraged that he'd ended up with a martini … _right in the kisser!_

Unfortunately, he blasted man knew her all too well. She _wasn't_ about to make a scene, for the very reasons he'd known she wouldn't. After all, they were with two people who were among their best of friends who'd kindly extended their hospitality to them, and it _was_ Xmas Eve. Moreover, while little Gordy remained off in his room, thus being spared this awkward conversation, the moppet would undoubtedly still hear it if Maya justifiably _lost her shit_ and made her boyfriend wear the remains of her glass, _yet again!_

Therefore, there was nothing else the village leader could do but suck in a deep breath, try to compose herself, and not wail like a banshee at this heart-wrenching statement which Gumshoe had essentially just coerced Phoenix into making. All this time, she'd kept the undying faith that her the man she loved would be able to prove his innocence someday. However, deciding that their _entire future_ rested upon it made her feel like she'd just been sucker-punched to the gut. It appeared no ray of hope loomed in sight. God only knew _when_ this legal mess would be cleaned up.

In the meantime, despite her boyfriend's placating words back in the fall, Maya was once again getting impatient. She just could no longer see the correlation between his disbarment and their relationship, any more than their friends did!

Phoenix caught the hurt expression on her visage and released a long breath. When he looked at her again, his expression was sad but earnest.

The two momentarily were so lost in gazing unwaveringly at one another that neither had heard Maggey discreetly murmur her excuses moments earlier about checking on dinner in the kitchen, then forcibly dragged her clueless, imperceptive husband by the ear behind her.

"My love, I know this wasn't what you wanted to hear. Believe me, this was just as brutal for me to say as I'm sure it was to hear! I know you probably think I'm being paranoid again but I think there are some underlying sinister workings afoot here."

She stifled a long-suffering sigh. Just as she'd suspected – his Kristoph/Klavier Gavin conspiracy theory was at play _again_ here, she just _knew_ it! Something had retriggered Phoenix's agitation – he'd been so carefree up until now. The question was, what had it been _this_ time around?

Ignoring his mini-speech, she crossed her arms and gave him a tight-lipped stare.

"How long are we talking, Nick? How much longer do I need to remain your sordid little secret?"

"I don't know, Maya." He turned away from her angry gaze. "What I'm looking for is a butt-kicking legal paragon of sorts, and they're hardly a dime a dozen! It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack! I don't want to say this will take years – months, maybe. _Weeks_ , if we're lucky…"

The Master shut her eyes against the threatening onslaught of tears. For the entire duration of their relationship, she'd naturally figured they would continue with their current clandestine affair indeterminately. However, hearing him so blithely state that they had _no choice_ was more painful than words could say.

"Edgeworth called me a few months ago," Phoenix told her bluntly, responding to her unspoken question from earlier. "Talking to him brought things to a head. It made me realize I can't just go out there blindly searching for answers, or expecting him to be able to keep investigating for me while he's in Europe or wherever the heck he is now; not without having a more conclusive plan first. First and foremost, I've realized that since my best friend is abroad, and not here in the States now, I need to look elsewhere for legal representation."

The necromancer was blown away by this news.

"You … Nick … _you_ want to find a lawyer?"

"I have to, Maya. I need someone who's not only a practicing attorney but on the same continent as me, to help plead my case and be my legal spokesperson. But the problem is, I can't take just _any_ jerk with an attorney badge. I need to hold out for someone who actually _cares_ about helping people and looks out for the underdog. Somebody who truly cares about _justice_."

Her lover just as easily could have been describing himself, but Maya knew Phoenix well enough to know exactly what the subtext of his search really meant. She smiled sadly, knowingly.

"You need another Mia. You're looking for a lawyer with the same ethics and morals as my sister, aren't you, Nick?"

"Lawyers like your legendary sibling don't exactly grow on trees, you know." The hobo nodded earnestly, relieved that she understood. "Mia was one in a million. Lord only knows when another lawyer like her will come around again. That's why I told you this next phase … although it's the final frontier, it won't be an overnight thing. This waiting game could take a while."

He regarded her anxiously.

"But I can't force you to play the waiting game with me, Maya. I know it's already been almost six years…"

She cut him off.

"Nick, save your breath. I know I've been getting impatient but don't even think about asking me if I'm willing to wait for you."

She slid off the couch and stood before him, bending forward and taking his face into her hands so he could see the determination and unwavering love in her eyes.

"We're in this together. Partners, remember?"

He nodded, turning his head slightly against her palm so he could kiss it.

"Thank you, my love."

"Oh goody, I see you crazy kids have cleared things up," Maggey announced gaily as she walked into the dining room, Gumshoe in tow. The former was carrying two delectable-looking silver platters of steaming food and the latter held the most gigantic, juiciest-looking turkey either guest had ever seen.

"And I notice no booze went flying this time, so it looks like your shirt and my couch are safe from harm, pal," the ex-flatfoot joked to the anterior defense lawyer, setting down the enormous bird beside the other dishes of sumptuous fare Maggey had placed on the table.

"I'm sorry you guys felt like you had to leave," Phoenix apologized. "It honestly wasn't anything I wouldn't have wanted you to hear. After all, you two are family."

" _See_?" Gumshoe cried plaintively, rubbing his tender earlobe and affecting a wounded expression. Did I not tell you there was no need to get up and leave – while _literally_ dragging me out of there by the ear, Mags?"

Maggey just shook her head at her daft husband, then flashed her most benign smile at her friends.

"Don't be silly. Even family is still allowed their privacy," she dismissed airily. "I'd sent Gordy to go get your presents because I thought it'd be fun to do a quick little gift exchange before supper, but I should check to see what's taking him so long…"

"Here are the presents, Mommy!" Gordy burst back into the room, dragging a large, velour Santa-style gift bag along the carpet behind him. "I got all the ones that said ' _Nick and Maya_ ' on them!"

"You got us a _sack_ full of goodies, guys?" The psychic teased, reaching on the floor by her feet where she'd placed the parcels they'd brought for the Gumshoes. "Way to make us feel bad! We only got you guys _one_ gift each!"

She handed Gordy his gift and then passed him the two boxes for his parents to him to deliver.

"Um, we _did_ only get you one gift each…" Maggey replied hesitantly, reaching for the sack of presents, but her son yanked it out of her grasp.

" _I'm_ gonna play Santa, Mommy! You and Daddy sit!" Gordy ordered. "I'm gonna give out the presents!"

"OK sport, whatever you say," Gumshoe chuckled, plopping his red and white hat onto the adorable youngster's head, then coming back to sit in his recliner while Maggey perched herself on his lap. "You can play Santa all you like!"

" _M – Maya_. This one's for you, Aunty Maya!" Gordy told her happily, placing a flat box into the diviner's arms and then passing the other one to the pianist. "And that one says _Nick_ … It's for you, Uncle Phoenix!"

"Thanks, Gordy," the DILF grinned, patiently waiting until everyone had been handed their gifts before carefully opening his package, unlike his girlfriend, who promptly tore into hers with her typical, child-like enthusiasm.

Everybody began unwrapping their presents.

"Oh wow, this is _so_ cool!" The little boy crowed with delight when he saw the complete action figure set his aunt and uncle had gotten him from the _Pink Princess, Steel Samurai, and Bronze Baby_ movie. "It has the Evil Magistrate too! Thank you so much, Aunty Maya and Uncle Phoenix!"

" _Holy cheese and tiny little crackers!_ " The poker champ had just opened his own box, his face registering utter stupefaction, just as Maya opened hers and let out a strangled gasp. " _Holy runaway oxen, Batman!"_

Gumshoe and Maggey's eyes widened in horror as they realized what parcels their son had just handed their guests.

"No, wait –!" The couple cried in unison, but it was too late.

"Er, was this supposed to be some sort of _hint?"_ Phoenix asked weakly as he held up the package, which contained a long-handled, turbo-charged, electronic _back shaver!_

Maya's jaw dropped, momentarily forgetting the _traumatic_ items that _she'd_ just unwrapped.

"Hey, _what gives,_ guys?" She demanded indignantly of the red-faced Gumshoes. "My boyfriend does _not_ have a hairy back!"

"That was meant for _D- Dick_ ," Maggey spluttered. "Gordy's just learning the alphabet in kindergarten, and just couldn't make out my terrible handwriting … he probably just saw the _i-c-k_ part and thought it said _Nick!"_

"Isn't this just dandy, honey!" Gumshoe groaned, burying his head in his hands. "Now our friends not only know I believed in Santa until I was a teenager but have been made aware that my _wife_ thinks I'm _furry gorilla!"_

"Don't feel bad about having lots of hair, Daddy," Gordy stopped playing with his figurines long enough to console his father. "After all, Mommy has hair on her bottom!"

There was a stunned silence in the room, before the Master exploded into a fit of giggles, followed by Phoenix.

"It's not funny guys!" Maggey scowled at the mirthful duo, her cheeks burning bright pink. "Feel free to stop laughing _anytime_ now!"

"Yeah, you big meanies! Gumshoe added wryly. "You just till you hear the stuff that comes out of _your_ kids' mouths!"

Maya was still giggling helplessly, her own opened gift abandoned on her lap, not even noticing Gordy walk over to his aunt and examine the contents of the box in confusion.

"Daddy, why did you get Aunty Maya a _picture_ book?" The boy asked, holding up a _very adult looking_ book in one hand and a pair of fur-lined handcuffs in another. "Can't she read words yet? It looks so _boring_ – it just keeps showing pictures of a _man hugging a lady_ on each page…"

"Oh my _God_ …" Maggey choked, her face now resembling a tomato. " _Gordy_ …"

"And why did you give Aunty handcuffs? Are you going to arrest her, Daddy?"

"Holy tater tots!" Gumshoe promptly overcame the shamed indignation of being a Chewbacca-style beast and lunged for his son, but wasn't quick enough. "That was for your _mother_!" He gasped haplessly as Gordy now held up the hot-pink, skimpy _Victoria's Secret_ thong for the whole room to see.

"I'm sorry, Aunty Maya, I think I mixed up your name with my Mommy's," Gordy informed Maya solemnly. "Cuz I remember Mommy was looking at pictures of this in a magazine, but Daddy told her it way too much money to spend on _dental floss!"_

"I guess Daddy changed his mind," Phoenix quipped with a smirk. "You can't put a price tag on _oral hygiene_ after all!"

Maya's shoulders were still shaking with helpless laughter as she tactfully turned the explicitly diagramed copy of the _Kuma Sutra_ downward and handed it, along with the fuzzy handcuffs to Maggey, whose mien was still beet-red with mortification.

"I believe these were for _you_ , too!" She rasped, wiping her streaming eyes and flashing an impish grin at her boyfriend, who was still rolling on the floor with laughter. "Too bad for _us_ , though, huh, Nick?"

"I could just _die!"_ Maggey moaned, clapping a hand to her forehead. "Guys…I'm so sorry…"

"For what? Giving us the best laugh we've had in _ages_?" Maya tittered.

"Seriously, are you _kidding?_ " Phoenix spluttered. "No need to apologize – you guys are the _best!_ Maya and I needed this so badly – you have no idea!"

Gumshoe handed his guests the other two, remaining unwrapped boxes Gordy had given to his parents in error and scratched his head gawkily.

" _These_ are actually for you guys," he told them, still blushing. "Hope you like them!"

"We love the wine and cheese club membership you guys got us, by the way," Maggey was glowing with pleasure. "Two varieties of artisanal cheese selections and two different, critically acclaimed, accompanying wines every month! How thoughtful!"

"I _do_ like my cheese," Gumshoe admitted, smiling broadly. "Although with an incident like _this_ one here, I could certainly use a good, hefty dose of the grape stuff to get past this!"

"At least we needn't even ask if you'd like some _cheese_ with your _whine_ ," Phoenix deadpanned.

"Yeah, you should know, ya _wino!"_ Maya twittered.

"Don't judge him, you'll start to drink too, once _you_ become parents!" Maggey added, laughing. "Kids do say the darndest things! Now open your gifts, which I imagine you'll find far more appropriate!"

"Two tickets to the _Steel Samurai_ live stage production!" Maya enthused, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Thanks so much, you guys rock! Pearly will love this!"

"She'd better," Phoenix said dryly. "Even if we were in a different situation than we are now, Maya, I'd still rather spend a month in the dentist chair than be the one going with you to that!"

"You just _wait_ till I get you back upstairs and see what kind of gift you're getting for _that_ smart-aleck remark, Buster!" She scowled at him. " _A lump of coal_ , that's for sure!"

"Hey! I've _done_ my hard time already! Have you forgotten the _three_ _long years_ I previously endured of your _brain-numbing_ kiddy samurai shows, Maya?"

_His brain_ _ **must**_ _numb if he thinks_ _ **that part**_ _of his life is over now,_ Maya snickered to herself. _Just wait till he sees what I got him for Christmas!_

She smiled angelically at her boyfriend.

"Why don't you see what's inside your box, Nick?"

Phoenix tore off the wrapping and unveiled a pretty chrome and glass French press coffee maker. He smiled thankfully.

"Thanks a lot, guys! Perfect timing as my current java machine is on the fritz," he told them, admiring the Bodum model's fine Swiss craftsmanship. "And this will go so perfectly with those mysterious, premium blends of Arabica beans from South America that I just got in the mail!"

"Someone sent you an anonymous package of _coffee_?" Maya asked, surprised. "Is there a Secret Santa or Admirer I should know about, Nick?"

"Well, I'll let you know how _generous_ a gift-giver they are once I try their thoughtful blend," he answered, his eyes twinkling. "But in the meantime, it _does_ appear to be the good stuff, so a very Merry Christmas to me, indeed!"

Maggey clapped her hands.

"OK, now that everyone's done with their presents, Dick has an announcement he has to make!"

"If you want me to investigate that package for you, pal, I'll be able to as of the New Year," Gumshoe told them proudly, an ear to ear grin on his face. "Guess who's back on the police force as of January?"

The couple was astounded only for a split second. Then they spoke at once.

"That's awesomesauce!" Maya cheered. "Way to go, pal!"

"A hearty congratulations to you – newly reinstated Detective Gumshoe!" Phoenix raised his wine glass.

"That's _Chief Gumshoe_ now, pals!" The big man smiled with pride as he scratched his head. "The old chief retired, and _I'm_ _sick and tired_ of the retirement life already. I miss the force. Even if it is mostly a desk job now, once an officer, always an officer."

"He was going stir-crazy being at home these last few years. Dick _belongs_ on the force," Maggey sighed. "Plus, we're running out of room for all the junk he keeps buying in bulk since he discovered the joys of economy-sized, wholesale shopping! Do you know the guest room has floor to ceilin _g_ stacked packages of Costco's Kirkland brand toilet paper?!"

"Best be prepared in the event things suddenly get pretty shitty," Maya quipped, then blushed as Phoenix gave her a pointed look and then tilted his head at Gordy, who thankfully appeared oblivious to the pun as he was too engrossed with his new toys.

"Well, I won't need to be worrying this time around on the job that I'll be putting up with anyone else's _sh- er, shitake mushrooms_ ," Gumshoe corrected himself hastily as he puffed out his chest. "It's not like I need the money now. And, if they don't like my performance, it's not like anyone can try to hurt me by threatening to _lower my pay_ or _fire_ me!"

Phoenix cracked up at that one. "Does Edgeworth know yet?"

"I thought I'd surprise my ex-boss with the news the next time I talk to him."

"That is so amazing, Gumshoe, coming back as the boss, and not having to take any guff from anyone!" Maya enthused. "I mean, _I'd_ be milking this for all it's worth, knowing I was untouchable!"

She snickered and lowered her voice a few octaves.

" _Yeah fool, I'm coming in late!_ _And you bet your butt that I'm going home early_! Whatcha gonna do to me, huh, _punk_? Do you feel lucky?"

"He's becoming a cop and rejoining the force, Maya," Phoenix laughingly reminded her. "He's not morphing into Clint Eastwood and headed to the Wild, Wild West!"

"True, although I think my husband would make quite the sexy cowboy." Maggey smiled lovingly at Gumshoe before letting out another gusty sigh. "Alas, Dick _finally_ has found the perfect excuse for wearing his trademark trench coats again! Ergo, I have no room to raise an objection _, this_ time around!"

The kindly woman shook her head ruefully.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again: You can take a detective out of the police department, but _darned_ if you can get the trench coat off of the detective!"

"I swear, I will _only_ wear the new designer ones, and throw them out as soon as they get ratty or bullet-holed honey," Gumshoe promised, rising from his seat and gesturing for the others to follow him out of the living room.

Somehow, they were all marshaled into the dining room, and the feast began.

There was bread sauce for the turkey, apple sauce for the pickled pork, gravy for both, and a mound of sage and onion stuffing. Crispy potatoes of course, as well as pumpkin, baked tomatoes, and an ample helping of the green vegetables. Best of all was the still-steaming, aromatic freshly baked loaf, which Maya eagerly grabbed first.

The Master brought the fresh, warm bread to her nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled rich, promising a delightful taste. Picking up a knife, she applied copious amounts of thick, creamy yellow butter. She spooned out a dollop of sweet, tangy blackberry jelly and slathered the fruity preserve onto the spongy white bread. She ripped off a chunk, stuffing the piece into her mouth. It was soft and warm. The pleasant smoothness of the butter blended perfectly with the bitter-sweet taste of blackberries.

There was soon contented silence at the table as everyone dug into the delicious food. Maggey had truly outdone herself that year, and Phoenix found himself being happier than he'd been in ages, just soaking up the atmosphere of having those near and dear to him on this festive occasion. He felt truly blessed.

_It's not about the turkey for me, or the stuffing, or even the roast potatoes. Don't get me wrong, I love all that stuff and Christmas wouldn't be the same without it. But a holiday that's all about getting the loved ones together, being thankful for all that we have; each other, our home, and the food we eat. Being able to sit around the table, all of us together, and thank God, that's just magic to me. It's a holiday when we just kick back and celebrate how wonderful our ordinary lives are._

But there was something else he was grateful for more than anything, and that something was what was making a part of him incredibly antsy and eager to fast-forward this delightful feast, so he could get his beautiful girlfriend back upstairs and _really_ let the good times roll, and _pick up where they'd left off_ from that steamy moment in Edgeworth's bathroom.

Earlier than night, when a _horny as hell_ Phoenix had left the facilities while Maya was finishing her bath, he'd stumbled up something that had just 'happened' to be resting on the bedside night table on her side.

A _very_ distinctive sheet of stationary.

At the top of the striped paper were the words _Wish List_ printed in a font designed to resemble a child's scrawl. Below that were the beautifully formed letters he recognized as Maya's neat handwriting.

* * *

_**Pearly: new pearl necklace for her magatama** _

_**Trucy: golden magic wand** _

_**Nick: Grape Juice of the Month Club Year Membership** _

* * *

And then she'd run a slash through that list and began a new one.

* * *

**_My Wish List – (naughty)_ **

_Nick naked and wrapped in a bow._

_Nick kissing me senseless._

_Nick cooking me dinner naked. (so I can stare at his biteable ass)_

_Going down on Nick. (yum)_

_Nick going down on me. (double yum)_

_Fucking Nick until he can't walk._

* * *

Phoenix cast a surreptitious sideways glance at the love of his life, who was merrily chatting away and stuffing herself to oblivion, completely unaware of what he had in store for her the moment he got her alone that night.

He smiled slyly to himself.

_Merry Sexmas indeed!_

This Christmas, not-so-Saint Nick was going to ensure that sure _all_ of Maya Fey's wishes came true…


	65. Jingle Your Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Ring My Bell
> 
> Hey Baby, you jingle my bell  
> the way you run your fingers  
> across my skin  
> makes me want you  
> again and again
> 
> Yes, Honey, you jingle my bell  
> with your million dollar smile  
> vibrant and bright  
> you make the holidays  
> merry and right
> 
> That's right, Sugar, you jingle my bell  
> you love me good  
> you love me well
> 
> You, my darling, jingle my bell  
> you're my personal  
> Mr/Mrs. Crinkle  
> keep ringing my bell  
> jingle, jingle, jingle

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Edgeworth's Love Shack, Empire Bellagio Penthouse_  
December 24, 2024, 8:00 PM

The evening had been perfect despite everything, Phoenix mused as he went into the master bedroom and pulled off the holiday sweater Trucy had given him as an early Christmas gift and stepped out of his jeans. The company had been wonderful as always, and the Gumshoes had provided their guests with a decadent feast, along with a plate of leftovers to take home, which he doubted they would dive into. He figured it was more for his gluttonous girlfriend than himself; Phoenix was tided over well until breakfast the following morning.

_And I've got some_ _very_ _special breakfast plans for us tomorrow,_ he chuckled to himself as he changed back into his comfortable sweat pants and T-shirt. _But first, there's the matter of_ _ **dessert**_ **,** _and treating a certain_ _vixen_ _to a_ _not-so-silent-night_ _as her 'secret' wish list dictated…_

These were the more naughty than nice thoughts that had been plaguing Phoenix's mind all evening and had continued as soon as they got back to Edgeworth's condo. In fact, he was so entranced with visions of _Maya's sugar buns dancing in his head_ that he was certain he had to be losing his mind when he heard the unmistakable sounds of his girlfriend rustling around and then the tell-tale of pots and pans banging in the kitchen.

_Jiminy Christmas! What on in the name of roasting chestnuts could my lover possibly be whipping up –_ _not even two hours since_ _our decadent holiday food orgy?!_

Since Maya was spending Christmas Day with Pearl in Kurain, the couple would be celebrating Christmas together that evening. As much as he loved his friends, the hobo been nearly bursting with impatience for the festivities to end and Gordy to be put to bed so he could go have his girlfriend all to himself. Now here they were, alone at last… and she was _cooking_ something?!

This simply wouldn't do! The lusty DILF had one hell of a craving to satisfy, but it wasn't for _food!_

Grumbling to himself about his lousy luck of falling in love with a woman with a bottomless pit for a stomach, he opened the door of the bedroom and padded down the hall, noticing the culinary noises had ceased and now been replaced by the sweet sounds of Christmas carols playing from the living room stereo.

"I'm coming out with one of your presents, my love, so we can do the gift exchange now," Phoenix called as he neared the room, his mystery box in his hands. He'd hidden it in his overnight bag before heading into the shower earlier that evening; unlike himself, Maya wasn't very good about waiting. Her childlike inquisitiveness meant her curiosity often overruled her joy of being surprised, so he often needed to put in the extra effort of hiding her gifts to keep her from sneaking a peek.

The aroma of hot chocolate greeted him as he walked into the living room – and stopped dead in his tracks. He'd been planning on giving Maya her main gift that night instead of the following morning in case they got rushed and had been plotting about the best way to surprise her with it, but those plans had just gotten tossed out the window.

Because reclining in the family room chaise longue, next to the Christmas tree, was a gift that beat the hell out of anything he'd ever seen wrapped up for him with a bow.

His girlfriend, Maya Fey.

Maya Fey in lingerie.

Maya Fey in see-through, _Christmas-themed_ lingerie.

Her smooth legs were crossed at the ankle, bare except for the spiky heeled, shiny black boots that ended below her knees. A satiny red robe, trimmed in fluffy white fur, was held together by two silk bows tied at her hips. A shiny black belt cinched her flat stomach, and more white fur embellished the strapless neckline, bringing his attention to her perfect breasts and pink nipples pressing against the gauzy fabric. The Master's luscious obsidian mane fell loosely around her shoulders, curled at the ends, with a fleecy red-and-white Santa hat atop her head.

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

She'd managed to morph from of her red Christmas sweater-dress into _this_ hot little number within the two minutes it'd taken him to get out of his attire?! Where had she stashed that outfit?! Or had she been wearing this underneath all along?!

She smiled mischievously at his awestruck expression.

"Merry Christmas, _Saint Nick_."

"Mrs. Claus," he smirked. "You've changed."

"It was time for a makeover."

She stood then and he saw that she was wearing a floor-length, red satin robe. She also held a wrapped gift in her hands.

He finally picked his jaw up off the ground.

"Nice Christmas outfit, you little Vixen."

"Oh, this is just the _wrapping_ ," she winked as she handed him the package. "You get the _present_ shortly. But first, open your other gift."

He opened his present and smiled, trying to look as surprised as a man who had read his girlfriend's gift list could possibly appear.

"Wow, this is so nice, my love. Thank you."

It was a very thoughtful present; an annual membership for the Juice of the Month Club, which sent a three-pack of juices and nectars to someone special all year round, in monthly specialty packs which included two bottles of 100% fruit juices and one of premium freshly pressed, 100% fruit nectars.

"Do you honestly like it?" Maya asked nervously, nibbling at her lip in the way that drove him crazy with desire. "I know you love your grape juice but there are other flavors, too."

"Most definitely." He read the card insert and whistled appreciatively. "Pecco Sparkling Grape Juice, Germany…Organic Red Grape Juice, Austria… Sparkling Syrah & Valdiguie Grape Juice, Castello di Amorosa…wow, this is high-end stuff. I love it!"

"You're so hard to shop for!" She laughed. "I emailed Mr. Edgeworth to ask for ideas and he recommended piano lessons!"

_What an ass! He hasn't even heard me play, except that_ **_one_ ** _time, nearly six years ago! I'd like to think I've evolved_ **_somewhat_ ** _since then!_

In the spirit of the holiday season, though, the hobo fought back his indignation and beamed at his girlfriend.

"Well, he sure knew how to steer you in the right direction if he talked you out of musical instruction and convinced you _this_ was a better option. It's great. Thank you, my love."

Phoenix drew her into his arms. Her kiss and the feel of her body beneath her robe reawakened his concupiscence for her. After a minute he forced himself to let her go.

"Okay, time for your gift." He retrieved her present from under the tree, where it'd fallen from his hands the moment he'd set eyes on the sexiest Mrs. Claus he'd ever seen. "I hope you like it."

He watched as Maya removed the wrapping with eyes as excited as those of a child from the corner of his eye as he bent down and threw a couple of logs into the fireplace. He'd just gotten the fire going when she spoke from behind him, now sounding utterly bewildered.

"Nick, what _is_ all this?"

Phoenix stood up and turned around. The spirit medium was wearing a perplexed smile on her face as she pointed to the items in the box, which contained some CD-ROMs and a bunch of newspaper clippings. He handed her one with a flourish, an expectant smiled on his mien.

Her brows knitted together in confusion as she looked at the item in her hand. It was from the Ivy College Newspaper, containing an article about a soon to be graduating law student.

He smiled excitedly when she still seemed puzzled.

" _Apollo Justice?"_ Maya was completely flummoxed. "What kind of a name is _that_ _?!"_

"What's in a name?" Phoenix dismissed, waving his hand. "It's no weirder than April May, or Penny Nichols! Maya, I didn't want to get into it at the Gumshoe's place earlier tonight, but _this_ was my Christmas present to you! Don't you _get_ it? It's my evidence to prove that I really _do_ have an action plan in mind to fix this whole disbarring mess and clear my name!"

Understanding slowly began to dawn on her.

"You'd said you needed to find yourself a good lawyer… but that it would take months, even _years_ …" She glared at him. "You got me all worked up about earlier tonight, making me think I'd be putting my life on hold for even longer than I already have, for _nothing_ , Nick? How _could_ you?!"

"I'm sorry to have lied to you like that but there are some things that I wanted to keep just between us for now, my love. I hope you understand… I certainly wasn't counting on being put on the spot like that and having the whole issue of our secrecy come up in front of the Gumshoes," Phoenix apologized, leaning down and pressing a swift kiss on her forehead. He looked positively giddy. "The truth is, Maya, that no, it won't take years. Because I've finally found him! I've found my lawyer!"

The diviner was intrigued by her lover's uncharacteristic enthusiasm. He was like a happy little boy who was pleading with her to share in his revelation of a newly discovered toy. Ergo, she decided to temporarily set aside her anger – for now.

She squinted at the photo of Apollo in the article.

"What's with his hair, Nick? He looks like a little devil! Are those… _horns_ _?!"_

"Your boyfriend has _porcupine_ spikes, so I can't believe _you'd_ pick on _anyone_ _else_ for their hairdo after that!" Phoenix chuckled. "At least, _I_ sure can't! But no, silly girl, look closer. They're not _horns_ _!"_

"You're right…" she scrunched up her pretty face as she held the clipping closer. "More like radio antennae … I bet you he can tune into Tokyo with those things!"

" _Maya_ _!"_ Phoenix laughing admonished. "Be nice! It's merely a bad photo. The kid simply has spiky hair, too, just like I do. Whether or not _his_ are natural or not though is what remains to be seen!"

"Sorry, Nick," she sighed with acquiescence. "Please, regale me full details now about your findings and this Clarion of Revelations! Full disclosure _is_ part of my holiday package, is it not?"

Maya curled up next to him by the fire and listened as the card shark revealed, at last, the details of his latest investigations. She realized that he had been up to quite a lot. He had recordings of conversations from way back when, as well as detailed reports about evidence and a whole bunch of complicated legal spiel that Edgeworth had taken note of and put together – all stuff that was out of her realm of comprehension.

Phoenix explained how he wanted to formulate some sort of trap for Trucy's father to slither up from whatever rock he'd been hiding under, and then have Apollo retry the case of Magnifi Gramarye, Trucy's grandfather.

The whole thing sounded quite convoluted and frankly, a little insane.

_But this is_ _ **Nick**_ _. If anybody can do it,_ _ **he**_ _can,_ the psychic tried to convince herself, trying to squelch the old familiar misgivings creeping up on her again. _I need to believe in him, the way he's always believed in me._

Maya wanted to be supportive and optimistic about Phoenix's newfound, rekindled hope. She understood that his last trial had been quite complicated. However, what she still didn't grasp was why it meant they had to keep mum about their relationship. After half an hour of listening to his theories, she finally exploded with exasperation.

"Forgive me for sounding like a broken record, Nick, but as promising as Mr. Horny sounds, all this still doesn't clarify the $64,000 question that you refuse to answer!"

Phoenix looked taken aback; he'd thought she'd be happier about his progress.

"What are you talking about, Maya?"

" _Why_ are we living this way?" She demanded. "I just don't understand! Our friends all know, and Pearly knows. So _why_ , Nick? Give me one _good_ reason why we can't be open about the fact that we're together!"

"Maya…" He expelled a long breath. "Are you willing to give me … six months?"

"Six months? That's it?" She eyed him wearily. "In half a year, you're telling me that we can _finally_ come out of hiding like mole people?"

"I promise you, Maya." He cradled her face in his hands and regarded her with earnest eyes. "If I can't get this all cleared up in six months, I'm going to grab Trucy, rescue you and Pearls from the elders' wrath, and then the four of us can move to someplace far, far away. Start a new life somewhere – anywhere. I don't know where – like maybe to Canada or something."

As crazy as it all seemed, as crazy as _Phoenix_ often seemed, for the first time in forever, the Master felt a sense of peace. Of _relief_. Yes, she often wondered at times if her swain was just an overly paranoid lunatic, but he was _her_ paranoid loon. He belonged to her. She belonged to him. End of story.

"You win Nick." Maya snuggled closer to him and flashed an impish grin. "I shall start practicing my Canadian, just in case, _eh_? Did you know that aside from poutine, maple syrup, and bacon, Canadians are famous for their beer being comparatively stronger to American pee-pee water?"

Phoenix, who didn't drink at all save for champagne on New Year's Eve, arched an amused eyebrow at his equally non-drinking girlfriend.

"OK, so Northerner barley is stronger… _And_ _?"_ he prompted. "Your point is..?"

"Therefore, their men look _cuter!"_ Maya giggled. "They _do_ say beauty is in the eye of the _beer holder_ , right, Nick?"

" _Drink till he's cute –_ _then wake up to Coyote Ugly!"_ Phoenix cracked up and kissed her nose. " _Such_ is the true North's motto!"

They spent the next little while chatting about the forged diary page, the guns, and the pointy-haired young man Phoenix had decided to place his fate upon. Amidst the items in the box, Maya retrieved a different photo of Apollo Justice, this one in color, where he was wearing a sharp-looking red suit with a red vest.

She refrained this time from japing about how the combination of red and the horns made the lad look very much like a pointy-haired devil, because in actuality, Apollo, although baby-faced, was quite a handsome young man. Moreover, with this more flattering picture, she could confirm that he didn't _actually_ have horns. The photo had quotes from him about why he was studying to be a defense attorney. His words were so reminiscent of her late older sister is gave her a creepy sense of déjà vu, almost as though the future red attorney was channeling Mia and she was speaking through him somehow.

The necromancer held the photo up next to the DILF and smirked.

"You know, he _is_ quite the cutie pie! In fact, he kind of looks like _you_ , don't you think? Like a younger mini-Nick!" She teased. "I bet you could pass for his _Daddy!"_

"The cat's out of the bag! I guess I forgot to mention that I fathered him when I was _11."_ Phoenix rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I think you need to get your eyes checked – ee look _nothing_ alike, aside from the spiky hair! However, what's weird is I _do_ think he sort of looks like _Trucy_ , of all people if you squint your eyes a bit."

It was Maya's turn to crack up now at how ridiculous her boyfriend looked doing his Squint Eastwood impression, his eyes pinched almost shut, scrutinizing the photo and appearing slightly constipated!

"I wish I could meet Apollo," she sighed. "There is something oddly comforting about this guy … he's got a good aura to him, you know? If he means half of what he said in those essays and those mock trial transcripts, that means he's _got_ to be a really good guy. The only problem is that since he's going to work for Kristoph Gavin, post-graduation, what chance do you have?"

"I can't afford to pay him," he acknowledged with a shrug. "But I'm betting on the fact that as Kristoph's so-called friend, I can use my connection to him."

"You're _acting_ as Kristoph's friend? This is the same guy who, along with his brother, you and Mr. Edgeworth suspect could have been behind the whole thing?"

"Yes he is, and yes we do." Phoenix raked a hand through his spikes. "I'm inherently aware of how psychos like Gavin work, Maya. I _know_ Kristoph. His hubris and his narcissism will make him think he can't be caught; that he's the king shit who can't be beaten. He's too self-enamored and inflated with his own sense of self-importance that he can't see what I can already determine very clearly – that Apollo is a far more superior lawyer than he could ever be."

"How can you make such a bold claim, Nick? You don't even know this kid."

"I've been watching him," the ex-lawyer admitted sheepishly. "I've seen some of his mock trials at the college. Maya, he's really good. He's better than _I_ ever was."

"Better than _you_ , Nick? _Impossible_. You were a _legend_ ," she declared loyally. "I don't believe that for a minute!"

"As flattering as that is my love, I'm only telling the truth. I showed you those papers he's written about why he's a defense attorney. This kid is an amazing genius. Just brilliant."

Maya didn't want to undermine this admittedly impressive-sounding young man, or worse, her boyfriend's choices, but this was such a huge gamble. They _both_ had a lot at stake here.

"He's still only a kid, Nick," she pointed out cautiously. "And that's an awful lot of faith you're bestowing in him."

"He's only a year or two younger than I was when I started at Mia's practice," Phoenix reminded her, undaunted. " _I_ was just a kid too, remember?"

"Nick, I love you." The village leader's dark eyes were uncharacteristically serious now. "And more than anything, I want to be with you. I've known you since I was a kid; I have loved you since _I_ was one myself … but we _neither_ of us are kids anymore. I'm tired of lying and sneaking around. It isn't fun anymore. As much as I've always liked sharing secrets with you, now I'm ready for it to be over, and just be with you like a normal girl can be with her boyfriend. I hope I'm not the only one who feels this way."

"I gave you my word, my love. In six months, if I can't fix or resolve this mess, I'm going to throw all my research efforts into investigating where we want to move to – as a family."

"Six months is still a long time," she pouted. "Why can't Pearly and I just move in with you and Trucy _now_?"

He dropped his gaze from hers then so she could no longer read his face.

"Maya … If my plans with Apollo don't work, I don't want any of us to stay in the city. Let's just hope it won't come to that. Are you still willing to tough this out with me?"

"Like you need to ask," Maya sighed. "My answer will never change, so you may as well stop asking."

She was in Phoenix's arms then, giving him her lips, sealing her words with a kiss. He tasted like peppermint candy canes and kissed like a bad boy. Her lips parted on a sigh and he dipped his tongue inside, stroking hers. She felt the jolt straight to her toes … and points in between. She kept her head long enough to think, _no matter how rough things seem for us at times, I always know that in the end, it'll be like this_ , and then she stopped thinking entirely and just let herself feel.

Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey. It was set in stone as far as she was concerned. They belonged together. As she'd always said, they were partners.

_Like Bonnie and Clyde. We go together, ride, or die._

Phoenix was starting to fantasize about what Maya would look like without that robe on when suddenly, she broke the smooch.

"I made us hot chocolate. Go get some."

He shook his head.

"The only hot thing I want right now is _you_."

He went after her lips again, but she laughingly leaned away.

"No baby. I made it from scratch," she insisted. "None of that pour from a packet instant crap. I want to see how you like it, OK?"

Phoenix gave up trying to sample his lover's natural sweetness and loped into the kitchen, following the aromas of hot chocolate. As he poured himself a steaming mug, Maya turned on some music, and The Temptations classic version of _Silent Night_ began playing softly.

"Nick, for this long-awaited, beautiful gift of reassurance and promise you've given me, you know you're gonna _get_ _it_ , right?"

"Get what, exactly?"

" _Whatever_ it is you want, it's yours." She met his eyes with a scorching expression. "… _anything_."

" _You're_ all I want for Christmas," he told her hoarsely. "You're all I've ever wanted and needed, for the rest of the year. For the rest of my _life."_

His gorgeous sexpot flashed him a sultry smile. She shimmied next to the tree, then released the sash encircling her trim waist. As he watched, she peeled her gown off her shoulders, let it drop to the carpet, and stepped out of it.

Phoenix was glad that he hadn't been sipping the hot chocolate at that moment – because if he had been, he would have choked to death.

Maya wore a red teddy – if you could call the assemblage of lace and string laces hugging her beautiful frame a teddy. The lace was barely enough material to cover her nipples and the cleft of her sex. The strings held everything together. The polished magatama necklace encircling her neck sparkled under the lights on the Christmas tree.

Phoenix gawked at her, awed by her beauty.

Then she turned slowly around, and his heart slammed as he saw the tiny red thong panties – the string at the back of the teddy disappearing in the cleft of her rounded buttocks.

He sat his mug down and was across the room in an instant, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He kissed the base of her neck. His hands caressed her breasts and then slid lower, seeking out her treasure.

As Phoenix kissed her, Maya whispered, "Do you remember the first time we were here, and we made love, how good it was?"

By way of reminder, she pressed her bottom back against him, grinding her ass against his throbbing manhood.

"I remember," he murmured into her neck. "How could I ever forget?"

"I want to make this Christmas _blow_ that memory out of your mind."

She flashed him a siren smile that made his pulses throb. "

"I'm _always_ ready to slide down your chimney…"

"First things first," she whispered. "Now, reach into your stocking, Saint Nick, and pull out your little holiday bonus treat."

Phoenix walked backward to the fireplace, never once taking his searing gaze off his siren, who'd settled back onto the armchair, and blindly fumbled into the sock, finally retrieving a small plastic bottle.

Because they were celebrating the holiday, Maya selected a fragranced body lotion called _Dreamy Chocolate Mint_.

"Consider this a treat that's part of your holiday package." She licked her lips. "Now strip down, Not-So-Saint Nick."

He was already lifting his shirt.

"Want to sit on my lap ... and tell me if you've been a naughty or nice little girl this year?"

Maya tittered softly. Then she tucked her legs under her, rose onto all fours, and crawled down the chaise toward him.

Phoenix watched her with hungry eyes.

_She's so damn sexy, my cock stiffens so hard that you could hang an ornament from it._

"Well, I've tried to be nice, but every time I look at you, Not-So-Saint-Nick, the _naughty_ just takes over."

Maya bit her lip – because she knew it drove him crazy – and watched his every move as he tossed his shirt on the floor. Her eyes caressed his arms, chest, and abs, then focused on his fingers as he slowly untied the drawstring on his joggers and slid them his toned legs, stifling a slight gasp as she crawled up to him and with a surprisingly strong push, shoved him so that he toppled backward and sitting flat on his rear on the rug in front of the fire.

"Besides," she breathed. "I've always thought _nice_ was way too overrated anyway..."

She crawled over to him so she was kneeling by his feet, her hands slowly sliding up his firm thighs.

" _My love_ ," he murmured. He couldn't take being toyed with right now. She'd gotten him so worked up that if he let her manipulate him anymore, he'd be jacking off in front of her. Grimacing, he reached down, took her by the wrist, and eased her hand away. "You're making it damn difficult to remember I still haven't given you _all_ your Christmas gifts yet."

"Later," the normally present-hungry Maya Fey dismissed impatiently. "Christmas is a time for _giving_. And I'm not through _giving_ with you yet, Nick. After all…" she leaned forward so he could feel her warm breath at the top of his thighs. "I know that you know it was _on my list_ to do _this_ …"

She was going to put her mouth on him. Wrap those soft, sultry lips around his cock and brand him for life. And when she did, she could kiss goodbye any idea of getting the rest of her gift this evening. He'd never make it to tonight without fucking her senseless first. Phoenix gripped her shoulder, torn between dragging her descending mouth away from his hard-as-stone erection and holding her in place.

Her breath whispered against his skin, a pulse-point away from his swollen cock head.

"Let me please you, Nick."

It wasn't the searing heat of her lips as they slid over the blunt tip or the mind-blowing suction as she took him into the back of her throat that sent Phoenix staggering backward onto the rug. No, what dropped him onto his back, and completely at her mercy, was her desire to give him pleasure. He couldn't remember, in his lifetime, when he'd never craved a connection more than he did right now. He'd never thought to be this close to a partner, never expected to feel that pang in his chest that made it seem as if his heart would burst from the emotions welling up inside him.

She loved that part of his body; loved being on her knees in front of him, digging her fingers into the tight muscles of his ass as she stroked his manhood and sucked him until he couldn't stand it anymore. And she loved it when he lost his famous control, threading his fingers through her hair, holding her head as he drove himself between her greedy lips, faster and faster, until he exploded, flooding her mouth and her senses at the same time. The salty sweetness, the musky smell, the contradiction of soft and rough textures –all of it was pure, undiluted Phoenix.

Maya gazed up at him once more, finding the sated pleasure still etched over his beautiful features. Bottom lip swollen from biting it, black hair moist with sweat and clinging to his temples, Phoenix truly did wear debauchery well.

"And a _ho-ho-ho_ to you," she purred, with a satisfied smile.

He popped open one eye and caught her knowing smirk.

"You feeling proud of yourself, are you, Miss Fey?"

"Very," she replied smugly.

"In that case…" he shot up then with a newfound burst of unexpected energy. "I do believe there were a few other items on that _wish list_ of yours that needed full-filling…"

The next thing Maya knew, she was lying flat on her back, her skimpy lingerie promptly cast aside as she found herself suddenly being the lucky recipient of the world's naughtiest massage, with the very same holiday lotion she'd purchased for her boyfriend!

As he massaged the scented lotion into her soft skin, Phoenix made sure he covered every inch of her body, from her neck to her toes. He loved touching her, loved the smooth softness of her skin, the swell of her feminine curves, the heat that radiated off her in waves of pure, raw femininity.

The fragrance had him thinking about something sweet. He was thinking that Maya's body was _his_ candy – especially a certain part of her. He gazed down at said _candy_ as she lay with her eyes closed, enjoying his hands. She'd shaved down there, probably so that she could wear the hell out of that scarlet teddy she had on.

_Chocolate candy._

_Plump, sweet slices._

_With a juicy center._

The curse and the benefit of having a mind like his was that rather than always living in the moment, his active imagination often had him visualizing the 'what ifs' in life. Like right now, he imagined the taste of his girlfriend's juices on his tongue. He imagined how her naked sex would look as his erection parted those smooth, delectable-looking lips, how they would spread to accept his thickness and pulsate around him as he sank into her sweetness up to the hilt.

Okay, fuck this massage. He wanted some candy.

He pressed his lips against the swell of her pubic mound, just above the top of her cleft. She sighed and pushed up against his mouth. He slid his tongue down, into her cleft, pausing for a moment to give her clit a quick flick.

Maya shivered and inhaled through her teeth, making a hissing sound.

"You like that?" He probed. Yeah, he knew it was a completely redundant question. But he liked to hear her express her need.

"Mmm, yes," she sighed. " _God_ , yes."

He pressed his lips against her smooth, plump candy. Maya moaned in response.

Phoenix lifted his face.

"I want you to come for me. I want to drink you up. Do you want to come for me?"

"Mmm, yes, Santa baby…"

"Then say it, you naughty vixen."

"I want to come for you," Maya rasped.

Phoenix smiled and closed his mouth over her sex.

She groaned and thrashed when she came. As if the intensity of her orgasm was too much to bear, she tried to move away from him, but he showed her no mercy. He gripped the cheeks of her bottom and held her trapped against his mouth as he sucked her hard, trying to drink her up for real.

But he wasn't done with her. He wanted all of his candy, in every way.

Even as Maya shuddered and moaned through her bliss, Phoenix rose, gripped her feet and pushed her legs up and back, until her body was nearly folded in half with her knees on the rug on either side of her head. He positioned himself and pushed, sinking into her still convulsing wetness.

Usually, he had to take it slow, allowing her to gradually adjust to his girth. But right now she was more than ready for him. He sank into her halfway on the first long, slow thrust.

She grabbed her own legs then, behind her knees, signaling her acceptance and her need. Phoenix braced himself with his hands on the ground.

"Do you want to make love?" He asked with a devilish grin.

Maya stared up at him, her eyes smoldering like liquid brown fire.

"No," she rasped.

"What do you want then?"

Through clenched teeth, she moaned, "I want you to fuck the shit out of me."

"You were right," he growled, as he set out to do _just_ that. " _Nice_ is _way_ too overrated…"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.beautiful-love-quotes.com/christmas-poems.html


	66. Faithfully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “New beginnings are in order, and you are bound to feel some level of excitement as the old year winds up and the New Year unfolds.”

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Edgeworth’s Love Shack, Empire Bellagio Penthouse_  
December 25, 2024, 6:30 AM

When Maya woke up Christmas morning, she was naked and alone. Frowning at the digital alarm clock next to the bed, she saw it was still early – Pearly wasn’t due back for another good few hours and there was no sign of Phoenix.

Also, she had no recollection of coming to bed, as when she awakened, she was conscious of two things…the most heavenly smells wafting into the bedroom, where she was laying under the cool Egyptian cotton sheets, and that her boyfriend was nowhere in sight.

The last memory she had was making wild, passionate love with her soulmate before the roaring fireplace before passing out just after midnight in his arms on the rug in front of the hearth.

She swung her legs over the bed and reached for her satiny robe from last night, which Phoenix had thoughtfully placed by the night table on her side. Her thighs felt slightly shaky as her bare feet hit the plush carpet beneath her, and she had to grab the footboard to steady herself.

So much for her wish list of leaving Nick unable to move! After three rounds before midnight last night, _Maya_ was the one who had been fucked until she could barely walk!

She must have really been down for the count, the psychic thought, blushing slightly, as she hadn’t even been aware of Phoenix carrying her to bed, him joining her, or his absence from her side till that moment.

That tantalizing aroma was making her stomach growl, and she had the insatiable urge to follow it. Tying her gown around her waist, she headed to the door and heard the faint strains from Edgeworth’s baby grand piano in the living room, as well as her boyfriend’s sweet voice singing along to the ballad.

* * *

 _**Highway run** _ **_  
Into the midnight sun  
Wheels go round and round  
You're on my mind  
Restless hearts  
Sleep alone tonight  
Sendin' all my love  
Along the wire_ **

* * *

Maya was startled, to say the least. For one thing, the pianist tickling those ivories sure as hell needed no lessons from what _she_ could determine! The music playing of the _Journey_ song on that piano was nearly flawless.

But moreover, her boyfriend’s singing voice was so melodious…so hauntingly _beautiful_ that a wave of emotion washed over her then, bringing unexpected tears to her eyes even though she could only make out snatches of the lyrics from the bedroom. 

She opened the door and padded down the hallway.

* * *

 _**Right down the line** _ **  
_It's been you and me  
And lovin' a music man  
Ain't always what it's supposed to be_ **

* * *

**_Oh, girl, you stand by me  
I'm forever yours, faithfully_ **

* * *

Three things hit the village leader at once.

One, the heavenly whiff that had been partially responsible for awaking her was the scent of bacon, mixed with an indeterminable sweetness, coming from the kitchen. Two, the dining table had been immaculately set with two place settings in readiness of whatever that scrumptious smelling substance was. And three, seated at the piano, crooning along to the piano, was her gorgeous, shirtless lover, wearing her Santa hat from the night before, who smiled broadly at her as he continued the next verse.

* * *

 _**Through space and time** _ **  
_Always another show  
Wondering where I am  
Lost without you_ **

* * *

She hadn’t heard him sing for almost six years, ever since his debut song at The Borscht Bowl. He’d made her cry then, for different reasons than now, but even though their circumstances were much different now, she still had to wipe her eyes a tad as Phoenix came round to the final chorus bars.

* * *

 _**And being apart ain't easy on this love affair** _ **  
_Two strangers learn to fall in love again  
I get the joy  
Of rediscovering you_ **

* * *

**_Oh girl, you stand by me  
I'm forever yours, faithfully  
Oh, oh, oh, oh  
Faithfully, I'm still yours  
I'm forever yours  
Ever yours, faithfully_ **

* * *

She swallowed back the lump of emotion in her throat and found herself applauding, although unlike his playfully sarcastic ovation to her bathtub warbling the day before, hers was with sincerity, as completely heartfelt as Phoenix’s performance as he finished the song, blushing slightly at her effusive response.

“Merry Christmas my love,” he said softly, rising from the piano and walking up to her. She realized that he wasn’t completely shirtless after all, but instead had a black apron tied around his otherwise bare, muscled torso…and as it was up to toned _mid-thigh_ …there was naught else beneath it.

The diviner eyed him hungrily.

_Oh myyyyy…_

In spite of her emotions, she couldn’t help but giggle helplessly at the sight of what was emblazoned on the front of his apron in red and green letters: _**I’m the reason Santa has a naughty list.**_

“I know your X-mas list said you wanted to see me cooking _naked_ so you could stare at my ass…” the hobo hunk said apologetically. “And that would have been easy enough to do with the pancakes, but bacon, er, tends to _splatter_.”

He turned did a twirl then, so she could catch a tantalizing view of his firm, bare backside.

“But you still get the _majority_ of the view right?”

Maya eyed him appreciatively, in fully unabashed eye-banging mode, nodding as she and bit her lip.

It was unbelievable how she’d been satiated beyond her wildest fantasies just hours ago, yet one look at Phoenix wearing an apron and nothing at else under it was enough to send visions of doing things that would get her on Saint Nick’s _permanent bad girls list_ dancing through her head.

“Nick, why the heck do your friends think you can’t play the piano?” She asked dazedly, still in somewhat awe of her overly humble swain’s hidden talents. “Moreover, why do _you_ always insist to me that you’re this lousy pianist who only manages to _scrape b_ y on barely recognizable show tunes at the bar? _That_ …was beyond incredible – I’m still torn which performance I loved more between this one and the _last_ one!”

“You’re being too kind,” he shrugged and blushed modestly. “I guess I do OK if I put my heart and soul into the song like I’ve done both times I’ve played for you. At work… being a pianist, well…it’s the _job_ I never wanted, you know? I hate it, so I guess I’m more lackluster. Plus, I guess it helps that I’ve been practicing _this_ little ditty for a few weeks! I’m glad you liked it.”

“I _loved_ it,” the Master whispered, walking up and wrapping her arms around him. She looked up at him adoringly. “It was the most wonderful Christmas present in the world.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly, letting her taste the soft sweetness of his lips as well as the faint saltiness of bacon. It was an intoxicating blend, and when they parted, the diviner felt a surge of ravenousness surge through her that for once, had nothing to do with food.

“By the way,” the DILF grinned. “This wasn’t your Christmas gift. It was the _prelude_ to one of them – I had meant to give it to you last night after your ‘legal revelations’ mini-gift but I seemed to have ah, gotten _distracted.”_

 _“Mea culpa!”_ Maya snickered, dropping her hands from his broad shoulders and running them down to his butt, giving his bare cheeks a playful squeeze. “I guess it was all the talk about moving to Canada that made you lose track of your intentions?”

“Yeah, _that_ was it!” He smirked, laughing as she lightly smacked his cheeks then. “It definitely got my thoughts straying from the present to the future though. Oh Canada, were it to be our home and native land…first things first, we’d have to get a small apartment.”

“Not too small, it has to fit all _four_ of us,” she reminded him, playing along, snuggling into this chest. “Better yet, a loft!”

“That’s right,” his low voice answered over the top of her head.

“Then all we’d need is a bed in it,” she added. 

“And _you_ ,” his husky voice murmured. She looked up at him, dark blue eyes meeting hers, heavy-lidded, both tender and eerily sharp. His lips curled into an adorable smile, and she knew right then and there that her boyfriend loved that she’d suggested a bed, of course.

“We can even get a dog,” Maya added cheekily. “We’ll call him _Steely_.”

“And maybe a cat that we’ll name her _Princess_ ,” he chuckled. “And some artwork that may not be as pricey as the stuff in this place, but more us than all _this_ …”

Phoenix lifted one arm to point at the priceless painting on the walls of their love shack. As much as they liked the place that had been their safe haven, the reality was it wasn’t theirs, merely their sole hiding place where they could securely meet and spend as much time together as they could.

How wonderful it would be once they finally had a place to call their own.

It was almost dawn then, and though they hadn’t slept much, they both could easily have stayed there forever.

“Soooo…” Maya fluttered her eyelashes coyly at him. “As much as I’m loving this trip to _Fantasy Island_ …the reality is…” her eyes sparkled with her familiar childlike delight. “If that beautiful song still wasn’t my actual present – though believe me, it would have been enough! – then where’s my actual present _Saint Nick_?”

He grinned. No matter how old she got, she was always the same old Maya, his woman/child zany girl with enough zany enthusiasm that would put most kids to shame.

“Hmmm….” Phoenix put a finger to his chin, as if in thought. “Now where did I stash that present of yours…you rattled my brains so hard last night I seem to have forgotten where I put it…”

“Nick!” She laughed, swatting his arm.

“Oh right, here it is…” He shoved his hand into his frontal apron pocket. “There’s been something I’ve been wanting you to have . . .”

A sliver of excitement ran through her body when she realized what it was, and her eyes widened when she saw the velvet-covered jewelry case he presented it to her. She opened it and covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. It was a silver ring, with the symbol of infinity on it, lined with tiny chips of his and hers birthstones on each side of it, her April crystal, and his December blue zircon.

She gazed at him with shining eyes.

“Oh, my stars and garters, Nick…”

“You like it?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s only a silver one right now,” he said shyly. “I promise you someday when I have more money, to get you one of white gold, or any gold you like, and a bigger rock, when I’m able to get you a proper betrothal ring. In the meantime, consider this the prelude to your someday-hopefully-soon engagement ring.”

“Is this a promise ring?” She looked with delight at the delicate design, and then, when her shining eyes raised, she found him watching her with somber intensity. 

With the intensity of a man who loved her.

Just like she loved him.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reverently reaching out for it.

“Read the inscription.” Phoenix’s voice was textured with emotion, his beautiful face harsh with it as she read the words _forever yours, faithfully_ engraved on the back. There were tears in her eyes as he then slipped it onto her finger.

“What are you promising me?” She breathed, lifting her face to his.

She would never forget the love and promise in his smile as he whispered back, “Me.”

Maya’s mind was a whirlwind of joyous thoughts at this tangible proof of Nick’s love and commitment to her, to their future.

_Oh, God, I love him. I love him like a storm loves a sky and a smile needs a face. Nick is the best of me, the rock that holds me, the only one who understands me. He’s all that is left of my life that is tender and happy._

She threw herself at him and he caught her, squeezed her, and held her tighter than anyone else had ever hugged her.

“I’ll say yes and take all of you, so don’t joke about this, Nick,” she laughingly warned.

“No joke,” he promised, lifting her hand so he could admire the ring. “It looks so pretty on you.”

She squeezed his fingers with hers as her heart squeezed at the very same time.

“Someday…soon, I can’t wait to show this off to the whole world, Nick.”

 _Our lives are so imperfect. Cluttered with obstacles between him and me._

_Either it’s the elder’s disapproval looming over our heads._

_Or Nick and his still not quite yet named paranoia of unspoken danger remaining for us if we go public just yet…_

So many other previous hindrances they’d overcome, yet still, those last straggling few, threatening to destroy their every chance at happiness.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a horrible thing if they had to run off together.

She couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

Perhaps they _both_ needed to get away!

Fate would decide for them in half a year… 

He stroked her face with his long, piano-playing fingers. “Pearls and Trucy need us, which is another reason we can’t be hasty or just cut and run just yet. The next six months will fly right by, Maya, you’ll see. Whatever happens with my father, whatever the destiny decides . . . we’ll be together and we’ll manage somehow, even if it means I score a couple of piano gigs at a few local bars in another state or country.”

“Are you really willing to just pack up and leave if that’s what it takes for us to be together in the end? Are you sure you can do it?” She asked hopefully.

“Maya, I’d do anything for you.” He was deadly serious as he spoke the words, squeezing her shoulders. “I’m tired of hiding, too, you know.”

“I know.”

“I want to be with you. Out in the open. I’m sick of being your secret. I want to be your guy. I want people to know you’re mine.”

“But I am.” She lifted her hand to his line of vision again, wiggling her beautifully adorned finger. “I am yours. And our plan’s still on, whatever happens with your investigation. You and me… we’re end game, Nick.”

Phoenix smiled a slightly sad smile at the mention of the investigation, then he lifted her ringed hand and kissed it tenderly.

“Maya Fey, I’m forever yours. Faithfully.” Then pulled her against his hard, broad chest and kissed her senseless.

* * *

_A short time later…_

After the delicious breakfast that Phoenix had prepared for them, he’d insisted on not creating any more additional work for Hendricks and taking care of the clean-up all by himself, despite her protests and offers to help, insisting she go clean up and ready herself for Pearl’s arrival in the next few hours and her subsequent trip back to Kurain.

The card shark was tired as hell when he was finally finished tidying up. He never had been, nor ever would be a morning person, despite the copious cups of coffee he’d consumed when after a rapturous night of vigorous lovemaking, he’d woken up just a few hours later that morning at _sparrow's fart_ to prepare Christmas breakfast and fulfill Maya’s final item on her wish list.

Now that he’d taken care of that, he figured he’d steal a quick nap before it was time for him to meet up with Trucy downstairs.

As he dragged himself down the hall to the bedroom, he saw the light on in the master bathroom, and the tell-tale, happy sound of Maya humming “Faithfully” from the tub.

A broad smile crept over his face, along with a pleasant feeling of déjà vu as he pushed the ajar door further open.

Tired flew right out the window as Phoenix watched his sexy girlfriend playing with the bubbles in the tub. 

Playing _him_.

She was definitely in one of those turned-on, hell-on-wheels-in-bed moods, but he didn’t mind the game. Not at all. Light from those scented candles she loved so much flickered over her body in the otherwise dark bathroom. Her obsidian curls were piled high on her head in a messy knot, her cheeks flushed pink from the steam, and she had a come-hither look in her gorgeous dark eyes.

That was one invitation he wouldn’t refuse.

Maya picked up a bath pouf and started running it over her raised leg, letting the soap suds slide down to the junction of her thighs. Her breath hitched and she did it several times, pretending not to notice Phoenix leaning against the door, his arms crossed, and a sexy-as-sin smile on his face.

She dunked the pouf again, picking up more bubbles, and then squeezed it so the water and the suds cascaded over her breasts, all the while still humming the tune.

A low rumble came from his chest. “I’ve given you quite the earworm, I see.”

She turned her head and smiled lazily at him, even as her body flushed with heat. “So you have. You have too many clothes on. Get naked. There’s plenty of room for both of us in this tub.”

His grin was all-male and it chased some of the tired from his face and most of the tension from his body. She loved the way Nick looked, with his spiky dark hair and azure eyes that were now sparkling with lust.

He pushed himself away from the door and started a very personal strip show. She swallowed hard as he slowly untied the strings of the apron behind his neck, torturously, exposing a broad, muscled chest.

She scooped up some bubbles and painted them on her body, drawing one finger through the froth, circling the tip of each aching breast, pinching the already hard nipples.

“Oh God, _yes_ ,” she breathed, groaning aloud as she became more aroused.

“You’re a goddess,” he replied thickly, reaching behind him to lock the door. He never took his eyes off her, which was incredibly sexy. “I like what you’re doing with those bubbles, but save that job for _me_.”

Working quickly, he removed the apron ties and slid it down his taut physique with his strong, sure fingers.

Fingers Maya wanted on her body, _in_ her body… She shivered and feasted her eyes on her boyfriend’s body, letting him feel the weight of her yearning as she visually caressed the bulge of his arousal.

“You keep looking at me like that…” His voice rough with desire. “And things are going to be over before they even start.”

“You’re still wearing too much,” she noted softly. Even though she loved the way her beau looked right now, clad only in a pair of skin-tight black boxer briefs that he’d donned on after breakfast, which left nothing to the imagination, naked would be _so_ much better.

“Workin’ on it.” He skimmed his briefs down his body, giving her a quick flash of his incredibly sexy ass.

He stalked over to the tub and crouched next to it, dipping his hand into the water, circling the tip of her breast, catching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned forward and kissed her, and at the same time, he pinched her nipple gently. She gasped and he slid his tongue in her mouth, feasting on the taste that was uniquely his Maya’s. 

He kissed her again. “Scoot up.”

When she did, he slid into the tub behind her. He leaned back against the tub’s high walls with a heartfelt groan. The hot water felt great. He slipped his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest. That felt even better—her ass was pressed right against his aching erection. He nipped at her shoulder and cupped her full breasts, reveling in the weight of them, slowly rubbing his thumbs over her hardened peaks. Her head dropped back against his shoulder and she clutched at his arms.

“Want me to stop?” he murmured in her ear.

“I’ll _kill_ you if you do.” The breathy sound of the words only further fueled his arousal.

“Hmm. What if I do _this_ instead?” He kept one hand working at her breasts then slid the other lower, skimming gently over her stomach to smooth Venus mound, using one fingertip to nudge her clit before sliding that finger deep inside her body. She was so wet and swollen he knew it wouldn’t take long for her to come. He kept up a gentle pace, loving how it made her writhe, which rubbed her body back and forth against his rigid, straining manhood.

The warmth of the water, the heat, and movement of Maya’s body, the potent scent of the candles in the air – all of it put him on the razor’s edge of climax. When she finally went over the edge, he fought against his need to do the same. He cupped her head and pulled her into a deep kiss, covering her mouth with his, swallowing the sounds of her release, a long, sensual orgasm that left her limp against his body, sated, at least for now.

Phoenix, on the other hand, was nowhere near done. His heart galloped, his breathing ragged as he held his vixen close while she slowly came back to earth.

She kissed the back of his hand and then turned all the way around and settled between his thighs, facing him on her knees. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub, and small waves rippled in the water's depth, caressing him intimately in the very manner he yearned for Maya to do. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to go over, not yet.

“Hi there.” She leaned up to kiss him, coming half out of the water like a mermaid from the sea. Her long waves, now curly from the water, had fallen out of its knot and now trailed over her shoulders, tumbling down her back and past her buttocks.

He wrapped a finger in one of her damp raven locks and tugged lightly. “Hi yourself. This is a nice surprise.”

She tilted her head and reached out, splaying her hand across his chest.

“For both of us. I thought you were going to take a nap.”

“Really? You were already pretty wet when I got here. Playing without me?” he teased, intrigued by the thought. Damned if it didn’t send a lightning bolt of lust straight to his shaft. “It doesn’t matter, either way, my love.” He ran his knuckles gently down Maya’s cheek. “I’m just glad the sight of your glorious naked, wet form jolted me awake so I got to spend some quality time with my gorgeous girlfriend.”

Now the spirit medium had her hands on his thighs. She slid them forward until her fingers nestled in the crook of his legs, close to his erection and balls – yet she didn’t touch them. And oh, how Phoenix wanted that. His muscles bunched and flexed as she rubbed her thumbs closer and closer. 

“My love, you’re _killing_ me here.” He shut his lids and dropped his head back against the edge of the tub. “Touch me. _Please.”_

“Touch you how?” Maya’s softly uttered, velvety words were uncharacteristically bold. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His eyes flew open, and in the dim light, he saw raw desire on his girlfriend’s face. Damned if that didn’t turn him on too. Whatever had come over Maya this holiday season, it definitely added a spark to their sex life. He liked it. _A lot._

He kept his gaze locked on hers as his heart threatened to gallop out of his chest. He had to clear his throat twice to get his voice to work.

“Get your hand all soapy, and wrap it around me. I want to feel your fingers on me, stroking me, touching my boys.”

Her eyes lit up. “Like _this?”_

Steam rose around them, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the water or from the heat they generated together. Her slick, soapy hand stroked tightly up and down his erection, and she slid her thumb over the head each time she reached the tip. Her fingers cupping his balls were gentle, caressing that sensitive spot underneath them. She scraped there with her fingernail, and his body jerked in response.

It felt like hell, and it felt like heaven.

“Stop,” he groaned. “Or I’m going to come from this any second.”

She didn’t listen.

As she worked him with her tight fist, she slid her other hand under his family jewels, pressing against the tight hole there, sparking the nerve endings to life. She’d never done that to him before, but damn, it felt good. He wanted her to do it again. Later, when he had more control over his body. His balls drew up, and he knew he was going to lose it, right there, without being inside her, if he didn’t do something fast. And he didn’t want to come alone.

Phoenix tugged Maya up his torso, draping her legs on either side of this, and urged her down onto his pulsing hardness. As good as her warm, soapy hand had felt, it was nothing like the wet tightness of being enveloped within her inviting warmth. He held her hips steady, thrusting up until he was fully buried to the hilt inside of her

_“Nick,”_ she cried out as he pressed deep, closing her eyes and biting her lip.

“Ride me.” He didn’t care how needy he sounded. He could feel the ripples inside her body, urging him toward release. He slid his hands into her hair, pulling her down for a kiss as she rocked back and forth on his body, her movements drawing him closer and closer to the fire.

Her loud climax came first, and he tightened his hands in her hair, deepening the kiss, swallowing the ragged sound the necromancer made as her orgasm flashed over. She shredded his restraint, and he followed her almost immediately, holding her close as wave after wave of pleasure overtook him.

They lay together in the tub, breathing heavily, and he stroked a hand up and down her smooth back. He didn’t know how long they lay there like that, entwined, his satiated rod gripped firmly within her still clenching body.

The Master was beyond content to stay connected to him, to rest in their intimate embrace. No moment in her life had prepared her for this utter sense of completion. Every sad thought, every bad memory…everything melted away. It was just them. Nick and Maya. The rest of the world was all an illusion.

“A husband could get used to coming home to this every night,” he murmured in her ear, and he felt her smile against his neck.

“So could a wife,” she purred with a satisfied sigh.

Phoenix curled up behind her, his warm, sated body spooning hers, his lips against her hair, whispering words of unconditional love.

He wanted never to be away from her. She had the spark of life.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journey - Faithfully


	67. Miles Away On New Year’s Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so excited about this chapter when you see who the characters interacting all are! I hope you enjoy it! As always guys, thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Technology is sometimes the only way to be together, but it sure can make your day when you get that call and see them, bringing you that familiar love and comfort…as though they were right there by your side."

_**Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma**_  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
January 2, 2025, 8:00 AM

While relations between Miles and Franziska had been strained, yet civil, throughout the holidays, up until the first week of January, they at least had had Annalise and Katharina as houseguests to provide a sort of buffer. The vivacious blondes had greatly filled in the uncomfortable gaps of silence and pained glances between the couple with their cheery conversation and laughter, and he dreaded the day they would leave, as having them afoot turned that gloomy house into an actual home.

But alas, much like most things in life, all good things had to come to an end, and Miles was distressed to bid his future sister-in-law and niece adieu at the train station for their trip back home to Switzerland. Anneliese had hastily kissed him goodbye on the cheek then scurried off ahead with their baggage, Phoenix happily trailing by her side. Katharina placed her slender fingers on the door handle, but then, at the last minute, leaned over to brush her lips against his cheek before stepping out of the car, her grey eyes, so like her sister's, baring a sympathetic, knowing look in their depths.

"Take good care of my baby sister, _Brüderchen_ ," she whispered. "I know not the intricate details of what troubles stir betwixt you two, which neither of you is skilled enough thespians to conceal from me, just as much as I know you shan't reveal them to me any more than she would have, had I been foolish enough to ask. Franziska can be just as stubborn and close-mouthed as you can be, but you two are alike in so many other ways, that I know your love will see you through in the end. You're perfect for one another. I pray you can remedy this rift between you in good time."

Miles looked into her kind, loving face and swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at her saddened gaze, which he knew mirrored his own.

Of _course_ , despite her diplomatic silence on the matter during the duration of her stay, Katharina was still painfully aware something was amiss with them; how could you hide the fact that they slept in separate chambers, even in a manor as large as theirs? While it had been easy enough to dupe Anneliese with the lame excuse that his snores disrupted his fiancée's slumber, and it wasn't good to have Franziska lose sleep this close to her due date, surely a _family psychologist_ was harder to fool!

"I will do everything in my power to make those prayers come true, _Schwester_ ," he whispered back, dropping his eyes guiltily.

"Just remember two things, always. One, my sister has loved you since she was a young girl and still does, despite what she may say or do to the contrary. And two, she suffers from that obstinate Von Karma pride, which she, unfortunately, inherited from our father. But underneath it all, the good heart of our mother also beats within her, and as sure as I am of my own name, know that it will only beat for you until her last breath."

"I love her, too," Miles looked at her helplessly. "You _have_ to know that."

"I _do_ know that. This is why these past few weeks, seeing the two of you act like polite strangers towards one another, these silences, they've nearly broken my heart." Katharina sighed, then gave him a maternal pat on the cheek. "But I know you're a good man, and that things will work themselves in due time. I am only a phone call and train ride away if you need me, either of you," she reminded him. "I hope the next time I see you both, you will be the happy family of three that you deserve to be. Much love."

Miles nodded mutely and forced a smile for her benefit as he drove away, the older woman's words echoing in his mind as he headed back home, all the while contemplating just how he could possibly go about fulfilling the promise he'd made. He hoped with all his heart Katharina knew of what she spoke. He needed to believe that more than anything in the world.

Franziska had opted to stay home instead of accompanying him on the ride over and had still been resting when they'd left the house. At 7 months along now, she was constantly exhausted, and he could tell she was uncomfortable being on her feet for more than a few moments at a time, due to her aching back and swollen body, which put her often in a state of discomfiture.

Even though Miles knew Franziska would never admit it, it was a blessing in disguise that their sting operation was on hiatus. He honestly didn't think, in her current, chronic state of discomfort and pain (which she wasn't _quite_ skilled at hiding), that his fiancée was in _any_ condition to resume work once Ku came back to Europe. He fervently hoped she would have already had the baby by the time the drug lord returned. Things were undoubtedly going to take an even more risky turn if the kingpin was going to be true to his word and lead them to the contact for the big cheese – the Borginian cocoons.

The logic genius had no desire for his fiancée and his baby daughter to get caught in any dangerous crossfire.

The month before, the couple had found out they were expecting a little girl, whom they'd decided to name _Carol Wilhelmine_ , after Miles' and Franziska's late mothers. The prosecutor had been relieved she hadn't been too insistent on making her mother's given name be the baby's as well, and had hesitantly suggested they refer to the child as the slightly softer-sounding "Minna" should that have been the future mama's true heart's desire. However, she'd just offhandedly shrugged and said that fair was fair after all, and when he'd protested, she'd coolly reminded him that ' _the last one had been named after her father after all_ ,' then just as nonchalantly informed him that due to circumstances beyond her control, she'd become privy to the baby's gender.

Apparently, that afternoon he'd gone to the gentleman's club in December, Franziska had gone with her sister to her last appointment at the general practitioner's before he went on holidays, and the excited 'foolish fool of a receptionist' had blurted out the news, thinking they'd already known!

Luckily Katharina had been there to restrain her fuming younger sibling from unleashing her wrath – and her whip! – upon the poor, clueless young woman who'd unwittingly ruined the surprise.

When Miles returned to the house, he found Franziska on the computer in the library, scrolling through a site of natural remedies for prenatal bloating and swelling. She quickly minimized the window when she saw him enter.

"You're back," she said stiffly, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she saw him enter.

"I am," he replied, arching a brow and crossing his arms. "I had no inkling that you were a believer in the homeopathic ways of healing, Franziska. I thought you'd always dismissed that sort of thing as 'foolish nonsense' and preferred the western medical route as a trusted science."

Franziska averted her gaze from his. "Well…Maya had Skyped me to wish me Happy New Year a few moments ago, and you know how that village of hers preaches the ancient, natural ways of the land over traditional medicine..." Miles nodded, and her blush deepened. "So she was mentioning how I can treat some of my less than pleasant persistent...ill-health symptoms with things such as Cyprus or lavender oil, which can be helpful. As can, ahem, _allium sativum_ …"

Miles didn't need to inquire which ailment would require the use of garlic; he already knew. Hence, he wisely didn't mention that along looking up relief for edema, he'd also noticed Franziska had had an open window detailing relieving suggestions for thrush in the nether regions, presumably to help ease … _womanly itching._

"And how is Miss Fey doing?" He asked. "I hope she and Wright got their Christmas presents sent to them in time."

"Maya appears to still be online." The German woman gestured to the Skype window. "I was just messaging her a few moments ago. She and Phoenix are over at our place right now, if you want to wish them Happy New Year. It's still the first of the month over in California right now."

Miles felt a slight smile tugging at his lips. While he'd emailed and called his best friend many times over the years, and had the sporadic written correspondence with the Gumshoes and Maya as well, he hadn't _set eyes_ on _any_ of them in six years and was suddenly bursting with a desire to do so. He would blame the sentiment of the holiday season still being within him for his uncharacteristic reaction.

How _else_ to explain the barely concealed delight spreading within him as Franziska set up the video call feature, as he waited with excited anticipation for his friends to pick up on the other end?

* * *

_**Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma/ Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany/Edgeworth's Penthouse, Los Angeles_  
January 2, 2025/January 1, 2025

Maya was obviously on her laptop, seated on the couch. Miles and Franziska could clearly make out their still holiday-decorated living room in the background. A sleepy-looking Phoenix was only partially visible as he appeared to be resting his head on Maya's shoulder. Miles could only make out his friend's forehead and spikes at this particular angle of the camera.

"Holy cow! I can't believe we're _finally_ getting to see you guys!" The Kurain Master chirped happily, her eyes sparkling at the sight of her friends after so long. "Happy New Year!"

The spirit medium's customary bubbly expression faded slightly as she then turned to look at her dozing boyfriend. She poked the top of his skull with her finger, as though trying to push his head off of her.

"Hey! Old Man, wake up! You'll _never guess_ who's on cam right now!"

Phoenix emitted a loud snore in response, much to the couple's amusement and Maya's visible annoyance.

"Happy New Year, Miss Fey," Miles gave a mock-bow, noting that even with her face scrubbed free of makeup, and her hair pulled up in a messy semi-topknot, his friend was the same fresh-faced, ageless beauty she'd been when he'd seen her last, even though she now had to be in her late 20's.

"Happy New Year, Maya," Franziska smiled graciously, then raised a sardonic brow. "It is early morning here in Germany, on January 2nd... how late it is over there now, seeing as your ah, _lively_ _companion_ seems to be in want of his bed?"

"It's only 11:00 at night right now," the Master told them. "So it's still the first day of the year for us! We were just watching my favorite TV series when you called me, Franziska. This dork here was _pretending_ to be awake watching _The Pink Princess/Steel Samurai_ DVD series I got him for Christmas when he's _been asleep_ the whole time, the ungrateful bum!"

She glared at her lover and then shifted abruptly so that his slumbering form slumped then fell over to the side…and off the screen.

" _Take that,_ you big bluffer!"

Miles and Franziska snorted as they heard a heavy thud on the floor, followed by an irate cry of: "Whaaa?! Dammit, Maya! What the hell!" From the rudely awakened Phoenix.

" _That's_ what you get for falling asleep watching the Christmas gift I _so lovingly_ gave you, Buster! How are you ever going to do those reports you promised me when you're not even awake to see the episodes!" The diviner snapped unapologetically. "Besides, Nick… _yeesh!_ What are you, like, _a 100?!_ How can you be falling asleep when it's only _11:00!?"_

There was a shuffling sound as the hobo struggled to get up off the carpet. Miles and Franziska could hear the spiky-haired man, but still not yet see him as he grumbled.

"Maybe because before turning on this ridiculously boring drivel _,_ _a certain_ _someone_ completely wore me out earlier _all_ afternoon and evening with her repeated voracious need to –"

"Oh, my gucking fod!" Maya clapped a hand over her mouth and turned bright red. "Shut _up_ already, Nick!"

"Why? What's with the innocent denial act, all of a sudden, Little Miss Insatiable? It wasn't even an hour ago that _you_ jumped _me_ – right here on this very sofa…"

"Phoenix Wright, you _foolish fool_!" Franziska lifted a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles and affected the normal stern tone she'd reserved for him in the past. "I will thank you to cease wagging your tongue and to _not_ to finish that _unseemly, oversharing sentence_ within my presence, lest the thought of it arise this morning's breakfast within me!"

"Yes, I beg you, _please_ spare us the recapped gory details of the exertion which caused your state of exhaustion, Wright," Miles added, a wry smile on his face as he saw Phoenix's spikes first emerge on the camera, and next, his forehead … and then one wide, stunned eyeball, followed by the other.

" _Franziska_?" The anterior lawyer gasped, his cheeks flaming as he flopped back onto the couch next to Maya. " _Edgeworth_? What the? How? When…?"

"And a Happy New Year to you too, Wright," the cravat-wearer smirked. While his voice held its typical wry tone, he was biting back a huge ear-to-ear grin at the sight of his best friend. Phoenix was now fully alert, staring back at the screen, his eyes wide with surprise, embarrassment, and completely unconcealed happiness at seeing Miles after all this time.

"H –Happy New Year, Edgeworth and Franziska!" A genuine beam of pleasure crossed the DILF's face, lighting it up as he took in the sight of the two at last. "Long time, no see!"

"Well, if you'd just learned how to use Skype instead of always making _Larry_ be the one to set up that webcam for you all those times past, you could have been video-chatting with your best friend _ages_ ago, Nick!" Maya scolded playfully, rumpling her boyfriend's spikes. "Why must you insist on remaining on Amish levels of technical knowledge, you olf fart?!"

"Give me a break, Maya, you _know_ how I'm not a techie guy! Hell, I don't even know how to change the ringtone on my Dumb Phone!" Phoenix groused, grabbing her hand to cease the tousling and smoothing his hair back into place. "To this very day, it plays the _Steel Samurai_ theme whenever I get a call!"

"Yup!" Maya stuck out her tongue at him. "And I'm not about to change it, either!"

"I see some things _never_ change and that you're still your technologically clueless self, Wright," Miles' cadence was smug. "Although I see you're at last free of that atrocious beanie! Miss Fey, did you take my advice and finally kill it with fire?"

"Nope, he's still got it," Maya tittered, ignoring the indignant look her boyfriend shot her. "He just doesn't wear it here when we're together because he _knows_ I hate that blasted thing!"

"Humph! I _have_ gotten wiser over the years, I'll have you all know! Therefore, I'm fully aware of the way your mind works, Maya!" Phoenix informed his girlfriend wryly, before turning his head to speak into the camera, the happy grin on his face belying his words entirely. "No doubt if I bring it here, she _will_ make off with it in my sleep, Edgeworth, and undoubtedly burn it as you've _repeatedly_ directed her to, _posthaste_! Luckily she's not been able to take that advice of yours, and disregarded your _equally hilarious_ suggestion to gift me with piano lessons for Christmas!"

"I apologize if I offended your artistic sensibilities, Wright!" Miles laughed. "It seemed like a good idea, based on my memories of your pianist skills!"

"That coincides with _my_ recollections as well, at his impromptu debut performance that night," Franziska chimed in, smirking. "I also seem to recall he was a better singer than a pianist."

"And we are back to the whole gang up and make fun of Phoenix routine!" The pianist quipped, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I guess some things truly never do change!"

"Oh, Nick's a great singer! And really, his playing isn't that bad anymore at all!" Maya defended loyally, turning her head to press a kiss on Phoenix's temple. "It's certainly evolved to the point where it was convincingly moving enough to make me accept his Christmas present." She beamed as she waved her promise ring at the camera. "Isn't it pretty?"

"I am suitably impressed," Miles admitted. "It's very exquisite indeed. It appears your boyfriend has better taste in jewelry than his _own_ accessories, at any rate."

"You're _hilarious_ , Edgeworth, you know that?" Phoenix scowled at his best friend. "A real pip!"

"Cut it out, you two, you're not in court right now!" Maya admonished. "Have _neither_ of you evolved past this senseless bickering you seem to regress to whenever you're together?"

" _He_ started it!" The poker champ cried petulantly.

"Wright, what are you, a _five-year-old?!"_ Miles exclaimed with a chuckle. "It's amusing how you've regressed to our elementary school days of maturity over the years!"

"So, are the two of you officially betrothed now?" Franziska broke in, anxious to cease the childlike bickering the two men seemed to forever favor. "Are congratulations in order here?"

"It's only a promise ring for now," the card shark said quickly. "But I'm going to give her the real thing soon enough…thanks to my investigations and some leads I've gotten from you guys, I'm on the path to clearing my name and hopefully, regaining my badge!"

"Let's hope that day comes soon, Phoenix Wright!" Franziska flashed a wicked grin. "I sorely miss sparring with you in the courtroom."

"And I thank _you_ , Franziska, for at least being _one_ of the _two_ of you to contain _said spars_ to the courtroom," Phoenix quipped, before looking back at Miles. "Anyway, I'm liking the Iron Man hairdo, Edgeworth. I see _you_ followed _my_ advice on cribbing the Tony Stark look."

"That facial hair is truly something!" Maya noted. "It makes you look mega sharp, Mr. Edgeworth."

"If by _sharp_ , she means that you perfectly look like a _greasy billionaire playboy_ ," Phoenix derided. "I'm going to have to agree with her!"

"Thank you both. That was _just the look_ I was going for!" Miles stroked his soul-patch. "I also wanted to ask if you two received your Christmas presents in time, and found them to be satisfactory."

" _Satisfactory?_ Are you kidding, Mr. Edgeworth? We _loved_ our gifts!" Maya enthused. "I'd wish we could have sent you guys something more than just the treat basket to your Germany residence, but we never knew where in the world you two were and didn't want to risk sending anything perishable…but you better _believe_ Nick loves his new Corinthian Series Luxury Ebony Chess Pieces chess set!"

"Well, chess _is_ probably more _stimulating_ than the DVD set we were watching … Maya, I'm only kidding!" Phoenix ducked as his girlfriend hit him over the head with a sofa pillow. He grinned mischievously at the camera. "What I _should_ have done was down a few cups of that awesome Brazilian roast that was sent to me anonymously for Christmas …"

Miles smirked. He had a pretty good idea about the identity of the mysterious Arabica-bean gifter. Not at all coincidentally, _a_ _certain_ _coffee-connoisseur_ , whose early prison release Phoenix had requested years ago, had been recently paroled. It seemed his friend had forgotten the appeal had been the _penultimate_ motion he'd put into play before losing his badge, which over the years, _amongst other things_ , Miles had discreetly ensured came to fruition on his best friend's behalf. But now was not the time to remind him.

His best friend was still jabbering about the chess set.

"…no doubt that java will come in handy for keeping me alert in finally learning how to play that beloved game of yours…" Phoenix went on, smirking. "So when you come back, we can have the match of the century, Edgeworth!"

" _Bring it_ , Wright!" Miles replied, his face hurting from suppressing the enormous smile that only bantering with his best friend could evoke from him. "And Miss Fey, I hope you know what you have now is a _limited edition, original film print_ from the actual reel of the _Steel Samurai/Pink Princess_ / _Bronze Baby_ movie. _Ergo_ …" he gave her a meaningful look. "I imagine this will cease your desire to want to 'borrow' the _Steel Samurai_ movie print of _mine_ , henceforth?"

The diviner at least had the decency to blush as she realized the big-mouthed Hendricks had blabbed about her sticky finger attempts.

"Um, yeah," she mumbled. "Thanks so much for that, Mr. Edgeworth!"

All of a sudden, Phoenix and Maya heard a bark in the background. The next thing they knew, a beautiful golden retriever emerged on screen, pawing at first her daddy's, then mommy's laps, startling Franziska as Miles quickly grabbed the dog's collar.

"Pess! You are sopping wet! Down girl!" The silver-haired _Frau_ shot out of her seat…affording the other couple their first view of her protruding abdomen. "Hans!" She called, turning her head away from the camera as she walked a few steps away, hands to her mouth like a megaphone. "Helga! Dry her paws _immediately!_ She is trailing the wet snow into the house!"

Phoenix and Maya were gobsmacked at the sight of the formerly svelte woman's expanded waistline – they'd had no inkling that Franziska was pregnant! The psychic had simply assumed the former prosecutor's slightly rounder cheeks had been from indulging in too much holiday food consumption – although, unlike her daft boyfriend, she certainly wasn't idiotic enough to actually voice these thoughts _out loud…_

"Um, are those packed on pounds of hers, er, cause for congratulations on our behalf, Edgy?" The former defense attorney asked awkwardly before his lover could shush him. "Or should we play just dumb?"

" _Play?_ You could _manage the team_ , Phoenix Wright, you foolish fool!" Franziska barked, returning to the camera and putting her hands on her hips. "Do you mean to tell me your foolish self can't the difference between when a woman has _gained weight_ or is _with child?!"_

" _S- Sorry!"_ Phoenix flushed deeply and scratched the back of his neck, grateful he wouldn't be able to feel the crack of her whip over the connection. "Maya always said you are never to ask a woman if she's pregnant unless you see a baby's crowning head coming out of her…"

"Jeez, Nick, of all the times of you to finally start listening to me, _that's_ where you decided to start?" Maya demanded crossly. _"Thanks a lot!"_

" _Enough_ you two!" Miles was exasperated. "I can't _believe_ the _two of you_ haven't outgrown _your_ senseless squabbling! Wright, you bloody imbecile! Yes, Franziska is _pregnant_ , not fat! And before you put your foot in your mouth again, she's due in _two months_ , with our baby girl, Carol."

_Mr. Edgeworth's parents were named_ _ **Greg and Carol?**_ Maya smothered back a giggle. _If they were having a boy, would they have named him_ _ **Brady**_ _…?_

" _Really?"_ Phoenix seemed skeptical. He scratched his head. "She's only seven months then? I'd have thought she was further along…"

" _Congratulations_ , both of you!" Maya trilled, elbowing her boyfriend sharply in the side to shut him up. Ignoring his grunt, she clasped her hands in delight and beamed. "This is _wonderful_ news! Franziska, please ignore my perma-foot-in-mouth boyfriend…you look absolutely beautiful and _radiant_! Please, contact us when your little one is born so we know where to send a newborn basket!"

The four chatted a little bit longer, before finally signing off, with the last words they heard being Maya chastising Phoenix on being such a _"clueless, insensitive jerk-face!"_

Both Miles and Franziska were still chuckling as they rang off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This week, the AA holiday season wraps up but there's still one more mini-reunion looming over the horizon!


	68. Unanticipated Hiccoughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Changes and new interests, characterize the time periods ahead of us unknowingly."

_**Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma/ Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Gumshoe**_  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany/Gumshoe Penthouse, Los Angeles_  
January 2, 2025/January 1, 2025

It was the first time in what seemed like forever that something nice had happened between them.

Miles was still grinning broadly as Franziska was still snickering slightly for a few good moments after the call with their friends ended. They both smiled at one another, and a lovely feeling of uncustomary warmth was exchanged between the two.

The fun, light-hearted chat with Phoenix and Maya had been just what the doctor ordered. Miles couldn't recall the last time either he or his fiancée had had a much-needed bout of laughter such as this, never mind in one another's presence, together like this.

Franziska was the first to break the spell, as she suddenly jolted forward with a look of discomfort on her face and clutched her abdomen. Miles reflexively reached out his hand, wanting to convey his concern and offer some sort of comfort, but she shook her head and leaned back in her chair, taking short, labored breaths as she slumped back on the chair and rubbed her belly, both of them falling silent as they stared at the now inactive computer screen, then one another, then both looked away.

The festive holiday game of catch-up had been wonderfully unexpected but was over all too quick for his liking. Now that it was over, neither of them were sure what to say or do. But Miles was loathing to lose the merry spirits their friends had left them with just yet, and desperately wished to hold on this moment of unprecedented joy just a little bit longer.

"I see that Gumshoe's online too," he noted hopefully, looking at the time on the computer. "I suppose since we already gave New Year's salutations to Wright and Miss Fey that it would only be prudent to do the same for them. Perhaps we should give them a quick video call as well, to wish them Happy New Year...it's still the first of the month in California for another half hour."

Franziska nodded, blowing out slowly through her mouth as she rubbed her temple with one hand and her belly with the other, looking grateful for the suggestion.

"Yes, we may as well divulge our big news to them, since the cats out of the bag and Phoenix and Maya know already…word travels fast."

"Indeed, considering they are all in the same building at the moment, with only 23 floors separating them…?"

Miles pulled up a chair next to his fiancée, both of them waiting expectantly for the call on the other end to be answered. A moment later, their ex-subordinate answered, his broad frame filling the entire video monitor, only slightly bigger than the ear-to-ear grin on his face at the sight of his past employers.

"Mr. Edgeworth! Sir! This is a most pleasant surprise! Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year to you too, Gumshoe," Franziska and Miles chorused, just as the former detective turned his head from the screen and hollered over his shoulder. "Maggey! Honey, get over here! You'll never _believe_ who is on Skype right now!"

" _Must_ you be so loud, Dick?" The brunette exclaimed, coming over to the computer and frowning at her husband. "It's almost midnight – you'll wake up Gordy!" Then she turned her head to the camera, and look of stunned delight flickered on her face as her hands flew to her mouth. "My goodness, this _is_ a pleasant surprise! Happy New Year, you guys!"

"Happy New Year, Maggey," the couple replied warmly.

"I'm sorry our son is in bed already, so he can't thank you directly, but I wanted to let you know that Gordy _loved_ the robot model kit you sent him for Christmas! Thank you so much," the former policewoman gushed, her eyes glowing. "And Dick and I are so excited about the golfing lessons you signed us up for at our Country Club."

The prosecutor crossed his arms and smirked.

"I figure between Wright mastering his chess game while I'm away on his new board and you two picking up some putting pointers from the pros, I shall ensure I have worthy oppositions for my two favorite games for when I return to the States!"

"How are things in Europe?" The big lug asked. "Or is it Asia? I can never keep track of your whereabouts, Sir! Although I suppose that's the whole point of being a top-secret undercover Interpol agent, right?"

"We're home in Germany for the holidays, and all is quite well," Miles replied. "How are you enjoying your retirement? Have you been keeping him out of trouble, Maggey?"

"Well, about my retirement…" Gumshoe smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. "I sort of have some big news to tell the two of you in that regard…let's just say I'm not sure how much free time I'm going to have on the greens nowadays because as of next week…I'm back on the police force!"

There was a moment of stillness as the other couple's news sunk in that a man who had achieved wealth beyond his wildest dreams was forgoing his luxe life of financial freedom to return to a lifestyle and salary that had barely afforded him instant noodles.

Franziska's eyes were wide with shock, while her fiancé was rendered speechless.

_Egad!_ Miles thought in disbelief _. Just when I was starting to sleep better at nights knowing the world's most bumbling flat foot was no longer on-street duty trying to 'protect and serve'… he goes and does_ _ **this?!**_

"This is…most… _unexpected_!" Franziska finally exclaimed, breaking the silence. "Does this mean you're going back to being our favorite Scruffy Detective then?"

Miles tried to speak lightly. "And will this mean, upon my arrival back in Los Angeles, that I will once again have a certain scruffy assistant of mine as my right-hand man again?"

Gumshoe chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Edgeworth and Sir, but your days of cracking that whip over me and cutting my salary are long gone! I'm not going back to the force as a homicide detective this time – I'm the precinct's newly appointed Chief of Police!"

"Mostly a desk job," Maggey added with a smile. "So I needn't worry about him out there risking his life and limb apprehending criminals and thugs and can sleep at night!"

_I know_ _ **I**_ _will resume sleeping better with this additional knowledge,_ Miles added silently to himself.

"Well, congratulations to you indeed." Franziska smiled, even as she tried to stifle a pained wince as she rubbed her lower back. "While we're on the topic of news to be shared, we have some of our own as well."

"Pess unwittingly outed us to Wright and Miss Fey when we were Skyping them earlier," Miles informed them dryly. "So you may as well hear it from us than through the grapevine. Franziska and I are expecting."

"Congratulations!" Boomed Gumshoe, disregarding his wife's earlier plea to keep his volume down due to their sleeping son. "I'm so happy for you both!"

"This is so wonderful! Congratulations indeed!" Maggey clasped her hands to her chest with glee. "I wish I could be there to rub your belly, Sir! Stand up, let us have our first look at the future baby Edgeworth!"

Franziska gave a strained smile and with one hand clutching her back and the other bracing herself against the computer desk, hesitantly got up from her seat and protectively placed a hand on her extended belly.

"We're giving a girl," she told the Gumshoes. "In two months."

"Just _one_ girl?" Gumshoe was startled. "Gee, Sir, I thought you were having twins! Or were ready to pop any day now, from the looks of you!"

_Gumshoe, you uncouth swine!_ Miles fumed to inwardly while bracing himself for impact as his fiancée's eyes narrowed into slits. The glare she shot at the big man on the screen was so lethal if looks could kill, their anterior underling would have been deemed _worm chow._

" _Eep!"_ Gumshoe squeaked in terror, as though forgetting her whip couldn't strike him through the screen.

"You dim-witted fool!" Franziska exploded and sat back down quickly, crossing her arms across her chest and hunching forward, as though trying to obstruct her belly from view. "Have you been talking to the _other_ foolish fool, Phoenix Wright just before we called you? He _also_ made a similar, foolish assumption! Either that or this is a sign you've been spending too much time in each other's foolish presences!"

"Dick, what in the name of Christ is wrong with you, you mealy-mouthed nitwit?" Maggey demanded, putting her hands on her hips and scowling at her husband. "How could you even say such a thing?! She's not _that_ big! Don't you remember how big _I_ was when I was pregnant with Gordy?"

"S –Sorry honey, but that was _different_! Gordy was born a bigger than average infant … he was 11 pounds at birth and you needed a C-section for him!"

"The point is that I was still the size of a house when I was playing host to _your_ Bullwinkle-headed baby which I am still thanking the man upstairs I didn't have to wind up pushing out of my hoo-ha, as it never would have recovered!" Maggey scolded. "You don't know how big a baby she's carrying or anything so you shouldn't say such foolish things!"

"B – but, Gordy was a big baby because _I'm_ a big guy!" Gumshoe protested, seeming to forget Miles and Franziska were still present. "Neither Sir nor Mr. Edgeworth is very large, so of course I was wondering why she looked so big and swollen up like a water balloon already!"

Miles cleared his throat.

"Is it possible to change subjects from the topic of my fiancée's prenatal measurements?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth," Gumshoe looked shame-faced as he hung his head, then looked up guiltily at the still-fuming Franziska. "Apologies, Sir. I wasn't trying to be rude. As a cop on the force, I've seen and dealt with my share of expecting mothers. Even helped deliver a couple in emergencies. I was just – worried, that's all."

"I sure hope you work on your communication skills before you go back on the force, Dick," Maggey muttered before either of the other two could reply. Then she smiled brightly. "However, if you don't mind us asking, have you guys signed up for any Lamaze or parenting classes of the sort? They're both great bonding experiences for the couples to do together and have the daddy feel more involved, especially the former!"

_I would have been very open to taking the Lamaze classes_ , Miles lamented. _But bonding with me hasn't exactly been high on Franziska's priority list!_

"Of course not!" The German scoffed. "This baby is half Von Karma after all, and will, therefore, be perfect, with no need to have some self-proclaimed birth experts with no medical certifications share their foolish drivel about how to make this baby life better with their conjectures. Nor am I in need of any foolish advice about how to make our daughter's entrance into the world less painful. As a woman, I have accepted it is my lot in life to bear the discomfort of childbirth, and I have no fear of such. I am fully prepared to handle the pain with the strength and grit of my mother and all my ancestors before me – completely naturally with no need for any sort of aid."

"You mean you're not going to take the drugs, Sir?" Maggey was amazed. "I was fully doped up before they realized I'd need a Caesarian…which _definitely_ made it more bearable for me, but you're obviously made from stronger stock than I am. Hell, you survived a gunshot, after all!"

"Hey, since you aren't taking parental classes like we did, we can at least give you some first-hand parenting tips for when your little one arrives," Gumshoe offered, completely unfazed by Franziska's previous rant. "Number one, Mr. Edgeworth, I suggest you get a good burping towel to cover whatever it is you wear and reconsider wearing your nice pink suits around the baby for the first little while…"

Before the irate chess lover could object for the umpteenth time that his suit was _not pink, it was magenta_ , his friend was already moving onto the topic of his cravat.

"Also, you may want to get rid of that fluttery napkin thingie you wear, because assuming the baby doesn't grab your frills and nearly choke you in the process, it will at least wind up using it as their bib and will ensure it won't stay that spotless white for long!"

"He's right, you know. Nothing _white_ around a newborn," Maggey grimaced. "It's like the little bugger _knows_. And then takes _aim_ …"

Miles was astonished. He hadn't given thought to his choice of attire around the baby at all. "If I am not wearing my customary attire once I'm a new father, what would you suggest then?"

"Well, for the longest time, I had a special 'baby spit-up' trench coat," Gumshoe informed them. "It was my own go-to, protective grownup raincoat/bib for handling _whatever liquid or solid_ that came out of that little guy! One second…" he walked away from the computer for a moment and then returned with his old, familiar battered green trench which had seen better days.

Miles was used to seeing the normal tears and stains on it, but as his friend held it up to the camera, he was appalled to see various whitish and yellow ones as well that he didn't recall ever seeing when Gumshoe had been on the force!

" _Ngh!_ What are those?!"

"These are my battle scars of fatherhood," Gumshoe said proudly. "Sure, you can try to wipe off or dry-clean the baby drool or puke, but once your hands are full, or your partner isn't around to pass the baby to while you go clean it off, it just isn't possible. And as you can see," he pointed to one particular nasty-looking snot-colored stain. "Some puke stains just don't come off. Imagine that on one of your fancy suits, Mr. Edgeworth."

Miles felt the blood completely draining from his face at the thought of his Italian, custom-tailored suits being subjected to such atrocities.

"Dick, why in God's name do you still have that manky old thing?" Maggey cried, looking mortified by her husband's shameless display of show-and-tell to the still horrified-looking Miles and gobsmacked looking Franziska. "I thought you got rid of all your old trench coats save for your silky-lined, designer ones!"

"This one has _sentimental_ value, honey," Gumshoe insisted, clutching the coat protectively. "It's like a prized memento of my first days of fatherhood!"

" _Days?"_ Miles echoed weakly. "All that mess was created on your coat…within… _days_?"

Both Gumshoes ignored the question as Gumshoe continued looking at his wife, his expression now tender.

"Besides, honey…" he added softly. "If we're going to make little Gordy's Christmas wish come true, won't you be happy I'll still have this, as it will be much needed again?"

Maggey nodded shyly and blushed a tad as she looked back at her friends.

"Gordy asked for a little brother or sister for Christmas," she explained with a bashful smile. "We're working on making that come true."

"Best of luck in that," Miles replied, clearing his throat while attempting to do the same thing with his mind from the traumatizing visions of Gumshoe's trench coat. "And, er, thank for the additional parental insight, at any rate…"

His weary tone was impossible to miss, and Maggey smiled reassuringly at Miles and Franziska as she reached around Gumshoe's broad neck from behind, wrapping her arms around them and dropping her chin on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry if all this raw talk about baby messes, other than the expected diaper variety, was a bit much for you guys." She said kindly. "But believe me, while babies are loud and noisy and messy as all holy hell, they're also adorable and squishy and give you _the_ most rewarding experience of your lives!"

"However…" Gumshoe added, unwrapping himself from his wife's embrace and dropping a kiss atop her head before picking up the camera then and walking into the living room area. "Just so you know, the stains and messes aren't always limited to your _clothing_. Nothing is sacred, including the couches!" He zoomed the camera in on the stylish suede sofa arm and pulled back the matching-colored suede arm draping, revealing a huge whitish stain underneath. "A puke stain we missed that we can't get out no matter how much we've tried, although we did manage to get the smelly scent out," he sighed. "You may want to consider plastic-wrapping all of your fine furniture _at least_ … until the kid's in college!"

Franziska giggled softly at that one, but Miles was in no laughing mood.

For the new police chief had unwittingly triggered a very recent memory for him, and with it, a horrible thought.

" _Nothing is sacred, including the_ _ **couches**_ _…"_

Gumshoe's harmless, well-intended advice was now producing an image even _more_ _harrowing_ than the terrible trench coat.

"… _A certain someone completely wore me out earlier all afternoon and evening…._ "

Snippets of Phoenix's way too revealing revelations of shared debauchery with Maya, which he'd unknowingly shared with the condo's horrified owner, came flooding back to his mind like a deluge.

"… _Little Miss Insatiable… You're the one who_ _ **jumped me right here on this very sofa**_ _…"_

_Couches... Stains…. Scents…by the rood!_ Miles clapped a hand to his forehead in dismay at the realization. _My handmade, custom-built, imported leather sofas…._ _ **nghoooo**_ ** _!_** _Forget merely burning my sheets and getting a new bed…thanks to Wright and Miss Fey's incorrigible bunny rabbit tendencies, I'm going to need to re-furnish_ _ **my entire living room**_ ** _!_**


	69. Unexpected Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The key to holding a logical argument or debate is to allow oneself to understand the other person's argument no matter how divergent their views may seem."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma  
_ ** _Von Karma Estate, Germany_

Unfortunately, the peaceful feelings of contentment and serenity between the couple from the holidays didn't last long, as soon after, they resumed their polite, distant relations, of speaking only when spoken to and only to convey essential information, such as whether or not they would be dining together that night, more than often not, all much to Miles' heartache.

Since the winter break, they tip-toed around each other about that sprawling mansion, careful to avoid eye or body contact when possible.

How had something so fun and exciting come to this? The sound of her voice used to warm him, the scent of her perfume had made his heart race and the touch of her hand had sent tingles down his spine. That was only _four months_ ago.

Since then, they'd just focused on their work, often taking longer or later hours where applicable so they could avoid each other; Franziska more than him. Dates had been replaced with shifts, laughing and socializing with colleagues and friends had become nights sitting alone in front of the fireplace in their separate chamber or the living room, with a tea, usually alone. They passed each other like ghosts, neither with enough emotional reserves left after their jobs to take care of one another as they used to. Life had become a monotony. With all the best motives they had lost what was precious to them, the reason they worked so hard. The dream was dying in the wind and they had not enough energy to fix things. They had both become unhappy, each of them spent idle moments thinking of alternate lovers who might provide a quick fix to a deeper problem.

They said to expect the unexpected, but truly, what did that really mean? There were some things in life that one could never anticipate, or even fathom, in their wildest dreams or imaginations, simply because the ability to do so was beyond the human realm. Could even the most gifted clairvoyant psychic have foreseen all of _this_? That by taking on an investigation case that was supposed to be the most challenging and rewarding one of his career, it was going to cost Miles everything he'd ever known, and ever really loved, in one fell swoop? That it would make his past come colliding with his present, and irrevocably alter his future, with the forceful cessation of a comet hitting the earth, shattering everything he held dear to his very existence? That his revered colleagues would regard him with barely disguised judgement, or worse, _pity_ , where they'd once regarded him with respect and reverence since the fateful day of Ku's dinner party when all past sins had been exposed? That his former paramour, with whom he'd thought time would've softened by now into a noncomplex, amicable relationship, could now barely look him in the eye? Or speak to him without some level of angst or strain in her voice?

And worst of all, how could he have ever fathomed that the woman he'd loved most of his life, in one way or another, would become a distant, cold, withdrawn stranger to him, even when in the same room…even though they supposedly lived under the same roof?

How could Miles ever have anticipated _any_ of this calamity to occur when he'd opted to take this sting operation on with Franziska nearly six years ago … any more than he could have foreseen the even more traumatic events that were soon to follow?

Ultimately, as much as he was loath to wallow in self-pity and regrets, the cruel hands of fate had decided thus that the worst was yet to come.

* * *

**_Franziska Von Karma and Maggey Gumshoe_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
February 15, 2025, 8:00 AM

Franziska had always been well-read, despite her somewhat sheltered existence. She'd thoroughly studied every medical book and website she could get her hands on since she'd known she was pregnant and had known it would be no cakewalk and that her body would change drastically.

She'd been fully prepared for the knowledge that her hands, feet, and ankles would get puffy, so her swollen and aching limbs didn't surprise her, although she was still saddened when her engagement ring had stopped fitting her at Christmastime. Despite how strained things had been between her and Miles, she'd never wanted to take it off that symbol of his love and commitment. However, she couldn't bear the thought of having to cut it off, should it have gotten stuck, so she'd taken to wearing it around her neck on her gold chain, which she tucked discreetly under her clothing. Miles had looked so pained when he'd seen her barren left hand, but while she was sentimental about the ring, she was still too furious with him to explain.

After all, if he was supposed to be such a prodigy genius – let him figure it out then!

Although she'd brushed aside their banal commentary at the time, she was still mortified about both Gumshoe and Phoenix's proclamations that she was bigger than she should have been – and had hence tried to get an appointment to go see her doctor, who had been the Von Karma physician since she and Katharina were children. He hadn't been able to see her until nearly the third week of January, as when he'd returned from holidays he'd been completely booked, and she had been too embarrassed and proud to have put enough stock into her friends' _amateur observations_ to consider going elsewhere for an opinion in the meantime – after all, what did _they,_ as _men,_ know about having babies?

It turned out the foolish former attorney and detective had been right all along – Franziska was diagnosed with _polyhydramnios_. Naturally, Miles had been alarmed and had insisted on accompanying her to all the follow-up tests after she'd been determined to have excess amniotic fluid, resulting in her overly swollen body. She'd told him he was being foolish by worrying himself so – really, _polyhydramnios_ was just a fancy word meaning excessive fluids had caused her uterus to grow a bit more rapidly than it should have, hence the fact that she resembled a hippo with a gland problem!

In the end, Franziska was relieved the scary-sounding diagnosis hadn't ended up being anything too alarming. It was, however, what had been causing her abdominal discomfort, increased back pain, shortness of breath, and extreme swelling in her feet and ankles. The good news was that post ultrasound and testing, the possibility of fetal abnormalities, amniocentesis, and gestational diabetes had been ruled out, although her doctor had told her he'd be monitoring her closely during labor to ensure everything was going smoothly.

She'd remained optimistic when she got the results back. Sure, her pregnancy wasn't _textbook definition perfect_ , but that was alright. Just because her gestation period wasn't flawless didn't mean _her baby_ wouldn't be, after all. And thus far, there was nothing she couldn't handle. A little extra swelling of her body and limbs seemed to be a small price to pay for the precious life inside her, which had been conceived with all the love in the world between her and the baby's father, even if a small part of her _still_ wanted to wring _said baby father's neck_ for his still _yet-to-be-redeemed,_ _imbecilic, perfidious, deceitful_ behavior regarding the whole Lana situation!

Such was Franziska's state of mind, until the second week of February, three or so weeks from her delivery date.

That morning, she'd woken up with upper abdominal pain, under her ribs on the right side. She threw back the bed covers and was certain she was seeing things – how was it her _right_ leg looked more swollen than the left one?!

She felt like a foreign alien was inside her body … and was starting to contemplate whether or not she was losing her mind! Was she being a foolish, pathetic wimp because the sharp pains she'd been feeling in her back and abdomen were now veering into the more _unbearable zone_?

Frowning, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. She needed to talk to someone – someone who knew of what they spoke, who could tell her if she was overreacting or just going through the final bizarre pregnancy body changes because she was so close to her due date. But whom could she speak with? Adrian didn't even know she was pregnant, and wouldn't be more than a sympathetic ear as she had no children of her own yet. Her doctor was next to impossible to reach by phone and it was a gamble if his _foolish, loose-lipped, airhead_ secretary would convey a message in time. Katharina was at work…who else did she know who had any experience with babies that she could consult?

_Maggey_.

The answer came to Franziska as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. The act of doing so made her step directly into a ray of sun that was peeking through a crack in the drawn bedroom draperies. It shone right into her newly wakened eyes, and she winced in pain as she hastily pulled them shut, effectively blocking out the stream of light and rubbing her temples as she fired up the laptop on her desk –her head had been killing her since yesterday.

She averted her eyes from the computer screen as she waited, silently begging for her friend to pick up. Ugh, had the monitor lights always been so _bright_?

Gumshoe answered the video call, a big smile on his broad face at the sight of her.

"Hey, Sir! Happy Valentine's Day!"

Franziska blinked, then looked at the clock on the computer again, realizing it was 11:00 pm, and indeed the overly celebrated Romantic Day of Fools in the States still. So _that_ had been why Miles had left a dozen roses at her bedside yesterday morning! She'd thought it was all still part of the groveling process, the same reason he'd bequeathed her with a diamond tennis bracelet for Christmas! Her fiancé had been out the rest of the day, so she hadn't even been able to thank him in person … her ever-exhausted state meant that she'd been out like a light by 9:00 the night before, way before he'd probably returned home. Miles was spending more and more time at that gentlemen's club he so favored since they'd been on holidays, so it seemed.

"Same to you, Gumshoe," Franziska muttered, horribly self-conscious of her visibly swollen state. She was also mortified at the thought that she may have interrupted a romantic evening. "I hope I did not wake you two?"

"Not at all – wow, you look about ready to pop now for sure! It must be any day now, huh?"

Franziska scowled at him.

"Not for another _near month_. I will thank you to refrain from any further commentary, you fool!" Even as she spoke, a wave of dizziness came over her, and the sight of her friend on the screen no longer looked clear. Was their long-distance connection skewered? The big detective appeared to look _blurry_ … and _ouch_ , what was _with_ that abdominal pain?! "Um, is Maggey around, perchance?"

"Sure thing, I'll get her. I'll leave you two to your girly talk." Gumshoe gave her a mock salute, and a moment later, Maggey's sweet, smiling face appeared on the screen.

"Well, this is a surprise, Sir! I didn't think I'd hear from you again so soon! How are you feeling?"

Franziska felt beyond gauche. As much as she liked both Gumshoes, she'd always considered them more comrades of her fiancé's than her own. Despite his reassurances, she'd never squelched the lingering paranoia they were only her friends by association, who merely _tolerated_ her for Miles' sake. Consequently, she rarely socialized with them when he was not present and was thus uncertain how to proceed with this conversation.

"Erm … that is actually what I wanted to speak to you about. But before I get into that…how are you two doing? How was your Valentine's Day?"

"Well…since you asked…" Maggey's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she lowered her voice a tad. "It was wonderful! Dick took me to a swanky restaurant and Trucy and Pearl watched our son for a few hours. We got the best Valentine's Day gift _ever_! It's still sort of early, and I'm not sure if Dick would want me to tell anyone just yet, but I'm so excited, I could just burst! Do you remember what little Gordy's Christmas wish was?"

Franziska nodded.

"I _just_ found out I'm six weeks pregnant, Sir!" Maggey joyfully clasped her hands against her chest. "Gordy's going to have a little brother or sister this fall!"

"Congratulations!" Franziska momentarily forgot about her discomfort, as she was flooded with genuine happiness for the kind duo. "I can certainly understand not wanting to tell people when you're only in your first trimester. I promise you that I will not breathe a word to anyone, not even Miles."

"Oh, that's not necessary. You can tell _him_ if you want!" Maggey insisted earnestly. "I'd hate to be the reason you kept secrets from your future husband!"

Franziska gritted her teeth, partly due to her now glaring headache, and partly at the unintentionally triggering words that her friend had just uttered.

"It is fine, Maggey," she ground out with a forced smile. "It is not like _Miles_ hasn't been guilty of keeping _a few little secrets_ from _me_ in the past, after all!"

"Ah, alrighty then…" The benign brunette trailed off uncomfortably; the vehemence in the other woman's tone had been impossible to miss. "So, er, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Franziska stood up hesitantly, still massaging her aching temples, letting her friend see her enormous belly and thick, sausage-like fingers.

Maggey stifled a gasp and was immediately penitent that she'd chastised her husband so severely the month prior for his misgivings regarding the former prosecutor's proportions.

Franziska looked like she was _at least_ having twins now – she was almost _twice the size_ she'd been in January! But what was most alarming was when she raised her leg to the camera and Maggey saw her ankles, which were now nearly indecipherable from her calves. The right one looked like a _grapefruit_ compared to the left one! It appeared her policeman husband knew of what he'd been speaking, after all. As large as Maggey had been, with an _11-pound baby_ in her stomach, she had been _nowhere_ near the German's league.

"Please hang on for just a moment, Franziska…" Maggey whispered shakily as she rose from her seat, her eyes wide with alarm. "I'm going to call Dick over …"

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
February 15, 2025, 8:05 AM

Miles was sitting in the study, having just finished his breakfast. He was polishing off his second cup of tea while reading the paper when Helga appeared in the doorway.

" _Guten Morgen._ You have guests at the door, _Meister_ ," the housekeeper told him, reaching down to collect his drained teacup. "A young _Frau_ and a _Wolf-Mann_ who says he is your boss. He wished me to convey that he needs to see you _urgently_."

_Lana. Lang._

The prosecutor shot up from the armchair immediately and self-consciously brushed back his long fringe. While his mane was free of hair-products and not combed into the slicked-back style that his alter-ego, Max Banks, preferred, he was fortunate to already be fully dressed. Moreover, he was grateful he'd had the foresight to have kept his goatee and gotten his roots touched up a few days ago. After all, Lang _had_ advised that Miles needed to be ready to resume his position at the drop of a hat the moment Ku returned!

Despite it now being well past the holiday season, and Interpol's languishing waiting game and despairing over when the drug lord would ever return from his overseas trip to Asia, it appeared that time had _finally_ come.

His suspicions were confirmed as he strode up to the main hallway, and found Lana and Lang standing there, both with suitcases in their hands and apprehensive looks on their faces.

"Ready to go?" Lang barked by way of salutation. "Our insider has informed us Ku is on his way back to Borginia. We've already instructed Badd and Kay to meet us at the HQ over there immediately. I already have our plane tickets for the next flight, which is in two hours. Let's move!"

"Of course. Just allow me to get my bag from my room. I'm already packed," Miles told them, smiling wanly at Lana in greeting as he started up the staircase. He was halfway up when he raised his eyes and spotted Franziska standing at the top of the landing. She was fully dressed, and her cold, accusing gaze riveted first on him, then down to their unanticipated arrivals in the foyer below.

Lang gaped at the unexpected sight of her, as well as her drastic change in appearance; the last time he'd seen Franziska, she'd barely been showing at all!

"Going somewhere, Miles?" The silver-haired _Frau_ asked coldly, one hand on her hip as she glared first at him, then Lang, who hurriedly shut his mouth and dropped his gaze to the ground, where Lana's eyes were already cast. "And were you planning on _telling_ me at all, or merely creeping out of here like a thief in the night – except, of course, it is still _daylight_?"

Her eyes hardened at the sight of Lana.

"Also, what is that _Schlampe_ doing here in my house?!"

Miles groaned inwardly.

_Not this again. Not now…of all times!_

"Franziska, they _simply_ came to fetch me en route to the airport. I was on my way to inform you right now that Ku is headed back to Borginia, so we've got to get a move on," Miles told her honestly. "I was just coming to get my portmanteau from my chambers."

_From **his** chambers?_ Lana cringed at this indication that the couple was now sleeping in separate quarters, and mentally cursed herself, yet again, for her role in the matter. She vowed silently to keep her mouth shut, hence, no matter _how_ many insults Franziska hurled at her. It seemed a small price to pay, after all, considering she still felt responsible for the rift between the couple.

"How nice that _you're_ so prepared, yet never thought to prompt _me_ to do the same!" Franziska snapped, before turning to their boss. "Also, thank you so much for the lack of notice, Lang, considering we've been on _holiday for_ _two-months_! It's a good thing I'm a light packer … I'll just need a moment to get my things…"

"Agent Von Karma…" Lang cleared his throat. "We only need Miles… _you_ can stay put." He met her fuming expression without flinching. "Don't you give me that look! You're hardly in any condition to be going _anywhere_ right now!"

"Condition? You sexist fool! I may be pregnant, but I am _fully_ capable of doing my duties _just_ as well, if not _better,_ than half the other foolish agents you have!" Franziska argued. "Besides, I am not due for nearly another month…"

" _Meine Dame_ , you know he's right about this," Miles stated reasonably, his eyes imploring with her to understand. " You cannot fly this late in your third trimester."

"Then I shall take the next train over and be there within a couple of hours," she declared, completely undaunted. "I can be packed and out the door in 20 minutes or less. I'll have Hans drive me to the station so I'd have a head start…"

"Agent Von Karma, this is _not_ up for discussion!" Lang exclaimed. "We're not talking mere surveillance anymore. This is the _actual dealer_ of the illegal cocoons now, assuming Ku can be trusted, so it's far too dangerous. Also, we can't risk any… _setbacks_ at this point, should certain things occur that aren't as planned…"

"I am hardly going to go into labor anytime soon!" Franziska cried, forgetting that she'd been about to come downstairs and have Miles take her to the doctor after getting both Gumshoes' nervous recommendations about her state. "Furthermore, if you think I am going to just sit idly at home, twiddling my thumbs while letting my fiancée do _undercover_ …" she practically spat out the word. "Work of _any_ sort with that _shameless, home-wrecking, horny_ _Miststück_ there, you're a bigger fool than I thought, Wolf Man!"

Lana didn't require a German translator to know she'd just endured her _second_ barbed insult within the last minute! She bit her lower lip so hard she thought she tasted blood, but still, she said nothing.

"Franziska, _please_ ," Miles pleaded, hating to see her so incensed. He reached for her hand but she yanked it out of reach, as though she'd been scorched. As he dejectedly turned away, he failed to notice when she let out a muted, impromptu moan just then, and grabbed at her abdomen.

Taking the Wild Mare's momentary silence as acquiescence, Lang reached down and grabbed his bag from the floor.

"When you're in calmer, rational state, you'll see the validity of my logic, _Ane-san_ , as well as the fact that this debate is now _over_." There was a note of finality in the Wolf Man's tone as he turned towards the door. "Come on Lana, Miles … our cab's on its way."

"Don't you _dare_ turn your back on me, _Uneheliches Kind!"_ Franziska shrieked, lashing at Lang with her whip as she hurriedly scampered down the stairs. She missed her mark and ended up flicking Lana's hand, instead. The Agent yelped, more in shock than pain, and Franziska cracked the leather weapon again, this time hitting the Wolf Man on the ear just as he was almost out the door.

"What the – " The Interpol Agent spun around and glowered at her, his expression murderous. "How _dare_ you!"

"How dare _you!"_ Franziska screamed back, cracking the whip again. This time, it struck his weathered cheek. "First, you have the _gall_ to bring this _Schlampe_ into my home, knowing I cannot abide even _the air that she breathes_ … _then_ you swoop in and grab Miles by the ear, as though he were your _pet dog_ and loftily decree that he is leaving with you, without the courtesy of giving either of us any notice! _You_ are the one with one _Hölle of a lot of nerve_ –!"

Suddenly she bent over, nearly falling to her knees as she clutched her stomach again, this time with both hands, her hair falling into her face so it was obstructed from view.

_"Franziska!"_ Miles yelled, rushing to her side just as she collapsed to the floor, her face scrunched up and red with pain as she let out a howl of such piteous agony that the sound would forever be seared into his soul. "My _God_ …" he gasped in alarm as a puddle began to form underneath her. "I think her water just broke!"

" _Noooo_!" Franziska screeched, even as she thrashed about violently in her fiancé's arms. "No… I can't be in labor already! I'm too early!"

Lana's hands flew to her mouth.

" _Please_!" The legist plaintively shouted at his colleagues as he helplessly held the wailing love of his life in his embrace. "Someone, _do_ something!"

_"Quick!"_ Lana gripped Lang's leather sleeve. "Dial **_112_**!"

The Zheng-Fa native stood frozen as though in shock.

"Agent Land, snap out of it, and call the ambulance and emergency services – _right now!"_ The brunette commanded harshly, her voice raising rose several octaves as her supervisor remained standing there in a thunderstruck stupor while she fumbled in her purse for her mobile. "I'll call the others!"

"W- What's happening? What's going on?" Lang's eyes were saucers as he dumbly complied, the phone already at his ear. "It's just her water that broke, right?"

As she impatiently waited for Badd to answer the line, Lana gaped in horror at Franziska, still in Miles' hold. Her crimson face was now pale, eyes squeezed shut as painful convulsions overtook her entire body and the terrifying _colored_ puddle beneath her grew steadily larger.

The ex-detective shook her head at the Kafkaesque scene transpiring before their very eyes, struggling to get the words out as she stared at Lang with a stricken expression.

"I don't think … that there's supposed to be _blood_ when your water breaks…"

All of a sudden, without warning, the thrashings ceased completely, and the German woman's entire body went limp. Her eyes closed as she lay completely still in Miles' arms.

"Franziska!" He cried hoarsely, his composure completely unraveled as he impotently shook her lifeless form. " _Meine Dame_! _Please_ …stay with me!"

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Emergency Unit, Hospital, Germany_  
February 15, 2025 11:00 AM

" _Why_ won't they let me see her?" Miles ranted, pacing for the millionth time in the ER lounge. "Or even _speak_ with me?! I keep begging them for an update, but they keep shooing me away as if I'm some sort of … _pesky fly_ , instead of a man whose _future wife and daughter_ …"

His voice trailed off then and he slumped down into the chair next to Lana, burying his head in his hands.

It was just the two of them in the waiting room at that moment. Lang had gone to use the bathroom. Kay, who'd recently arrived, had volunteered to go get them all coffee from the cafeteria. Badd was still on his way over – he'd been halfway to Borginia when he'd gotten the call – coming on the first train back to Germany.

Lana put a consoling arm around his shoulders.

"They're doing everything they can," she whispered. "All we can do in the meantime is pray…"

" _You_ pray, Lana!" Miles snapped back. "How am I supposed to put my faith in _anyone_ or _anything_  
right now? You tell me, _how_? That's _my fiancée_ fighting for her life … _for our baby's life,_ in there!"

His face was a mask of anguish.

"The fact that they're even having to endure this nightmare makes me wonder if there _is_ anyone up there _at all!_ I've already been through so much loss in my life ... I _refuse_ to believe that if there _is_ a higher power up there, He would be so cruel, so merciless as to take them away from me!"

"Please...you can't think that way..."

Lana watched him helplessly, at loss for words as she took in his tortured expression. In all the years she'd known Miles Edgeworth, she'd never seen him so close to falling apart like this. He was always in charge; so cool, so brusque, so calm. He was a pillar of strength in all strife, which she'd historically always been able to lean on and depend on. When she'd cried in the past, his strong arms had held her, comforted her. Now that their roles were reversed, she didn't know what to do, except try to think positively, despite her fear and fretfulness about the horrible situation.

"She's in good hands, Miles," Lang said thickly, clapping Miles on the shoulder as he walked up to them, having heard the last part of his words. "Keep the faith."

"They have great medical care here, Mr. Edgeworth," Kay added gently, setting down the tray of drinks on the table in front of him and shuffling her feet awkwardly. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"The doctors asked me, if I had to choose, whom they should save between Franziska and the baby," Miles told them hollowly, looking up into their shocked, distressed faces upon hearing this dreadful news. "What kind of fresh hell is this? How can any man ever choose between his wife and child?"

Lana fought back her tears of sympathy. The more anxious she became, the more pronounced became her intellectualization of the whole process. She rationalized and viewed the problem from different viewpoints. She gabbled and sorted the agreement of everyone around her; as if she could force a positive outcome by her sheer brilliance of thought. She didn't know what she would do in this sort of situation herself. She prayed to whatever God was listening that she would never have to and that her friend wouldn't be forced to come to such conundrum crossroads, either.

"What did you say?" She prompted softly.

"I told them to save both of them!" Miles cried helplessly. "Who am I to play God with their lives? I love them both! I – I want them _both!_ What have I ever done in my life that I should have to make this kind of decision?" His voice broke then, and he dropped his head back in his hands. "Th – they told me they'd do what they could…but they couldn't promise anything because Franziska has already lost so much blood…"

"She's a tough girl," a gruff, familiar voice interjected, putting a hand on his back. "That Franziska, that little hellion … I know her. If ever confronted with the devil _himself_ , she would unleash a wrathful fury so forceful that she'd send him straight back to hell with his tail between his legs, wearing the marks of her whip on his back!"

Kay tittered slightly at the imagery and smiled in relief at the long last arrival of Tyrell Badd.

"We're so glad you're here Uncle Badd." She wrapped her arms around him in an effusive hug. He hugged her back, then glanced at Lang over her head and jutted his chin towards the nurse's desk.

"Any updates since you called me?"

Lang shook his head and fidgeted with his sunglasses.

The five of them sat there in silence, each lost in their personal thoughts and prayers, for what seemed like eons, until at long last, one of the doctors came out to the front.

"Miles Edgeworth?"

The legist's head shot up from his palms and he all but ran at the medic, his eyes wild and tormented as he waited for the bulletin that would forever change his life.

The doctor's phizog was stoic and impossible to read as he told him the news.

Emotions swirled with the ice water circling the cold metal drain as streaks of fire burned Miles' cheeks. Each new wave was a hot trail of agony as his shoulders shook in each rake of emotion through his frame. The fire of shame and anger burned just under his skin and a deep emptiness filled his heart as the sentiments brewed over and boiled past the seams he could no longer hold together.

It started slowly, with him sniffling into his sleeves as a pair of tears raced down his cheeks, then slowly graduated, until the heart-wrenching sounds of his noisy sobs echoed through the nearly empty waiting room.

Miles cried as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of his every pore. From his mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of his friends and few strangers around them were suddenly wet with tears. He grabbed onto a chair so that his violent shaking would not cause him to fall and from his eyes came a thicker flow of tears than he had cried for even his own father when he'd passed away. The doctor was still talking to him, for all the good it did. The whole world had vanished for him, now there was only pain enough to break him; agony enough to change him beyond recognition.

Badd, Lang, Kay, and Lana were forced to haplessly endure the sight of something none of them ever thought they'd ever live to see, and never hoped to witness again.

Miles Edgeworth breaking down completely.

Breathing hitched as his knees grew weak and he slumped to the tiles of the hospital ground. There was no hope for a man who cried to his death on the cold linoleum floor, drowning himself in his own tears of hell.


	70. The Darwin Award Winner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Success is not attained by chance, you have to work in order to get it.”

**_Mildred Latrine_**  
 _Beaugosse Incorporated Headquarters, Los Angeles_  
February 17, 2025, 10:00 AM 

In _this_ place, she could be anyone, or perhaps no one at all. The people flowed like rivers, never stopping for obstacles but swirling around them. On those wide avenues with a mix of trees, their leaves rustling softly from the slightly chilly winds of late winter, (which still felt like the _Sahara_ compared to the _icy wasteland_ that was Eagle Mountain, her coerced place of habitation the past five years!), the buildings towered on each side. A hundred years ago she expected it’d been pretty, the golden light on the sandstone architecture, built in the days when curves and design weren’t considered superfluous. Even the street-lamps were dreamt by an artist, built by an engineer following the teachings of a scientist.

On a day like this, crammed amongst more bodies than she could count even in a photograph, Mildred sought comfort in tilting her head to the sky. The glimpse of the morning sun against the skyline gave her the strength just to walk at the pace of the crowd and bottle her claustrophobia inside her chest, so unaccustomed was she to such vast crowds, having not left the serene tranquility of Kurain Village in over 30 years. It was slightly overwhelming, to say the least!

The horde milling about on the busy streets appeared to have a life of its own, the vibrant clothes shone in the morning light and the people moved like enchanting shoals of fish. There was chatter between street vendors and buyers, old friends catching up, new friends being made. It was busy for sure, but the hustle and bustle brought a lot to this city. She found it compelling, albeit slightly daunting.

The village elder’s awestruck eyes took in the bustling surroundings about her, mouth agape as she regarded the cluster of four high tech skyline office buildings before her. All of them were large, smoked glass and steel, each one joined to the next by a covered walkway.

She squinted down at the address she’d jotted down on the piece of paper she was gripping tightly in her hand. 905 Wilshire Boulevard. Yes, that was the one.

The old woman painfully straightened and threw back her shoulders, marching with grim determination into the lobby and then the clear glass elevators, marveling at the shrinking sights of the city view beneath her as she was lifted higher and higher until she, at last, reached the 20th floor. Opening the door to 2016, she found it was lit up with sunny windows all around, which afforded one a picturesque view of downtown Los Angeles.

The receptionist at the front desk was on the phone, but she gave a brief welcoming smile as she gestured to have a seat. Mildred obligingly sat down in one of the chairs indicated and observed her surroundings.

The room was designed to inspire confidence and allay apprehension, with watercolors of outside scenery of some sort sprawled on each wall. Every painting depicted some sort of beautiful beachy rolling waves on idyllic sand or prints of country landscapes. There was a square glass-topped coffee table with company brochures upon it, next to a small coffee carafe, mugs and cream, and sugar. Various chairs in complementary brown, fawn and baby blues, neutral tan colored walls. Impressive and elegant, assorted chairs, some comfortable, some upright with padded seats and carved backs, health magazines neatly arranged on large central cherry wood table.

Beneath her feet was a plush navy carpet that covered the whole room. A television hung in one corner displaying boring commercials. She was too anxious to read any of the magazines or watch TV, so she just tapped her foot impatiently, her sharp eyes never leaving the doorway past the waiting room, which led to the offices inside. 

At last, the woman ended her call.

“Good morning and, welcome to Beaugosse Incorporated. My name is Madison.” She was a woman close to forties, short brown curly hair, and somewhat overweight. “And you are?”

“Good day, I am Mildred.” The village elder wisely kept mum about her admittedly comical – and _accursed_ – surname. She smiled as graciously as she could. “I’m here to see your CEO.”

“Oh, yes, I see you had a 10:00 am appointment.” The receptionist checked the appointment book to confirm and then directed her where she needed to go. “You can go on and wait in his office. Monsieur Beaugosse may be a few moments. He’s just wrapping up a conference call.”

Mildred heard the soft clicks of her sandals hitting the marble floor as she walked through the hallway the secretary told her to go through. The walls were covered with grey and ivory wallpapers and motivational photography with silver frames. There were two small sections of offices across from each other. At last, she reached a heavy set of double doors. On one of them, there was a gold placard, which read, in calligraphy, **_Longines Beaugosse III, President, and CEO._**

She stepped inside and looked around her.

The office was one of tasteful décor overall. It was a huge room, occupying the corner of the building, with floor-to-ceiling windows giving views in two directions: San Gabriel Mountains to the east, and the 73-story U.S. Bank Tower, the tallest building in all LA, to the north. The two remaining walls contained a door, a floor to ceiling bookshelf, with books lined up in precise order, a filing cabinet with paperwork stacked on top, and a water dispenser with paper cups. On the wall behind the bureau was another low bookshelf, and a single oil painting – a vase of flowers by Vincent van Gogh. 

A posh leather swivel chair sat behind the mahogany desk, with three drawers on the right-hand side. The black glass surface was mostly uncluttered, bearing only a MacBook Pro, several stacks of paperwork, pens in a tin, a leather notebook, and a framed photograph.

Curious, Mildred stepped closer to the desk to examine the image. The picture showed a chubby-cheeked little boy, presumably Beaugosse himself, as a golden ringleted moppet, standing between his parents in a little sailor outfit and cap.

The mother, who was dressed in a white tennis dress, a sweater thrown casually over her slender shoulders with the sleeves tied loosely around her neck, was a great beauty. Her eyes, even in the photograph, were vibrantly blue, the color of an indigo ocean, sculpted upon her creamy face like dazzling jewels. Strands of molten gold tumbled out of her scalp, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Cherry lips, crystal white teeth: she truly was a beautiful sight to behold.

In contrast, the father was a man built like a wild animal, his chest muscles bulging, and his biceps balls of strength. Even his legs were swelling with muscle in his tennis white shorts. He looked to be in his late 30’s to early 40's in the photo, a strong man whose muscular definition hadn’t yet begun to wear off with age, his polo shirt still clinging tightly to his skin, showing everyone that he was still in the game. He had short, but immaculately groomed, wavy brown hair and his deeply tanned skin glowed, making his stubble covered chin seem darker. The man’s high cheekbones, perfectly accentuated his face, his full pink lips pressed firmly together in an untellable expression, and his eyes, a golden honey hue, seemed to be screaming out varying emotions which the camera had failed to capture.

 _Interesting. Save for Daddy's rosebud lips, it appears the boy took completely after his mother in the looks department_ , Mildred noted idly, walking over to gaze out one of the enormous windows.

The window was so large it reminded her of a store-front but so high up who could see in, anyway? It was triple-glazed and so clear that the panorama view was like a high definition screen at the movie theater. The birds traveled past, buffeted by the winds that whistled through the towers as if to remind folks that they were in _their_ space now. This real-estate in the sky felt so futuristic, Mildred wouldn’t have been surprised if the CEO just _beamed_ himself right into the office. The city below was so far away, it was like another world, those ant-like people and all their problems were of no more consequence than temporary static on the intercom. In this building, in this office, all this concrete was your cocoon and the window, well, the window showed you as much detail as one would want to know.

Mildred looked down at her watch. It was now 10:20. She swore silently, and hoped she’d not made the lengthy, two-hour train, then near 45-minute bus trip, into the city for _nothing_!

 _It took me nearly **two months** of skimming off the profits of knitting handmade mittens and hats and scarves for those idiot tourists to get the money for the journey up here! _She fumed.

Luckily, Sister Bikini was in a too blissful state of disarray and obliviousness to have noticed the decreased sales turnout that year from Mildred's homemade creations. It appeared that Iris was going to be eligible for parole later this year, so most of the nun’s labors and attentions were focused on making the shrine temple and its surroundings homier and inviting, in the hopeful event that her adopted daughter should be released. She was still as aggravatingly cheery and jolly as ever, much to Mildred’s irritation and incredulity.

How _anyone_ could manage to laugh so boisterously, while living in such _hellacious_ , mostly barren and frigid surroundings, save for the influx of guests for the cabin rentals, during tourist season, was beyond her. Especially in the extra frosty _mornings_!

That was when Mildred particularly just wanted to _smash her breakfast grapefruit_ right into the Sister’s stupid, jovial, _annoyingly perma-grinning_ face! _Hard_. As _hard_ as she could _stand_ it…

Of course, such actions would only get her keister booted out of the village and a one-way ticket to homeless bag lady land. As much as her current residential ramshackle hut left much to be desired, it was _still_ better than getting her mail delivered to “ _Old Woman in Gutter. PO Box Anywhere…”_

Mildred supposed the shrine maiden chortled so much to keep warm, and would have been tempted to follow suit herself, had she thought it would have made a difference in her comfort since that _deceptive village leader_ had _banished_ her five years ago to the _icy depths of hell_ , all under the thinly veiled ruse of having Mildred oversee the cabin constructions! At the time, Maya had been insidiously assuring that it was only going to be a half year to a year until everything was up and running and tourist ready.

 _Six months to a year, **my backside**!_ Mildred thought darkly. _I guess I did **too** damn good a job of overseeing things because that dastardly dame was so “pleased with the progress” that she insisted I stay up here to maintain the order and smooth operations, even though tourist season is over now and there’s no other living soul up there besides Bikini and I! Doesn’t she even **know** what extreme chilly temperatures like this will do to my poor old bones? Not to mention what it does to my **arthritis**! I bet she **does** know! She just **doesn’t give a damn!** Curse you Maya Fey, you sadistic, conniving, ungrateful **bitch**!_

The worst part of the deal, if _anything_ else could be, was that _on top_ of everything else, the wretched Kurain Master had placed Sister Bikini _solely_ in charge of _all_ the finances, meaning Mildred’s days of secretly cooking the books, skimming off the top of the profits, then discreetly pocketing the proceeds as she had while in the village, were completely _over and_ _done_. It was now impossible for Mildred to have _one red cent_ to her name – Maya had ensured she had coughed up _every cent_ she’d had hoarded and that it’d all gone to paying for and making reparations for the Fey Manor _redecorating_ that had been done in the Master's absence at the time. _Then_ , to add insult to injury, she’d stuck Mildred with _all_ other _menial_ tasks, such as rental bookings and room upkeep…as well as _maintaining the integrity of the outhouses_ when the maintenance men couldn’t make it up there, in the off-season!

It was too humiliating for words! Once an esteemed leader and revered council member of the Village Elders, _now_ , in exchange for food, as well as the room and board of her little _hovel_ of a shack, Heavenly Hall, _she_ , Mildred Latrine, was being forced to _clean latrines!_ All because there were no flushing toilets or running water in Eagle Mountain. Maya had wanted the authentic visitor experience of remotely ‘getting away from it all’ to include lack of plumbing as well!

Out of sheer desperation, Mildred had volunteered to knit winter accessories to help the shivering tourists, most who were unaccustomed to the cold, keep warm that year, ( _why_ she hadn’t thought of the idea before this eluded her _completely_ – she was going to blame the cold for affecting her normally cunning mind and making it slower than usual!) as a way to bring in extra income. It was a great plan, and the tourists loved the adorable mittens and gloves and hats and scarves that she created, not even minding the outlandish pricing for them.

Unfortunately, Mildred had come up with the idea only in January that year, when it was too cold for the sanest of visitors to even contemplate visiting. Therefore, she’d only swiped the profits from maybe a dozen sales before the naïve, innocently trusting Sister Bikini, who hadn’t even _dreamed_ of asking for the price list, had swooped in and taken whatever meager funds the sales had generated.

Her biggest regret, in hindsight, was that she hadn’t thought of including “man cozies” as part of her knit and crochet collection. Some tactless male tourists had dared to inquire if she had anything _extra_ to “preserve his precious parts” from succumbing to frostbite!

The request was so outrageous that she’d been unable to curb her acerbic tongue.

_“I bet your brain feels as good as new, seeing that you never use it!” She’d glared dagger at him. “Is this honestly how you speak to your elders, you insolent swine?!”_

_“Can’t blame a man for wanting to protect his pride and joy, you miserable old bag! I bet **you** bring everyone a lot of joy yourself – whenever you leave the room!” He’d retorted loftily. “I’m jealous of all the people that haven’t met you!”_

_Without missing a beat, Mildred’s inner adolescent side had sprung forth, guns blazing._

_“Roses are red, violets are blue! I have 5 fingers, **the 3rd one’s for you**! **”**_

In hindsight, she grudgingly had to admitted not one of her finer moments.

Mercifully Maya had been out of town at a conference, and had taken Mystic Pearl with her, as she usually did when she would be gone more than overnight, so she’d never heard about the incident of Mildred being terrible to revenue-increasing revered visitors!

Now she deeply regretted her rash actions – the new concept of living a frozen, poverty-stricken existence, where she’d once been enjoying comfortable splendor, must have affected her rationale.

For that “man cozy” contraption _alone_ she could have easily charged a good $20 to $25 a piece, and then pocketed $5 to $10 of that easily, before reluctantly turning over the rest to the unsuspecting Sister Bikini. But alas, she hadn’t, and now would have to wait until the next inpouring of tourist season, around April or so, and hope it would still be warm enough to warrant the obscene accessories!

Therefore, this was why she'd needed to have scrimped and saved thus, to have the funds to come down to the city that day. Bikini was busy doing early “spring cleaning” and was so far gone in her own little world she wouldn’t even notice Mildred's absence, and the Master and Pearl were once again away.

 _This_ man was the answer to all of her, and, if she played her cards right, to all of _Kurain’s_ prayers. It would just take a lot and convincing…and a lot of _luck_!

“Good morning. Sorry to keep you waiting,” a pleasant-sounding voice said from behind her.

Mildred turned around and affixed the most placid smile she could muster on her face as she looked at the young man who had entered.

Monsieur Longines Beaugosse the Third had finally made an appearance.

She supposed he wasn’t quite what you would handsome…not in the rugged or even conventional sense. However, the blond man who stood towering before her could hardly be called hard on the eyes either- when he entered a room, most certainly, all heads would turn his way.

Longines was tall and had a slim but muscular build, like that of a gymnast or swimmer. One could have jibed that his clean-cut looks and golden ringlets, the same as in his childhood photo, made him look comparable to a hybrid that was part Mythical Elf and part Ken doll. His blond curls were close-cropped but long enough not to be rebellious. His skin was supple and void of facial hair - his chin was as smooth as a 12- year old's. He clearly sheared that mug every morning with a cut-throat razor, for his mien to be so smooth and close-shaved. His shirt collar was pristine white, without the tell-tale brown lines of some men who skimped on their laundry and his expensive-looking designer suit was neatly pressed and his golden tie a perfect knot.

From her research, Mildred knew it wasn’t just his looks that were clean cut. He was a non-smoker, never tried drugs, exercised daily, kept a clean home, and ran his own company. And that’s all anyone knew about him until she’d arranged this meeting with him, by chance, in the most unlikely circumstances. He was one of the richest men in the State of California, from a long line of wealth, and carried himself like a man of class and refinement.

Yet Longines Beaugosse wasn’t at all standoffish. He remained friendly-faced and welcoming in body posture as he looked at her with a polite, but pleasant smile.  
  
The skin of his face was a flawless and deep bronze, standing out against his long-lashed eyes that were pools of iridescent blue, such like his mother’s from the photo. They shone brightly, honest, open eyes that held no hint of guile – making Mildred lose some of her initial trepidation.

She bit her lip. How could she start a conversation with this man when she didn’t know him? Then, in that instant, he caught her eye; before she could turn away with discomfort, a genuine grin spread across his face, turning it from handsome into divine.

Ultimately, if a man could ever be called _pretty_ , then that was what word she would have used to describe him. _Man-pretty_ , if there was such a thing.

He walked with a natural, fluid grace, every movement competent and flowing as he shook her hand with his slender, well-manicured fingers.

“I’m Longines Beaugosse. _You_ must be Mildred. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting for so long,” he apologized sincerely. “I had some oversea investors in Japan on a conference call, and _my goodness_ , could they ever go _on, and on_! I couldn’t very well cut them off either, after all, the call was on _their_ dime!” He tittered slightly and sank into his desk chair, affixing a dazzling smile of perfect white teeth in her direction as he motioned for her to take the seat across from him. “But, the point is, I’m here now, and I’m all yours…until…” he frowned slightly at his gold Rolex. “11:00. Oh darn, that only gives us a half hour. No matter, I can have Madison push back my calls. I’m never one to cut short a meeting with a potential business partner.”

Mildred looked at him blankly for a moment, momentarily forgetting the ruse under which she’d created this meeting. 

“That _was_ why you wanted to see me, wasn’t it?" He faltered slightly, looking confused. "You wished to discuss becoming a potential franchisee of my _You Blo Me_ salons?”

“Um yes…” she cleared her throat awkwardly and affected her most contrite look. “About that. I believe it’s _me_ who should be apologizing to _you_ , Mr. Beaugosse…”

“Longines, please,” he dismissed, waving his hand airily. “Mr. Beaugosse is my father!” A sad expression crossed his face then, and he looked down for a moment. “Er, I mean… _was_ my father…”

“Well, that’s just it. I didn’t come here to talk business with you,” Mildred stated simply. “And I am very sorry for the dishonest approach I took in my endeavors to meet with you. But still, as a matter of fact, I _am_ here regarding business…with regards to your father, starting with my sincere condolences about his recent passing.”

“Thank you,” he murmured softly, his face falling yet again. “It was so…sudden…and it was only a week ago."

“I understand what a terrible shock this must have been,” she sympathized. “He wasn’t even that old was he?”

“Sixty-one and still seemed like he was in his prime,” Longines replied hollowly. Then he looked at her strangely. “But why would you make an appointment to see me just to offer your condolences? You could have just sent flowers or a card or even called…why did you feel a need to go through so much trouble? Did you know my father? Do _I_ even know _you,_ Ms.…?”

“Latrine,” Mildred supplied quickly, hoping the man would be too caught up in his grieving to smirk or snicker, as nearly everyone did when they heard her last name. When he didn’t react, she hurriedly pressed on. “I did know your father. _And_ your mother. I knew you too, but it was so long ago, I’m sure you don’t remember me at all.”

“No doubt,” Longines’ pleasant expression was slowly being replaced by one of suspicion. “My mother died when I was five. You’ll have to forgive me if my memories from a _quarter-century ago_ are a bit…skewered.”

“ _Completely_ understandable,” Mildred assured him, smiling benignly. “You were such a beautiful child, I recall. Those cherubic, pink cheeks! I see you’ve still got the same halo of curls!” She purposely kept her eyes on his face, never once letting them wander down to the photo facing her on his desk which would have relayed that _exact_ information she’d gotten. “Just look at you now, the spitting image of your beautiful mother!”

“Thank you…” Longines said slowly, still looking at her oddly. “Yes, she was very beautiful indeed.”

“And was taken away from you so young,” Mildred added, assuming her most saddened visage. “Such a senseless tragedy!”

“Well, I’m sure you were aware then, of the circumstances of my mother’s _tragic demise_ ,” Longines suddenly sounded curt. “As well as my father’s.” He arched a well-groomed golden brow. “ _And_ the fact that you’re looking at a man whose parents were _both_ declared posthumous _Darwin Award Winners!_ ”

There was a pregnant pause.

“But I digress.” Longines’ voice was hard now. “You were about to explain to me, I believe, Ms. _Latrine_ , just _how_ you _knew_ my father, and aren’t yet _another_ random weirdo who’s come creeping out of the woodwork since his passing, looking for some sort of _handout_ or favor, or is trying to exploit the very well-known fact of how active my father was in _charity_ work!”

“Oh good heavens no!” Mildew lied easily, widening her eyes innocently. “I won’t want _any_ sort of _money or handout_ from you whatsoever! It is _I_ who wishes to offer _you_ my services, _free_ of charge of course _because_ I knew your father so well. What a great man he was! My village and I are forever indebted to him!”

“Go on…” Longines nodded slowly, his expression now less foreboding but still guarded.

“When you were five, your father came to my village, to communicate with the spirit of your mother, who had died so suddenly,” Mildred explained, sounding so convincing that she nearly fooled herself into believing the events had transpired. “I know you were perhaps too young to remember, and your father made you sit outside the channeling chamber during, but.... there was so much left unsaid betwixt them, and I was so happy I was able to give him the closure, the answers he was seeking. After that, your father became a most generous benefactor to Kurain, as a way to express his gratitude…”

“ _Kurain_?” Longines interrupted. “What is that? And where is it? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Kurain in my village, set in the style of Feudal Japan, where the Kurain Channeling Technique first originated from and is about two hours outside of Los Angeles. All the residents there are spirit mediums, who make their way of living by reuniting regular citizens like your father with the spirit of their dearly departed…”

“Spirit mediums?” Longines echoed. “You mean, you’re like Whoopi Goldberg’s kooky psychic character in that Patrick Swayze movie, _Ghost_? You can talk to actual dead people?!”

“Essentially yes,” Mildred nodded, not overly thrilled with having her family’s sacred powers reduced to being compared to some Hollywood movie she’d never heard, yet seeing no choice but to agree. “Your father was one of our most beloved and renowned philanthropists afterward up until about a month ago. Because of him, our people have been able to get on the map and be known far and wide for our spiritual capabilities.”

“So _that’s_ why you’re wearing that bizarre dressing gown costume that looks like something you’d wear for Cosplay at a fan convention?”

“Indeed it is why I’m wearing this _kimono_.” Mildred gritted her teeth and fought for a patient tone. “This is the customary apparel for spirit mediums, which we traditionally wear both inside and outside the village. It’s what I wear when I’m channeling as well.”

"You're really for real, aren't you?" Tears of gratitude flooded Longines’ eyes then. “I still can’t believe that because of _you_ , my father was able to talk to my mother! It was _you_ personally?”

Mildred nodded again.

“Oh, how _wonderful_!” He clasped his hands to his chest and looked at her with new-found respect, before letting out a small sigh. “My mother, Brooke Beaugosse, was only 25 at the time of her passing. She was the perfect trophy wife and mother, who was merely a victim of trying to maintain her California standards of beauty while simultaneously being someone who was always searching for a deeper spiritual identification with recitations from New Age guru, Dr. Deepak Chopra. She was really into yoga and attempting levitation you see…but bit off more than she could chew with her untimely demise in a bizarre levitating accident. I don’t know what possessed Mom to want to make her first-time levitating efforts be off of the Hollywood Hills!”

Mildred had been aware of all of this from her meticulous research on the Beaugosse family, so she didn’t even bat an eyelash at hearing the details of the admittedly freak incident.

“Indeed, a shocking tragedy,” she agreed solemnly. “Which is why I’m so happy to offer my services to you, as a means of expressing my gratitude for all your father did for me and my people, by offering a complementary channeling of your father for you, so you two could say words to one another that you never had a chance to. Would you like that?”

“Would I _ever_!” His blue eyes glowed. “I only wish I could have remembered what it was Mom would have said to Dad back then during her channeling – I don’t remember Dad mentioning anything to me at all, ever! And I can’t seem to recall him ever bringing me to some little village!” He sighed. “If only I hadn’t been so young…”

The curiosity was getting to her. There was still one thing she yearned to clarify.

“About your mother…” Mildred asked carefully. “I must admit, I’m a bit confused as to what attempting to maintain her beauty standards had to do with her...untimely demise?”

“That quack plastic surgeon of hers was to blame for this, mark my words!” His eyes flashed with anger. “Mom had been complaining that her routine liposuction didn’t feel right a few days beforehand…she was complaining to the maids that her right butt cheek looked and felt more lopsided than the left! _Completely_ threw off her groove, as well as her equilibrium balance, trust me!”

 _But of course_! Mildred thought acidly, barely refraining from rolling her eyes. _It had **nothing** to do with the overly vain, new-age hippy **henwit** trying to raise herself off a 45-foot high set of HOLLYWOOD letters which are sitting just below a cliff **whatsoever**!_

“I see,” Mildred said aloud, with a perfectly straight face. “That is disturbing news indeed. That part certainly wasn’t publicized at all.”

“My father’s death sure was though,” Longines groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Oh, the humanity! The trashy tabloids were all over this scandal just because he was the Governor of Utah!”

Mildred raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

“Those filthy rags just make me sick!” Longines fumed. “Those cheap, tawdry tabloids describe even the most _salacious_ details of the private lives of the rich and famous! And the public- they eat it all up! It’s like they feel it’s ‘one in the eye’ for the common man like they _deserved_ it for courting celebrity and fame! It’s like crack to these vultures, the way they devour and pour over the print, imbibing the scandal, reveling in the embarrassment of others. Then at work on the next day, they’ll go off and just repeat the latest diatribe of news, telling it like it was _their_ information to spread!”

Mildred remained mum and let him rant, nodding sympathetically.

“Even though my father was a politician, I’ve always jealously guarded my _own_ privacy,” Longines declared, crossing his arms. “I keep my phone number strictly unlisted and grow the hedges around my mansion so high that no one could peer in!” He paused for a breath then. “So, this channeling thing you can do, how does it work? Can you channel my father right here, right now?”

This was where matters could be tricky. Mildred chose her words carefully.

“While the Kurain Channeling Technique _can_ be done outside of the perimeters of our village, we usually _recommend_ the person come to the village itself, where our spiritual powers are strongest,” she said quickly. “What’s your schedule like, say…later this week?”

* * *

 ** _Mildred Latrine_**  
 _Kurain Village_  
February 21, 2025, 3:00 PM

“I’m glad you’re pleased with the statue of your late father that we’re creating in his honor,” Mildred smiled sweetly as she walked Longines to his red Ferrari at the entrance of the Kurain. “After all it was _his_ generosity that allowed us to be part of modern civilization, and finally have cell service, as well as internet and cable here! You saw that cell tower and satellite dish! By the way, the only reason said the statue is on the outskirts of the village right now, outside of Heavenly Hall, is because it’s still not completed. The moment it is, we shall move it right by Dusky Bridge, which, as you saw on the _newly painted sign_ there, has been now changed to “ _JeMarkus Pepper Estaban Beaugosse Bridge_ ” in commemoration of your father.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Longines smiled back. “I don’t know how to thank you enough for what you’ve done for me, Mystic Mildred. That experience in that Channeling Chamber was…just _literally out of this world!_ Were it not for you, I’d never have gotten to talk to my dear old Dad again…never mind known what his last wishes were for me! But now that I do, I am morally bound to honor them. I appreciate your offer to help me fulfill them.”

“It was a most _pleasant_ _surprise_ , was it not?” Mildred grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “Don’t you worry about a thing, I will set up with a meeting with you _very_ soon - you can _count on it!”_

“We’ll be in touch then!" Longines waved from his convertible as he pulled away. “Thank you again, Mystic Mildred!”

“Don’t mention it!” Mildred kept the smile plastered on her face, waving until Longines had driven out of sight. Then she smirked to herself as she reached into the pocket of her kimono and pulled out the newspaper clipping from the week before, of the “tragic” event that had been the answer to all her troubles.

* * *

**JEMARKUS PEPPER ESTABAN BEAUGOSSE. Born in 1964 in Salt Lake City, the former Governor of Utah and owner of several businesses including North Star Telcom Corporation, passed away on February 11, 2025, in a tragic accident at an adult entertainment bar where he, unfortunately, choked to death on a sequined pastie he had orally removed from an exotic dancer at an unnamed Los Angeles establishment.  
"I didn't think he was going to eat it," the dancer identified only as "Charity" said, adding, "He was really drunk."  
Beaugosse was 61 years old. Predeceased by his wife, Brooklyn Beaugosse, (nee Bridges) he is survived by his only son, Longines Diandre Crispin Beaugosse the Third, 30, the owner of the successful salon chain and blow-dry bar, _You Blo Me…_**

* * *

_Darwin Winners indeed! He and his wife were assuredly two of a kind!_

Mildred cackled gleefully as she headed into the Meeting Hall where the council of Elders had assembled, at her request.

Upon entering the room, she swiftly walked to the head of the table, smiled benevolently at her fellow peers, then slapped her hands hard on the polished wood with a resounding thump, to ensure she had all eyes on her while her steely gaze met those of the dozen women seated.

“I bring an important matter to this table today, ladies, which is why I’ve assembled all of you here today. As is our scared tradition, I move that it is high time our Master of Kurain, Mystic Maya, find herself a suitable husband and produce an heir, via the same means of all Masters before her – by _allowing us to arrange a suitor_ for her. And I already have the _perfect_ fellow in mind…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: While this work is indeed fiction, The Darwin Awards are most definitely a real thing! Trust me! Look it up!


	71. Shattered Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is but a roaming shadow, a pitiable thespian who struts and frets his few moments upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale imparted by a foolish wit, full of noise and fury... yet meaningless nonetheless. A beautiful lie. A depressing truth. Beyond the hedgerows and white picket fence, a new grave...lies, with daisies or buttercups for the deceased. We come from mother earth, born naked and vulnerable; we return to her embrace as the same simple beings, sending our spirits to our Father above.

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Konigsfeld im Schwarzwald, God's Acre Cemetery, Germany_  
February 22, 2025, 3:00 PM

The day of the funeral arrived, and Miles found himself dressed in his black suit pants and jacket, preparing to leave in a black car that had come from nowhere, surrounded by people he could only pay half mind to. A small handful of supporters and friends would be there at his side, people he’d known for years, but in his current state of mind, he knew he’d hardly register any of them. A grave had been dug close to the lane that ran the length of the cemetery. He didn’t say a word as the black Rolls Royce drew up and the driver exited swiftly, opening the back door for him to get out.

Lana, who’d been sitting silently next to him, reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Lang and…the others will already be there,” she said softly. “He insisted I ride over with you so that you wouldn’t have to come alone. Your sister in law and everyone else wanted me to convey that they will be here very shortly…they just wanted you to arrive earlier so you could maybe have a few extra moments …”

“I’m fine, Lana,” he replied stiffly, standing like a statue outside the car while he waited for the driver to extend a hand and help her exit. “There’s no need to concern yourself.”

The Agent bit her lip, unsure of what to say further. There was no predicting how Miles was going to act or react under these circumstances, and she had no desire to rock the boat. All she wanted to do was be there for him and support him, and she had no idea how best to do so in these tragic circumstances.

She’d never felt more hapless or useless in her life. This was just as bad as that fateful day they’d found out the news.

Her mind flashed back to that horrible event a week ago in the hospital waiting room… right before the doctor had arrived…

* * *

 ** _Lana Skye and Interpol Agents_**  
 _Emergency Unit, Hospital, Germany_  
February 15, 2025, 11:00 AM

The atmosphere in the waiting room wasn’t much better than the frigid air outside, where it was so brittle it could snap, and if it didn't, one of the agents feared _they_ might; they were all _that_ on edge.

Nobody spoke. What was there to say? Further platitudes wouldn’t cut it right now, would do little good to ease the terrible burden of worry. While they all cared for Franziska, none of them could even _fathom_ what was going through _Miles’_ mind at that moment. After all, beyond those doors, fighting for their lives... was _his_ unborn child and _his_ future wife, the love of his life and keeper of his heart - not just some nameless patient who was facing life or death peril. In this suspended horror that they all willed to end, and to last an eternity at the same time, each of their hearts was heavy and their minds filled with torment, while their eyes were still scanning for medical personnel who could answer the endless, torturous questions. Any minute, any second, they could know, and then decide whether to cheer the roof right off or all suffer the resonating pain together, which would undoubtedly engulf them entirely. There was not a person in that room who wanted anything but a happy miracle for Franziska and the baby, yet _Miles Edgeworth_ was the one who might have required sedation if he lost them.

And so they all sat. Worrying. Wondering. Hoping. Praying.

Then the doctor, at last, came out.

“Miles Edgeworth?”

The doctor spoke into his ear, but not loud enough for any of them to fully overhear.

They didn’t need to.

The barrister fell apart, right there and then, in front of their astounded, pained eyes.

Lana and the rest were forced to watch this proud, often aloof, man, one of renowned, enviable self-control, who had forever been a pillar of strength in all avenues, regardless of what life had thrown at him, completely crumble to pieces before them.

And they could do nothing but helplessly watch.

When he’d cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound. He’d clasp onto something for support, anything, a table or the back of a chair, and then his whole body would shake. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his torment, then overcome by the wave of his emotions, he broke down entirely, all his defenses washed away in those salty tears.

Not knowing what else to do, Lana and Kay had rushed to his side, each kneeling next to him on that cold floor and enveloping his shaking form from either side, holding him while he wept.

Badd had yanked the flustered doctor aside, demanding answers, his voice tight with barely suppressed emotions as he demanded clarity to the unintentional, but misleading, words of devastation he’d just uttered to the grieving man collapsed in a heap at their feet.

_“Mr. Edgeworth, I’m very sorry – we did all we could to save them both, but unfortunately that wasn’t possible…”_

Then the rest of his words had been lost as Miles had promptly crumbled like a napkin right there and then, too distraught to understand the rest of what the doctor was trying to convey.

“What the hell _happened_?” Badd demanded harshly, grabbing the doctor and yanking him away from the shattered Miles, whom he was still trying to talk to, only to have his words falling on deafened ears. He glowered at the smaller man murderously. " _What_ did you say to him? Forget trying to talk to him right now – can’t you see he’s a bloody wreck?! Did you just tell him that _neither his wife nor daughter_ …” The burly detective couldn’t even say the words.

The doctor shook his head nervously, dismay, and terror on his face at the intense look in the large man’s eyes. “No – no, _Herr_ , I did not,” he stammered. “Not intentionally. I had initially spoken to him in German and I’m afraid something got lost in translation…”

“Well, obviously you’re _capable_ of speaking _English!”_ Lang barked, glaring at the young man as he stormed up behind the two. “So go ahead and tell _us_ what you _meant_ to tell him, but evidently, didn’t manage to convey properly!”

At the sight of the incensed Wolf Man, the poor doctor nearly wet himself. While the larger older detective was a threatening presence, the Interpol agent was an even more disturbing force to be reckoned with.

“The b-baby,” the doctor rasped desperately. “He – he didn’t allow me to finish the sentence… but… while we did all we could to save them both, unfortunately, that wasn’t possible…there were complications during the emergency caesarian. I’m very sorry, but the baby… she didn’t make it.”

Lang closed his eyes as he sucked a deep, shuddering breath at the distressing news, requiring Badd to take over again.

“And what about Franziska…?” He asked wearily, struggling to keep his voice even.

“Although she’s lost a lot of blood, and we are trying to get her blood pressure down, she will be fine,” the doctor assured Badd, focusing his attentions on the less terrifying of the men. “She’s heavily sedated now and will need to stay here a few nights until we can stabilize her vitals and get her a transfusion and let her stitches heal. She’s got a very rare blood type but luckily we have enough in stock.”

The medic glanced back nervously at Miles, who was now slumped against Lana’s shoulder while still being sandwiched between both her and Kay in a comforting embrace.

“Er, will he be alright? Would you mind conveying this to him, as I need to get back to the patient…”

“Don’t worry, we can make sure we get the _correct_ information to the poor man, you _Dummkopf_!” Lang snarled. “I’ll go out on a limb and deduce communications course is required for you quacks in medical school!”

The doctor cowered slightly, and despite his own sadness, Badd took pity on the man and somehow managed to speak in a slightly less gruff, imposing tone now.

“Just go take care of Franziska,” he told the physician, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the Emergency Unit. “We’ll all be here for Miles.”

The doctor didn’t need to be told twice. Within the blink of an eye, he’d already hastily disappeared down the hall, in a rapid blur of white coat and green scrubs, leaving the poleaxed Interpol staff to contend with the devastated prosecutor.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Konigsfeld im Schwarzwald, God's Acre Cemetery, Germany_  
February 22, 2025, 3:00 PM

Lana stepped out of the vehicle, and stood there next to him, trying to scrutinize her ex’s expression but his head was turned away from her.

“Miles, please, don’t do this,” she whispered. “Let me be here for you, as you were for me.”

He remained silent.

“Miles,” her tone was beseeching. “Miles, _look_ at me.”

When he, at last, turned his face to the brunette, her heart lurched at the beleaguered look in that grey gaze.

In spite of his attempted stoic tone earlier, his expression was a picture of grief, loss, devastation. It was the face of one who had suffered previously and didn't know if he could do it again. Then, just when she thought the breakthrough would come and he would trust her with his vulnerability, the shutters would come down, his emotion walled off behind a mask of coping. He would just wear it until everything was right again, he didn't know another way.

“We expect to bury our parents one day, Lana,” he whispered brokenly. “But – never our children.”

“I know.” She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, looking at him with saddened, compassionate eyes.

Neither of them spoke.

“We should head in,” Miles told her, putting on a pair of dark sunglasses in a vain attempt to mask the sorrow in his eyes. “Franziska wanted to ensure she and I didn’t arrive here together, so it won’t be respectful to her wishes if she and Katharina pull up now with us still standing here at the entrance, so let’s go.” Without looking behind him to see if she was following him or not then, he strode on ahead.

To enter the cemetery he first needed to skirt around a pile of brown frosted leaves, the innumerable flashing fragments shining in the brilliant wintry light, for today there was no weather; no wind, no cloud, just subzero temperatures. Even the leaf stems lay white and sharp. Ahead the path glistened like white quartz, yet ice crystals on weary concrete were all it was. All this beauty over everything dead. And here he was to add to it, with a bunch of yellow buttercups in his hand.

He paused, waiting for Lana to catch up to his long strides in her dressy heels, his breath rising in visible puffs, then he remembered why he’d come. He needed to pay his respects to his daughter, Carol, his mother’s namesake, prior to them being separated by six feet of earth, while he could still imagine her: whole, tiny, cherubic, and perfect, lying there as if only sleeping.

Along the wide central avenue, the convoy of black limousines was already stationary and there was already a small group of people who he wasn’t sure he would be able to face – some, he was certain, like Franziska, and possibly her sister, who possibly didn’t want to see his face. After all, he was the man who had lied, albeit with mostly with honorable intentions, to protect the mother of his child and the life inside of her, from any stress or upset by sweeping his sundry past details under a rug, only to have instead shattered the trust between them in the process.

All in vain. In end, no matter what his objective had been, it had all been for nothing! That was one of the most devastating aspects of all.

The lawyer still loved his fiancée entirely, for both the good and the bad, and desperately wanted to be there for her and comfort her in this darkest hour for them both.

Alas, it was not even a remote possibility.

Because it was glaringly, painfully evident that somehow, for this loss, Franziska blamed _him_. Moreover, she utterly _despised_ him now, if anything, _more_ so now, than even _before_ the tragedy.

For the rest of his days, Miles knew he would be plagued by the haunted, accusing look in her eyes when he’d seen her right after she’d woken up that fateful day at the hospital…

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Hospital, Germany_  
February 15, 2025, 2:00 PM

He’d had three hours to pull himself together since he’d been relayed the shattering news. To dry his tears, call Katharina, and put on his most ascetic expression for the sake of his friends, who had not left his side, and were still there in the waiting room, knowing, although he would never be able to convey, that he needed them.

Miles stopped hesitantly at the door of his fiancée’s ward. He’d been told she’d finally awakened from her sedation but hadn’t been certain if she was awake yet, or been told what had happened.

Her eyes met his the moment he stepped in and that was when he realized he wouldn’t be the one forced to relay the horrible message to her.

She already knew.

The district attorney had never seen his betrothed look this way before, not even when Manfred had died. Her eyes had a deadness, a stillness. The girl who, at least with him, had laughed often, the one who had been his long-time lover and friend had developed a hardness. It was as if he could read everything she blamed in for in one extended glare and forgiveness wasn't an option anymore. Perhaps if they’d saved Carol, got to her faster, things would have been different between them...

“Franziska…”

Her eyes were a knife in his ribs, the sharp point digging deeper. Where there had been love was an emptiness, but not in any vulnerable sense. Uncomfortable with the void, she appeared to have filled it with an emotion she was infinitely more at ease with - raw anger. The unmoving gaze was accompanied by deliberate slow breathing, as if she was fighting something back and loosing.

“How _could_ you, Miles?”

He stared at her speechlessly, utterly stunned. He’d expected grieving, of course, but not this… cold, incriminating, fury emanating from her, as her icy gray eyes bored into him.

“The doctors told me you were given the choice between me and Carol.” Franziska stared daggers at him. “You were given the chance to save me or our _daughter_ yet you failed to make what should have been such an obvious decision! How could you not know, if given the option, that I would have chosen to have saved our child, you foolish fool!” Her voice broke then. “My baby. My poor, sweet baby…”

“Franziska… _how_ could I make such a choice?” Miles cried, still dumbfounded by her anger, even as her eyes raked him with scorn. “I didn’t tell them not to save the baby – I _begged and pleaded_ with them to save you _both_! I couldn’t choose between you two!”

“Well, you _should_ have!” She buried her head in her hands. “I wish it _had_ been me that had died! What life is there for me now to live, if I have to go through it without my precious daughter?”

“ _Meine Dame_ …” He walked over to the bed and went to put his hand on her shoulder, but she slapped it away, her voice rising to a shrill, nearly hysterical, pitch.

“Do not _dare_ to touch me!”

“Stop this, Franziska,” a familiar voice spoke then, quietly but firmly.

The heartbroken paid glanced up and met the saddened but steady gaze of Katharina Rudolf, who had arrived at last.

“ _Schwester,”_ the younger Von Karma whispered shakily, tears filling her eyes at the sight of her beloved elder sister.

The blonde strode in swiftly, pausing only long enough to give Miles a consoling pat on the arm and quick kiss on the cheek, then engulfed her younger sibling into her arms. Franziska sagged against her, burying her head against the older woman’s chest like a young child, while the psychologist soothingly stroked the satiny silver head.

“My heart aches for your loss, dear sister,” Katharina murmured, placing a kiss on top of Franziska’s head. “But I cannot allow you to use Miles as your whipping boy. It is _just as much_ his loss as it is your own, and he bears no fault whatsoever for this senseless tragedy. The doctors told me what happened. There was naught they could do for the child. It was too late."

Franziska and Miles silently stared at her, trying to understand. Katharina shook her head sadly as she elaborated.

"Unfortunately, Franziska, on top of the polyhydramnios, which was causing the excess swelling, it seemed near the end, you were a victim of preeclampsia, which was the most likely cause of the placental abruption, which caused the excess bleeding. It was why they opted for emergency caesarian…in an effort to save the baby, but …”

Her voice trailed off as she shook her head sorrowfully while regarding her sister, then Miles, with somber orbs that were shining with love and sympathy.

“I am so sorry, both of you, for this tragic loss.”

The barrister swallowed hard. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Franziska jerked her head up, her eyes wild as she looked first at Miles, then back at her sister.

“I am a bad person, am I not, Katharina?” She asked frantically. “That means this was my fault then – _I_ am to blame! _That_ is why I’m being punished like this, thus. How else to explain the loss of not _one_ , but _two_ daughters already, in less than five years?”

“Franziska, what in the world…” Katharina was so shocked she was at a loss for words. “ _How_ can you even think…”

 _“Meine Dame!”_ Miles gasped in horror. “Please, don’t speak in such a manner! Of course, you are not a bad person…”

Franziska shook her head stubbornly, her voice rising again to a fevered pitch as she looked at them with troubled, agonized eyes.

“No, no, I surely must have been a bad person,” she insisted stubbornly. “It is all _my_ fault these hardships have befallen me! It is my penance for all those that I have whipped; my karmic retribution for all the times I have yelled, hit, and threatened those who were often undeserving of my wrath…"

"Dear sister..." Katharina sounded like she was near tears. “ _Bitte!_ Please do not torture yourself like this!”

"And _Gott_ only knows what _other_ sins I have committed that I am not paying mind to at this moment!” Franziska cried. She clutched her sibling's sleeves while staring up at her, then swiveled sightless grief-struck eyes at her partner as she continued her crazed ramblings, wrenching Miles’ heart with her words.

“To come so close to pure love and lose it so violently is something no medication can heal. I held our baby girl when she came into this world, a gift from God above, a new angel for Earth and then I was told even as I rejoiced in holding her in my arms, thereafter, I must now mourn her and find a coffin for her to be placed in instead of a bassinet. All I shall have left of her now is whatever we readied for her in the nursery that was once our home, as her soul has fled back to the creator.” Her lips trembled. “My heart is broken, what beats in my chest is merely a mass of angry muscle that will function only to pump blood in my veins, for I have nothing else left within me. Carol... she should have had a _life_ , love, music, and dance! _She_ should have been the one weeping at _my_ graveside with her husband and children about her, not the other way around!”

And with those gut-twisting words uttered, Franziska collapsed in Katharina’s arms then, and finally cried. She cried like there was too much raw pain inside her to be contained. She cried as if the ferocity of it might bring her baby back; as if by the sheer force of her grievance, the news would be undone. She cried like her spirit needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release an elemental rage on the world. The soothing words of her sister made no difference at all. She was beyond all reason, beyond all-natural methods of calming.

She wasn’t even aware that Miles had left the room, awash in fresh tears of his own rekindled grief.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Konigsfeld im Schwarzwald, God's Acre Cemetery, Germany_  
February 22, 2025, 3:00 PM

_Grief. Feels like emptiness in your heart, a shear of nothingness that somehow takes over and holds your soul and threatens to kill you entirely. It gives you this heavy feeling that’s like the weight of the world is resting on your shoulders and there is nothing you can do to get out from under it. It’s like this hole in your heart that is the shape of the one you lost and that makes you feel the need to wipe away any non-existent tears that you want to form but can’t._

The wretchedness of the grief came in waves and threatened to consume him entirely. It was his master, for now. He was at the mercy of its whims and at times it bit at him with such ferocity he feared it would leave him an empty shell.

The sun shone brilliantly. Its glare was offensively bright and cheerful. It was as if it conspired to show him how the world would go on without his precious little angel. It shouldn't. Everything should have been as grey and foggy as his emotions, it should have been cold and damp with silent air. But the birds still sang and the flowers still bloomed. He walked through the grounds like a silhouette of himself, wishing he was as insubstantial as the shadows so that his insides might not feel so mangled. As he neared the designated spot, behind his sunglasses, he found he could no longer hold back tears which had already begun to flow. Furious with himself, he yanked off the shades and buried his head in his hands, this time not turning away from the comforting hands that were placed on his shoulders.

He was not ashamed. Carol had been as much his daughter as Franziska’s. She’d been _planned for and wanted_ , and he’d _loved_ her. Now that she was gone, a light had been extinguished forever in his heart.

He stood in his silent mourning and awaited the start of the funeral service.

* * *

 ** _Franziska Von Karma and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Konigsfeld im Schwarzwald, God's Acre Cemetery, Germany_  
February 22, 2025, 3:15 PM

Franziska silently stared out the tinted windows of the limousine as it pulled up the cemetery, barely registering her sister squeezing her hand. Katharina had been staying at the mansion ever since her arrival a week ago, while Anneliese, who was still in school, was staying with her father in Switzerland during her mother’s absence.

_It is a cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been broken in two. It can feel as though it is being gripped in an ice-cold vice and ache as if it will implode in your chest, but still the boom-boom continues._

Before exiting the car and making her way over the frozen turf, she took her sorrow and balled it up so tight none could escape. She was out of tears. There was no longer any point in weeping over a child God had not allowed her to bring to this world and had not even allowed her to love in life, so in death, it should have been no different. She felt like a zombie as she stepped out of the limo. She’d had no mind as she’d cast on her designer black dress and applied her eyeliner earlier. Every movement for the past week had been methodical…and yet automatically robotic at the same time.

She was unprepared for the frigid wintry air that invaded her lungs and stung her eyes. Her eyes welled up and tears streaked down her face, her lips trembling until she bit them and threw back her shoulders, marching next to her sister as her tears dried on her cheeks, head bowed, ignoring the searing pain of her abdominal stitches the brisk movements caused – she'd _refused_ to take the recommended wheelchair for this trip until she was healed! – before standing and taking her place across from Miles and amongst the official mourners.

Her fiancé tried to catch her eye and she nodded her greeting, but she couldn’t look into his anguished face, knowing his tormented expression mirrored her own. It was just too much for her to bear.

The minister wore empathy like his overcoat, just for work. It wasn't that he was a cold person, quite the opposite, but he had to find a way not to be drained by constant blackness. Stepping into the world of the bereaved, even just a fraction, day after day would wipe him out emotionally. He'd seen more bodies returned to the earth, more souls returned to the Lord than most people saw sunsets. Today was no different. As the mourners gathered on the windswept graveyard his face was a perfect picture of controlled sadness as he began to read a passage. 

Despite her resolve to remain dry-eyed, Franziska felt her eyes become wet, yet she didn’t realize she was crying until her ribs began to heave like they suddenly weighed too much to allow breathing.

_There will always be a part of me still at her funeral, listening to the hymn, "The Lord is my Shepard." It's the part that refuses to let her go, that needs our bond to extend past our mortal life together, which was cruelly cut too short._

Miles lost his struggle to hold back the grieving. The tears flowed steadily, silently, down his immobile face. He felt bruised inside, numbness, emptiness, standing by that tiny mahogany coffin, saying goodbye, although little Carol was gone already, the soul unwilling to acknowledge the finality of death, never to be able to look upon her parents’ faces or feel their embrace, see the warmth in their eyes, be surrounded by their love. Words from the cleric and Katharina’s speech at the service brought a fresh onslaught of tears, well-spoken words, a tribute to this tiny life that would have been given a lifetime of love. His hands shook as he placed his flowers, along with the swarm of daisies and dusky pink roses, on the casket, watching the mini box be lowered into the grave through tearstained eyes.

_Good-bye, my sweet angel. You’ll have both your grandmas to look after you in heaven now._

It was too overwhelming. The emptiness in his heart, the dullness pounding his brain, the salty tears that flowed unchecked from his eyes, and the sheer nothingness that now took hold of his soul, threatened to engulf him. His legs buckled, knees sinking into the sodden earth as he watched the casket lowered to its final resting place

At the sight of her normally kept-together, stoic fiancé unraveling at the seams before her very eyes, for the first time, something inside Franziska snapped then, and she too, came undone at that moment.

It was more than crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. The strength left her legs and she sank to her knees at the tiny grave, not caring about the damp mud that dirtied her dress. Her tears mingled with the rain that had suddenly begun to fall, and her gasping wails echoed around the gravestones. The pain that flowed from her was as palpable as the frigid winter wind and within moments, Miles was at her side and taking her sobbing form into his strong arms while struggling to keep his own tears silent, looking up to the watery skies and heaven beyond as he held the weeping Franziska in his embrace for the first time in months. He had to believe his baby was safe up there, comfortable, and warm. To look down would be to imagine her cold in a box, bereft of his cuddles and goodnight kisses.

Franziska had always been so self-conscious when she cried, but now she just gave way to the enormity of her misery. She sobbed into her hands and the tears dripped between her fingers, raining down onto the parched soil. Her breathing was ragged, gasping. She couldn’t even feel the grit that dug into her knees. She was noisy, her skin was blotched and she didn’t give a damn that everyone at the service could see her, completely delirious with grief. She cried until no more tears came, but still, the emptiness and sorrow remained.

Miles cried until there was nothing left inside but a raw emptiness that nibbled at his insides like a hungry rat. His irises were threaded scarlet and his eyeballs hung heavy in their sockets. His whole body hung limp, as though each limb weighed twice as much as it had before, and just moving it about was a slow, painful effort.

Above them, just as quickly as it had come, the rain had abated. The clouds parted and the sun now shone in the sky. But not for him. The birds sang in bursts of melody. But not for him. For him, there was no beauty left in the world.

For his heart wasn’t merely broken, it was a shadow of what it was…and only fading a little more and more with each passing day.


	72. For The Honor Or Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have the right and the responsibility to be intolerant of those things which should not be tolerated.”

**_Mildred Latrine_**  
 _Kurain Village_  
March 1, 2025, 8:00 PM

Mildred whistled cheerfully to herself as she headed to the Meeting Hall to join the rest of the Elder Council. She was certain that everything would go according to the plan that day as she’d conspired it to. Surely not even Mystic Maya, in all her concrete obstinacy and resolve, would be able to resist the pressure of an _entire_ board, especially when, with regards to the Kurain leader’s betrothal, they were all on _her_ side!

It was no matter that most of the council didn’t personally loathe the Master as Mildred herself did – a fact which she’d skillfully kept latent when she’d presented her case to them, instead proclaiming how an auspicious marriage could result in nothing but the greater good for all of Kurain. Ultimately, her persuasions had been a slam dunk when coupled with the bare bones at the heart of the matter – ancient revered village custom and tradition, which were sacred above all else. To break such a convention would only bring back all the shame and dishonor to the Fey name that Maya had fought so hard to rise above over the years.

Ergo, Mildred was certain this was one argument she could not lose. Admittedly, getting the tenacious young master to agree to the terms might be _slightly_ more difficult than it had been convincing the simple, trusting, traditional Elders, and would be _infinitely_ harder than it’d been getting that _sniveling, naïve simpleton_ pretty boy on board, but the old woman was confident she would triumph victoriously in the end. 

Mildred genuinely didn’t believe that her intended actions were rooted from any sort of pure meanness or malice, as much as from a rather an exaggerated sense of self-preservation. She wasn't the only one in this world who was like this, after all, she convinced herself.

If asked, Mildred would honestly reply that she wasn’t sure from precisely _what_ her dismissive apathy of those around her stemmed, or from exactly _where_ her self-serving instincts initially came. Perhaps she’d been a baby that was left to cry, or suffered a personality disorder that the doctors couldn't ever fix. Either way, she had as much empathy as a medieval mace. She’d known she was different from when she was young. Her mother had forever been chastising her for not displaying the correct emotions. As a young girl, Mildred had merely asked if it meant the end of her lesson when her friend had broken her arm falling off a pony and expressed no concern whatsoever when her brother tripped on nothing and cracked his head on the sidewalk. She’d simply inquired if that had meant they were no longer going out for ice-cream anymore. So for as long as she could remember, Mildred Latrine had always been callous; the strife and worries of others were never of any concern to her at all, unless she was somehow directly impacted.

She’d learned to look after number one since the early days of her childhood. Perhaps this need wouldn’t have necessitated had she not been born with such an unfortunate surname, but she had and had had to act accordingly, or been plagued to death by the taunts and ridicule it provoked. All the kids in her elementary school had been played by the same set of rules. It was a survival of the fittest, and the soft kids either got tough or got beaten, every day of their lives. That was just the way it was. Rare ones reformed afterward, understood that those ways were cruel, but stuck with safety, and what was safer than being the bully?

In adulthood, the rules remained the same, even if the players were different and older now, and the playground that would serve as the battleground was no longer one with swings and slides, but boardrooms with chairs and tables where she still wasn’t afraid to resort to manipulation and bullying to get her own way if need be.

Mildred felt zero remorse for duping that admittedly vulnerable, but overly soft and gullible Longines Beaugosse either.

She refused to apologize for not needing the "kid's picture book" version of life. In her mind, people got what they got by _any_ means possible, and the "honest" were just too spineless to do otherwise. The law enforcers were just one step away from being the criminals themselves – look at that Phoenix Wright, the forging attorney whom Master Maya had held so dear (and _still_ did, the elder suspected)! The sardonic senior was certain the former defense lawyer was merely _one_ of the many legal men who led double lives; he’d just been _stupid_ enough to get caught! 

If there was one thing Mildred had learned in her long life thus far, it was that in this world, no matter what the romanticists and poets would have you believe, there was no such thing as actual selflessness and true love; just people unhesitatingly using other people. They were fools in denial if they thought otherwise, or perhaps in their mental weakness, they could not accept other people, or even themselves, for what they _truly_ were; their brains needed to construct complicated notions of things that did not and could not exist to soothe themselves somehow.

Cynical? Perhaps, but all she needed to do to reinforce her jaded beliefs was look at the history of failed marriages in Kurain, which had hence resulted in pure matriarchal society!

Mildred had never aspired for what most other women yearned for in life: a husband, children, and home of her own. She scoffed inwardly at those who did, witnessing as they only wound up being bitter, overly ambitious, _single_ mothers in Kurain, in the manner of Pearl’s mother, Morgan, a t _wo-time_ loser in the game of marriage!

_I don’t understand these faint-hearted, weak women who want a lifetime of slaving…and for what, pray? To raise kids that are just going to hate you, or be indifferent while you rot in an old folk’s home? No chance! If they want the ungrateful little brats, I don't care, not my problem. Now, if you don't mind, I've got some more people to maneuver and to scam. I just love Kurain’s steadfast resolve in never evolving past archaic tradition. It makes my job so easy. **Too easy**._

It was all too simple to gain trust – laughably so. First, ask a favor, the bigger the better – but be careful to lace it with flattery. Hardly a person in a hundred would spot it if done right. Hell, it’d worked for her for decades – why stop now when it always worked?

Mildred paused before entering the room, taking a moment to gaze up at the night sky, as dark as it should be with a green snake of light swimming into the horizon. It was at times like this, in remote Kurain Village, that she felt most content. The distance was but an illusion in the twenty-first century. Getting into someone's life, their head, was no more complicated than breathing.

Well, for _her_ , anyway.

Had it not been Longines she’d ensnared into her plot, it could just as easily have been someone else – some other unfortunate orphan of immeasurable wealth. She’d highlighted quite a few obituaries over the years, desperately seeking the perfect one to fit into her strategy, and would have kept on persevering until she’d found the right unsuspecting bait that bit. It was a game that ultimately brought such sweet rewards, and Mildred was the undefeated grandmaster of it.

It wasn’t as if she would be the _only_ one benefiting from all this hard work, after all. Was it so horrible that in doing all this for the better good of her village, _she too,_ could bask and reap in the victory of the spoils?

The village elder entered the hall, taking her place at the opposite head of the long table in the back while noting from the vacant chair at the front head that the Master still had not arrived. No matter, Maya would be on her way soon enough.

A supercilious smile crept on the old woman’s phizog as she propped her elbows on the table, putting together her long, bony fingers into a temple-like steeple.

Like a spider resting in its web, Mildred patiently awaited her prey.

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_** __  
Kurain Village  
March 1, 2025, 8:05 PM

“ _Why_ would the council call for a meeting so late, Mystic Maya?” The completely bewildered Pearl asked as she hurried alongside her cousin on the way to the meeting hall from Fey Manor. “Especially since we _just_ got back from an out of state conference earlier this evening! Don’t these mean old ladies care or think that you’d be tired? I know _I_ am! We haven’t even had dinner yet!”

“Hey, I thought _I_ was the one with the six stomachs who was always hungry!” The Kurain leader grinned at the 15-year-old, who stuck out her tongue playfully in response to the jibe. “Am sure this won’t take too long, Pearly. The chef can easily whip us up some noodles or a burger after the meeting.”

“Well, I _am_ your cousin, so the hearty appetite must run in the family!” Pearl exclaimed, patting her flat tummy. “And I sure hope so, Mystic Maya, because I need my nourishment – spirit channeling all week took _a lot_ out of me, and remember, I’m a growing girl, after all!”

“How can I forget? You’re like a noisy little calendar! _You’re_ getting older so it means _I_ am too, Missy!” Even as she kidded, there was an unmistakable look of maternal love in Maya’s eyes as she regarded the lovely young woman she’d essentially been raising for the past seven years as her biological daughter. Her little Pearly was no longer a child and was most definitely still growing. Thus far, nature and puberty had been quite kind indeed.

Remaining sweetly baby-faced despite her more matured facial structure, the traces of the little girl from yesteryear still lingered in Pearl’s smile and the willowy form. Another year and her curves would fill out a bit more, just enough to give her an adult shape. She had the trappings of womanhood already; dangling from the pretty pearl necklace Maya had gifted her for Christmas was her ever-present magatama, and her taffy-colored hair, so reminiscent of Mia’s, although still worn in its endearing, double-looped hairstyle, now touted a purple bead at the end of each long tendril hanging in the front of her rosy cheeks. The girl had a nose like a cartoon character, or one drawn by a lazy artist at least, the bridge was so low-profile as to be barely there at all; so on her flawless, porcelain-skinned visage, her nose was a pert bump just above her dusky pink lips, on which she wore just a hint of clear gloss. Her delicate, doll-like countenance neither bore nor required any artifices, except for a hint of mascara on her enormous, long-lashed amethyst gray eyes, her most dazzlingly prominent feature. It was just the right hint of make-up, enough to show she wasn't a kid, yet not so much as an older woman would wear.

The necromancer, of course, was biased in her observations, but as far as she was concerned, there were no two ways about it. Her darling Pearly was quite the budding beauty indeed.

The teen’s youthful exuberance put some extra pep in the psychic’s comparatively sluggish step. The world still excited the teen; she saw opportunities ahead, a life of good fun, and good health. The Master, who was indeed slightly worn out from the week-long convention, desperately needed her cousin’s energetic disposition to rub off on her, especially since she was about to head to an assembly with the Elders. The meeting was going to be chaired by the Dragon Lady, no less, which could never be a pleasant thing!

The village head heaved a soundless sigh as she and Pearl entered the Meeting Hall.

Being the Master of Kurain was an often unenviable position. The spirit medium might have considered giving it up had she not been so thoroughly aware of how her mother, Diego, Mia, and Phoenix had put themselves on the line so she could inherit her rightful position.

The outward hostility of the council had diminished since they’d witnessed the horror of Mildred’s ‘banishment’ to the icy outskirts of the village, and they had since softened their behavior and actions towards their leader. Nonetheless, they still often tried to undermine and overrule her decisions at every turn. Therefore, there had been no success Maya had ever earned in changing matters to her liking that hadn’t ever been hard-won nor required a draining rebuttal on her end!

At times, the necromancer wondered if she’d missed her calling; all this argumentative combat was reminiscent of her days in the courtroom at Phoenix’s side – she often thought she’d have made one helluva lawyer!

Nonetheless, she hated always needing to resort strong-arm tactics to get her way, considering _she_ was in charge! It made her feel in danger of becoming obsolete. She felt it when the elders began gleefully describing the happier, peaceful times of Kurain “back in the day,” giving her the feeling that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't do anything right or to anyone else’s liking. And even on the rare occasions that she _did_ make an overall favorable ruling, the unsolicited critiques remained. Either her decisions were mere copies of another more favored predecessor; her thoughts and ideas were still not yet adequate to the demands, or her ideas of modernization in such a place of ancient and sacred customs were something to be ashamed of.

Maya often felt unaccomplished as Master – as though something _always_ needed tending or fixing to, and it was never enough, no matter how hard she tried to keep on top of things. It seemed the council was always ranting on about how “this needs to change” and “that needs to be” and “this isn't good enough.”

Sadly, she was beginning to realize that no matter how much or what she had done, someone else somewhere had already done it, or done it better, in a manner that appeased the masses, not just herself (like the additions of the burger chef and Netflix) and having her personal desires fulfilled was nothing to be proud about. She had tried her best to create a Kurain that had kept up with the times, and was something amazing to behold, and was thriving and back on the maps as a respected place of channeling, yet it seemed she was still deemed a philistine who was out of her league, and outside her realm. She didn't like the feeling of having zero imagination, of having no good ideas, and she hated feeling as though she was being rained upon every time she placed an idea on the table. And she didn't want to have to put up with it anymore!

Therefore, she relished any opportunity to travel out of the village on retreats, conferences, and conventions – especially ones in LA every fortnight, where she could seek solace in Phoenix’s loving arms.

Ergo, she looked forward to this council meeting as much as she would her own hanging!

Thirteen expectant sets of eyes were on the Feys as they entered the room. Pearl, as second-in-command, took her rightful spot on the Master’s right-hand side, while Maya seated herself at the head of the table.

“Mystic Maya,” Mildred purred, smiling winsomely at her in a disturbing manner that made the psychic’s skin crawl. “How _nice_ of you to finally join us.”

The spirit medium detested it when her antagonist would smile, and almost preferred Mildred’s former overt antagonism in its stead. Every smile that lit up the Dragon Lady’s features was the wrong sort. It was as though the old woman ran purely on cold malice, rather than of any form of genuine affection with the action.

To squelch the sudden, uneasy, misgiving feelings stirring within her, the Master returned the other woman’s thinly-veiled barbed greeting with her own, no-nonsense one while she struggled to keep her tone pleasant.

“As you all know, Pearly and I were away all week in New Orleans, promoting the Kurain Channeling Technique and only arrived back in the village barely an hour ago for this _eleventh-hour_ meeting,” she answered coolly. “I do hope our _five-minute_ delay, in our efforts to freshen up somewhat from our travels, hasn’t inconvenienced anyone too badly?”

“Not at all, Mystic Maya,” assured Mystic Matilda, flashing a warning look at Mildew, which the old hag blithely ignored. “We shall try to keep things short and sweet thus, and appreciate your gracious accommodation tonight.”

“Well, I imagine you shall want to call it an early evening then so you and Mystic Pearl can retire your surely exhausted selves for the evening,” the Dragon Lady cooed with faux sympathy. “Therefore, I shall cut right to the chase, and without further ado, bring to light the reason for this meeting.”

“That would be most preferred, thank you.” The village leader crossed her arms and raised a brow at the village elder, whose unsettling smile only grew wider in response.

“This meeting, esteemed village leader,” Mildew rose from her seat and pointed at her foe. “Is _all_ about _you.”_

 _“Me?”_ The Burger Queen echoed, pointing to herself, as she was so caught off-guard.

“A pressing matter has come to the attention of the council,” Mildred went on. “You are soon to be pushing your third decade in life…”

“I’m turning _27_ next month!” Maya retorted hotly, without thinking. “That's _three_ whole years away!” 

_Also, that’s still a helluva lot younger than **you** , Dragon Lady, possibly by at least a half-century, even before I reverse the **2 and the 7** around in the case of **your** withered, spinster ass, you miserable, old as balls, She-Thing!_

“While not a requirement, according to Kurain tradition, it is desirous that Kurain Masters be married by or before the age of thirty,” Mildred continued, as though the Master hadn’t spoken. Her smiled had now morphed into a sneer as the blood visibly drained from the young woman’s face. “Why, Misty Fey was married and bore your elder sister by the time she was _19!”_

For the first time, Maya briefly pondered the possibility that her parents might have been an arranged marriage, especially if her mother had been married at such a young age.

_That’s just peachy. The **one** favorable thing these hags ever said about my mother, and **this** is what they come up with?! And the **sole** thing about her that I have no desire to emulate whatsoever?!_

“….As elders, it is our solemn and foresworn duty, to bear in mind what is in the best interests and operations of Kurain Village, and not only assist with its spiritual learnings but to also aid the Master in finding a suitable husband to secure the producing of a legitimate heir.”

The necromancer’s flabbergasted mind was reeling with matchless fury at this unprecedented rug being swept out from beneath her feet. _This_ was what her life had come to? Six blasted _y_ ears of selflessly putting the frigging village along with everyone else’s wants and needs before her own, in the name of this accursed position she’d _never_ wanted. And _now_ they were going to hound her to hurry up and produce an heir to the Kurain Master position as though they were still in the Dark Ages?! 

_Are you freaking fisting me?! Just because I’m 27 and still unmarried, they think that means time is running out?!_

Maya had to admit that until Phoenix, she’d had little interest in having children and if she’d prematurely passed away, Pearl was quite welcome to the Master position. But one of the main reasons she and her boyfriend had been bickering so much lately _was_ because she wanted to bear his children someday, which couldn’t very well happen with their current status in each other’s lives as undercover lovers!

An explosion of past events, scenes, and people flashed through the poleaxed spirit medium’s consciousness.

_I love you madly, without question or reason, and care naught if it’s for a lifetime or a season._

_I’m forever yours, faithfully._

_Nick_. The love of her life. The man she’d lost her mind and heart to nearly a decade ago. The man whose promise ring she was wearing, discreetly tucked away on a necklace, under her robes, along with the ever-present, _visible_ locket, swearing his everlasting love, that he’d bequeathed her on her 21st birthday.

 _Sweet Bouncing Baby Buddha! How can these wretched witches do this to me_? Her mind screamed frantically. Moreover, how could _Maya_ do such a thing to _Phoenix?_ What kind of choice was this?! Forsake their love, after everything they’d been through to be together, in the name of revered tradition and family honor, or risk complete ostracization and dishonor to her family name? 

Although she’d kept her relationship with him under wraps, after the awful day of her Master ceremony, and nobody in Kurain, save for Pearl, (who hadn’t breathed a word), knew about the two of them, the Kurain head wasn’t stupid enough to think that her lover hadn’t come into play when the elders had made this momentous decision. No doubt, the wizened harpies were concerned that the only male in the picture seemed to be that that good-for-nothing Phoenix Wright, who was worse than nobody. The level of ostracism they’d previously heaped on Misty Fey paled in comparison to the vile venom they’d intermittently spewed at the village leader about the “fraudulent ex-lawyer” during the irritating meetings they’d demanded over the years.

Now, in their attempts to put that last nail in the Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey coffin, as their final act of ultimate power and control over her, which had rescinded in the past five years, _this_ was what they had come up with as the final frontier. The diviner was certain it was nothing short of a sheer act of desperation that the elders were now trying to set up a traditional arranged marriage.

It didn’t matter. _This_ Master was going to _be_ the master of her own fate and when the time was right, marry for _love_ , and _not_ some antiquated concept of familial duty! There was absolutely _no_ other option for her, tradition and customs be _damned_. She was going to marry her Nick and that was _final!_

She was unaware that as she’d been gripping the locket in her hand, which was dangling freely around her neck, her mouth had fallen open in stunned horror, and her parted lips had subconsciously mouthed the word: _Phoenix._

They all saw it, and it was their turn to now look as gobsmacked as Maya undoubtedly had, save for the Dragon Lady. And it was now too late to retract it.

“ _Just_ as I thought,” Mildred snarled, folding her arms across her scrawny chest. “You’re still stuck on that disgraceful forging attorney, Phoenix Wright, _aren’t you_? Admit it! You _never_ ceased ties with him when we commanded you to, _did_ you, Mystic Maya?”

Her eyes widened at the sudden accusation, the guilt written all over her face as clear as day, and the elder stepped up her attack, full-throttle.

“I should have known! There’s no way anyone who wasn’t getting it regularly on the sly would have such a glowing complexion!”

She gasped and reeled back in shock at such blatant crudeness, finding herself speechless, even though her mind was screaming mindless obscenities which she yearned to fling at the foul-mouthed, dirty-minded old shrew.

“I wasn’t even sure until now, I was merely hazarding a guess,” Mildred added, her voice as cold as her words. "I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Mr. Wright is _not_ a person whom we would like affiliated with our village!” 

The diviner mentally willed her shaking knees to stop knocking, as her whole body was trembling now, she was so livid, and silently ordered the rest of her to fall in line. Retreat would be a disaster, a show of weakness, an inlet for the enemy to surge through. Nothing on her face betrayed her fear at being so outnumbered, and she composed her face to ensure it was a mask of defiance and surety. _Never back down or let them see you sweat_ was her motto. This was why _she_ was the fearless village leader. She’d overcome way more fearsome obstacles in her life than the likes of _The Dragon Lady_ , and Maya would ensure she’d find a way to deal with Mildew accordingly for her audacious, underhanded masterminding of this magnitude.

However, there was a time and a place for that later, and at that moment, _this sure as hell_ wasn't it.

After all, for a woman of not even 30 who had _thrice_ been on trial for murder, kidnapped, possessed by a demon, almost murdered, nearly frozen to death and woken up from a coma, Mildred Latrine was nothing but a _fart in a hurricane!_

The Master, at last, found her voice.

“That’s _not_ your call to make and you damn well know it! This is _my_ village and I shall – _befriend_ whom I bloody well please!”

There was _no way_ she was going to elaborate on the fact that Phoenix was so much more than merely her friend at _that_ moment. Not with the despicable, lewd way the decrepit wyvern had just painted their relationship before the council.

_And in front of little Pearly, no less!_

“Have you been lying to us all this time about severing ties with him, Mystic Maya?” Mystic Matilda asked quietly, but with just as much intensity as Mildred. “It was bad enough that you continued to call him your _friend_ after that … scandalous incident six years ago, but now _this_?" She shook her head in dismay. "Surely you understand that associations with a man like this, being a woman of your stature and caliber, can be an embarrassment to Kurain Village…”

“An _embarrassment_ is an understatement!” Mildred yapped, interrupting the other woman. “It’s a flat out _disgrace_ to this village, is what it is, and a _disgrace_ to you as Master!”

Out of the corner of her eye, the psychic saw Pearl push back her sleeve in a rather threatening manner, and shook her head vigorously at her. The girl reluctantly obeyed and rolled her sleeve back down, clearly annoyed, although she joined her cousin in glaring daggers at Mildred.

Maya was so furious at with her adversary that she temporarily took leave of her senses. She leaped to her feet and slammed the table with her hands, reminiscent of Phoenix when he had been a lawyer, all the while ignoring the stinging pain in her palms the action caused.

 _Ouch, that freaking hurts! How the **hell** does Nick keep doing that?! Does he have hands of steel or something?!_

_“Objection!_ Stop this slander immediately! If you had a mind even _anywhere near_ as big as that _mouth_ of yours, Mildred, you’d bloody well realize that Nick was _framed!_ Everyone with half a brain knows that, except for you!” She shouted, pointing her finger, courtroom style at her enemy, her voice shaking with rage. “Despite this being _my_ village, I _have_ at least obeyed the council’s wishes and not allowed him to set foot here since the day you cast him out like a stray dog, and kept my dealings with him discrete all this time, keeping my so-called esteemed position in mind. And yet you’re _still_ content to keep bad-mouthing him to me like this? He’s lambasted himself enough these past six years! He doesn’t need the likes of _you_ coming along and giving him a hand!"

All the women in the room stared at Maya, mouths all agape in consternation, except for Matilda, who was staring down at the table as if in deep thought, although the corner of her mouth was twitching, as though fighting the urge to break out into a smile of admiration.

Mildred was the first to speak. 

“Sit down and hold your tongue!" She barked in command, undaunted by the passionate outburst.

In all actuality, what the spirit medium fervently wanted to do was _stick out_ her tongue out at all of them, while accompanying it with the raising of a particular finger, to boot! Conversely, the small, remaining rational part of her knew that it wouldn't help the situation at all, and would only make things worse.

Nevertheless, she ensured she remained standing as the elders began fiercely whispering and muttering amongst one another, until Mildred, the last to come to her senses, loudly cleared her throat for their attention. Immediately, the room turned silent and the women all turned to gauge her reaction.

Opting to ignore the Master’s flare-up, Mildred continued with the topic at hand. She knew that any candidate _she_ came up with for potential matching would immediately be disqualified by her adversary in a nanosecond, on the mere basis that the antipathy between the two was _100% mutual!_ So while _Ketsuno Ana_ was indeed a very real matchmaker, Mildred had no desire to do anything to _legitimately_ have Longines be taken out of the running as the sole participant in this competition! Ergo, she planned on showing Maya a few profiles of _less-than-desirable_ suitors, all of whom would so _blatantly_ pale in comparison to the successful _hair heir_ that the master would have no choice _but_ to choose Longines as the best prospect for marriage while being fooled into thinking it’d been _her_ choosing! It was the perfect plan with every base covered, it was just a matter of _convincing the damn stubborn girl to comply!_

"This was not a hastily made decision, Mystic Maya, or one we are taking lightly. I had taken the liberty of recruiting the services of a professional matchmaker from Japan, named _Ketsuno Ana_. She has been in the business practice of _miai_ for decades and has been responsible for many successful marriages, both in and out of Kurain. She has been notified and is searching for interested candidates even as we speak.”

The necromancer felt her legs turn to cooked spaghetti then. This wasn’t all just a bad dream or a mere threat. It was all _very real_. This was _happening_. She gripped the edge of the table for strength, praying her legs wouldn’t give out and that she could manage to remain upright, even as she gawked at Mildew in disbelieving silence, hoping she had heard the elder wrongly.

The Dragon Lady, however, seemed to revel in her stupefied state. “We are just waiting on _Ketsuno_ to submit a list of short profiles to the person who requested the miai – in this case, _me_ , on behalf of _you_ , which should be coming in any day now.” Mildred’s tone was smug even as she smirked at the diviner’s helpless expression. “You will have quite a variety of _expertly_ _selected_ suitors to choose from, Mystic Maya.”

The Kurain head felt her eyes growing red and the stinging sensation of tears burning behind them, which she would have rather died than let the old witch see fall.

"In the meantime," Mildred prattled on. “As we are in the process of getting this ball rolling, things are a bit rushed, as we'd like to have this wrapped up as soon as possible. Unfortunately, you will need to tell your _friend_ , Mr. Wright that he will have to maintain his _friendship_ status henceforth, _permanently_. However, there will be no _objections_ from the council _whatsoever_ should you decide to wisely acquiesce with the original orders and sever ties with that no-goodnik completely…”

The bit her tongue, trying to hold the tears that threatened to leave her now burning eyes. She was aware of every gaze in the room, including the stunned, dismayed one of the mute Pearl, was glued unwaveringly to the Master as to they awaited her response to this fallen hammer.

All the psychic would think of was how sickened to the pit of her stomach she’d felt when she’d first discovered Phoenix had been disbarred, and was consciously aware, despite her misery, that this _present_ feeling of being sick compared to six years earlier, was intensified a tenfold. But, perhaps most of all, she was aware of the cold rage that was building up inside her.

"Mystic Maya?" The teen asked worriedly, placing a hand on her arm. "Are you all right?"

The psychic’s dark eyes swung over in the teenager’s direction briefly, so blurred by her withheld tears she could barely see. Seeing the distraught look on her beloved cousin’s face gave her the gumption to find her voice at last.

“ _Never_.” She hissed, raising her chin and glowering hatefully at Mildew.

“I _beg_ your pardon?” The Dragon Lady dramatically clapped a hand to her chest, clearly slighted.

"You heard me." She didn’t even blink as she kept her infuriated eyes locked on Mildred’s, which were two like two icy bottomless pits of black coal. She couldn’t have cared less. “After all that’s happened, you have one _hell_ of a lot of nerve, _still_ trying to play God and dictate what I do with my life, Mildew, as well as going behind my back like this! Regardless, I’ll spare you the trouble.”

Her voice raised a notch.

“I will _never_ agree to go along with this! And there’s _nothing_ you can do to make me!” 

It was the truth – in a manner of speaking. In all actuality, the Elder Council couldn’t _force_ Maya to do anything, as she was Master. However, the adage of with _great power comes great responsibility_ was all too true in this instance, and what would ultimately leave the village leader vulnerable to eventual persuasion. The position conferred not only international power and status but also required a lot of ugly politics with the various powerbrokers and hangers-on involved in Kurain and its myriad branch-family towns. This deeply-entrenched network of old village elders mostly appeared to have been loyal to Morgan Fey, and now Mildred, and hence, still regarded the Fey heiress with the same disrespect as her disgraced mother. While the master didn't _have_ to do anything they said, they could make still life unbearable for her and spread gossip… and _worse_.

Her thoughts switched back to Phoenix, and the genuine fear she saw in his eyes that he wasn’t skilled enough to mask from her when it came to Kristoph Gavin. What if word got out she was still with Nick and this paranoid fear of his was legitimate and it came around to bite them both?

"No one is _making_ you do a thing, Mystic Maya," Mildred replied in the irksome, condescendingly patient tone one normally reserved for a slow child. "In the history of Kurain Village, no person has ever made the Master do anything against her will. However, it is _because_ they are the Master that they must do what they are honor-bound to do, for the sake of the village, in a manner much like a mother making a sacrifice for the better good of her child. After all – and this is hardly a _slanderous_ statement in this instance as it happens to be the truth: _Did or did not_ your mother, Mystic Misty, _willingly_ disappear, because of the shame she brought upon the village for her mistake? Need we fear that _you too_ , will abdicate in the same manner and have history repeat itself, leaving this Kurain once again in shambles?”

The diviner felt her battle against her pent-up tears losing ground entirely. With a barely muffled cry, she shoved back her chair from the table, knocking it over in the process, as she bolted to the door, ignoring Pearl calling after her, her whole body shaking with the effort of suppressing her sobs. The sound of her footsteps and the dull thud of wood upon the tatami mat were the only sounds inside the room where the elders remained, with not even the sounds of breathing heard within that room of deadly silence.


	73. If I Could Turn Back Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought the only way I can repay you for the favor you’ve shown me all these years, is to stay by your side until the day I die, but Dear, you never know how a person’s fate turns out. And even with all that, I love you and you’ll always have a place in my heart.”

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
Wright Talent Agency_  
February 17, 2025, 9:00 AM

Phoenix was in unusually good spirits that morning as he saw his daughter off to her school bus. Normally not a morning person in the slightest, he found himself whistling cheerfully as he sipped his coffee and went through his emails, which he hadn’t done in some time.

His mind was partially preoccupied reliving the memories of one of the rare elusive whole weekends he had had with Maya for that Valentine’s Day weekend. Business at the bar had been slower than usual, what with it having been the romantic Hallmark Holiday, so the usual drunkards would be doing their weekend festivities elsewhere with their sweethearts. Ergo, there had been no problem booking it off, and Trucy had been happy to spend the weekend with Pearl at the Gumshoes, blissfully oblivious to her Daddy’s passionate three-day romp within that very building.

Now, as he vividly recalled some of the wilder, toe-curling moments over the weekend, Phoenix couldn’t resist smirking to himself as he scrolled through the usual junk mails offering to make him more of a well-hung, everlasting, thrill-banger in the sack.

_Don’t think I need any help in **that** department if these recent tell-tale marks on my back from my little wildcat are anything to go by! Ouch, it still stings a bit! Gotta make sure I don’t let Trucy accidentally see me shirtless for a bit until these marks have healed – may be hard to convince her that I fell backward onto a rake!_

Phoenix’s cheery reverie, which included the humming of the slightly naughty rock anthem, “Rock You Like a Hurricane” by the Scorpions, came to an abrupt halt as one particular email from Edgeworth, dated the morning of February 14, and caught his eye.

Phoenix’s eyes widened as he read the email. Edgeworth knew just how to explain things so that while the message was an obvious reminder of matters that had nearly completely slipped Phoenix’s mind from six years ago without coming right out and saying it, it was done in a manner that appeared to be just a simple FYI.

He shook his head and smiled slightly. 

_Edgy can be so diplomatic and tactful when he chooses to be, which he so more often than not never is with me…_

He closed his eyes and found himself falling back in time, to February 2019 and the harrowing events at Hazakura Temple that had changed his life, as well as Maya’s and Pearl’s, forever.

The memories were still exceptionally painful to relive. 

Mia’s lover, Diego Armando, aka Godot, had killed the Fey sister’s mother, Misty Fey, when, in her demon-possessed state, she had nearly killed Maya while channeling Dahlia Hawthorne. Iris Hawthorne had helped move the body and fabricate the evidence and had gone to jail for this crime along with Godot. Due to the circumstances of the killing, which had been in defending Maya's life, his comatose state which he’d fallen into after being poisoned, and his exemplary history as a defense attorney, Maya had begged Phoenix to plead his sentence, which had originally been 15 years. Before he’d lost his badge, there had been two final motions Phoenix had made as a defense attorney. One had been for an early release for Godot, which Edgeworth had followed through with on his behalf, as well as for Iris, who had been sentenced to 10 years for her crimes.

The first motion had been successful. How else to explain the mysterious, anonymous monthly packages he’d been getting since Christmas? January’s coffee (which quick online research had told him costed _$100/lb_!) had been _Panama Ironman Camilina Geisha_ from Boquete, Panama, and on his doorstep that morning, which he was now sipping, was from the bag of beans called _El Morito Pandora de Fatima_ from Mataquescuintla, Guatemala.

Phoenix shook his head and chuckled, chastising himself for taking this long to finally cluing into who his Secret Santa was.

_Oh, Godot, living the dream of traveling the Latin Americas in search of the perfect coffee blend. Clearly, he doesn’t hate me anymore. God bless him!_

But, back to a more sobering notion, and the purpose of his best friend’s email. Iris.

 ** _Just a quick heads up Wright_** , Edgeworth had written. **_Our other appeal, which you and I placed six years ago, finally is seeing light. Iris Hawthorne is getting some time off for good behavior. It appears that they’re feeling what with being a model prisoner, on top of her non-existent criminal record, Ms. Hawthorne had done her due time and paid for her crimes._**

Phoenix’s mind reeled at the unanticipated news. He wasn’t certain how he felt about it, didn’t know if he should have been happy or scared. While it’d been in the back of his mind many times to go visit Iris over the years, he’d always wound up balking in the end. It was partially stemmed from his guilt about the whole incident – he’d sworn to her he’d help her, but then soon after had lost the one thing that had any influence that could have helped with getting her out of there any sooner. It was one of the major things that had depressed him the most when he’d lost his badge. He’d always tried so hard to be a man of his word and had promised Iris to try to help her in any way possible, yet he’d failed her. For all he knew, she would have been resentful and blamed him, he worried about how she would feel when they would meet again.

He rubbed his chin as he mulled this over, lost in thought and memories.

Lovely Iris. She’d been his lover when he was an art student in college but had hidden her true identity from him the whole time. Phoenix had been relieved when he’d, at last, discovered he hadn’t fallen in love with the psychotic Dahlia after all, but her sweet, gentle, mild-mannered identical twin sister. But he’d also been dumbfounded when he’d realized the full weight of Iris’s deceit. He knew Iris had always been concerned over this, and been worried that Phoenix would never forgive her duplicity, no matter how noble her intentions, and the fact that her lies had ultimately hurt and devastated them both when she’d opted not to reveal the truth even after her sister had been caught.

But in truth, he’d forgiven her long ago, and had often blamed himself for what happened to her and Godot. While Mia, and later, Maya, had tried their best to convince him he’d done the right thing, in the back of his mind there was always doubt. As well as that nagging guilt that he’d failed his ex-girlfriend in the end.

As though reading his mind, as he often seemed to be able to even from across the globe, Edgeworth’s next lines addressed his tumultuous emotions.

**_You can stop with the self-blame now, Wright, and at last lay off beating yourself up, as I know you have been all this time, even though you’ve never said as much. I know you too well._ **

_Ah, Edgy, as astute as ever. I suppose that’s one of the reasons why we’re best friends. Thank you, old friend._

Phoenix smiled ruefully and continued reading. 

**_I don’t know if you’ve been to see her during her incarceration, but there’s something I feel you should know, with the hopes that this in no way is seen as my attempt to complicate matters between you and Ms. Fey, whom you know I hold very dear. But in my attempts to assuage your overly-active guilty conscience, Wright, I’m telling you now what I’ve known for some time now. From the last time I spoke with Ms. Hawthorne, she’s made it very clear that she not only still loves you, but in no way, shape or form blames you for anything. I tell you this because I know a part of you is also still hurting from that incident. Go and see her Wright. While you can’t turn back time, this is the chance that neither of you had to figure things out after you discovered the truth._** **_It’s so important to get closure with an ex, regardless of how you feel about her now, to completely move on in your life without needing to look back. Just trust me on this one._**

**_Best,  
Miles Edgeworth_ **

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Iris Hawthorne_** _  
Detention Center_  
February 21, 2025, 2:00 PM

Phoenix leaned up against the building and took in a breath. He had been hoping for this day for a long time, yet now that he was there, he was uneasy and slightly scared. Another reason he was worried was that Iris had been a shrine maiden at Hazakura Temple and he wasn’t sure what her next plan of action would be, and if they included going back to Sister Bikini to continue her nun duties or something else entirely.

“Iris…” he stared up into the bright blue sky. “I wish I knew for sure what to do…”

He felt so conflicted. So much had happened in the past few years, he felt he was no longer the same person. What if she didn’t like what he had become? What if she didn’t feel the same way after all this time?

 _How am I going to face her..? She’s going to be so disappointed_ … Phoenix’s thoughts were a mess as he waited for the guard to get Iris Hawthorne. _Regardless of Edgeworth’s reassuring email, she was still counting on me… And I failed her._ He laughed bitterly to himself. _Oh well, everybody’s good at **something**! And these past six years have proved that I’m better at disappointing people better than anyone I know!_

He knew maybe he should have visited her cell long ago, but nothing less than sheer cowardice had prevented him from doing so. What if she’d gotten mad at him and told him to drop dead? What if she’d started crying? Behind the glass was safe, yet aggravating. So much had changed for them…and what he was about to say to her was so monumentally huge for the both of them, for so many parties involved…he had no idea how she was going to react.  
  
“ _Phoenix?_ ” A high chime voice suddenly spoke. 

Phoenix looked up, and there was his ex-girlfriend, former nun of Hazakura Temple, Sister Iris. She was as exquisite as ever, with none of the hardened edges he’d imagined time in prison would have had on her. The same huge, long-lashed brown eyes, black hair in braids on the top of her head, the rest of her hair flowing around her ethereal, delicately featured face. He’d gotten so accustomed to seeing her in her hood and acolyte dress of the Fey Clan from the last time he’d seen her, that the sight of her in the stark orange prison garb was jarring.

“Phoenix, how have you been? You haven’t been here in a while. I’ve been worried.”  
  
“I’m so sorry Iris,” he sighed. “I’ve had a lot on my mind. There’s…. some bad news I have to tell you.”  
  
“It’s about your disbarment isn’t it?” She asked, looking down.  
  
Phoenix was startled. “H-how did you…?”

“While we don’t hear much in here, dear, there _have_ been rumors,” she admitted. “I heard about the Gramarye Trial, the forged evidence, all because they’ve been questioning everyone involved in all your cases in the past few years. It angered Mr. Godot when he heard about this, you would have been surprised how he defended you…”  
  
“ _Oh_ _God_ , Iris!” He groaned. “I probably just made things worse for you!”  
  
“No Feen _– Phoenix_. I got _myself_ into this mess.” She sniffed, trying to hold back her tears. “Just please, tell me in your own words what happened. I don’t believe a word of the rumors. I want to know what happened. The truth. And I want to hear it from _you_.”

“I was stupid, Iris.” Phoenix dropped his gaze. “And gullible. I fell right into someone’s trap. I used evidence I didn’t check the credibility of and presented it without thinking.” He went on to explain the events that transpired that day. “I was set up and used, and I can’t believe I fell for it!”  
  
The raven-haired beauty listened and nodded. “I felt the same way when I discovered my sister’s true nature. I believed in her, she was my _sister_ after all… But I felt used and betrayed just like you do now. And I know there are many things I did wrong, like assisting in stealing father’s diamond, deceiving you…” She sniffled then, and looked at him with glittering, pellucid eyes, sparkling with repressed tears.  
  
“Please, stop berating yourself over me, Iris. Those months we had together were among the happiest of my life.” His expression was one of pure fondness as he gazed at her. “Even if you were just staying around me just to get that necklace back… it was worth it because I got to spend the time with you.”  
  
“ _Feenie…_ ” she blushed slightly, then placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry I…”  
  
“Honestly, it’s fine…and believe me, I’ve been called worse,” he assured her, smiling. “I know now it was you that came up with that nickname and it was you I was with all that time. I’d like it if you call me ‘Feenie’ from now on, as whenever you do get out of here I’d like to spend some time with you, at the very least as my friend.”

“Oh, _Feenie_ …” She was almost crying. “You have no idea how happy I am to find that out. I thought you hated me for deceiving you.”  
  
He shook his head.

“No, I forgave you for that. That’s why ever since you were sentenced I was trying everything to shorten your time… but the most was down to 10 years before my badge was taken away from me… If only I still had it and hadn’t lost it like the fool I was!” He banged the counter. “I failed you, Iris I’m so sorry…”  
  
“Feenie… _Please_ …” She whimpered. “If you can’t prove you were tricked there isn’t much you can do. And it’s OK. I’ll serve my sentence and get out of your way if you wish. I’ll go back to the temple…”  
  
“ _Objection **!**_ ” Phoenix suddenly raised his voice. “Er, sorry. Guess even after six years I’m not out of the habit! But listen, Iris, please believe me when I say that I don’t _want_ you to go away. I just told you that. And I promise you – I will cease feeling guilty, but only if _you_ do as well.”  
  
“ _Huh?_ ” The soft-spoken girl shivered slightly, still shaken from his impromptu loud shout.  
  
“I’m talking about how you still feel remorseful for being my ‘Dollie’ only to get that necklace back.” He reminded her.  
  
She cracked a smile. “So if I finally forgive myself, you’ll forgive yourself?”  
  
“It’s a fair trade, is it not? I’ll try to visit more often… Oh though next time I come I have someone for you to meet.”  
  
“Oh?” Iris blinked.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve sort of acquired a daughter.” Phoenix rubbed the back of his head.  
  
“ _What?!?_ ” Her doe eyes widened.  
  
“Trucy Enigmar, the defendant’s daughter. She was abandoned that day,” he explained. “She had no living relatives, so I put in the paperwork and adopted her.”  
  
“That’s so sweet of you, Feenie.” Iris smiled softly. “You still have that big, beautiful heart of yours, despite everything that’s happened to you. I’m happy to see that hasn’t changed.”  
  
“Trucy’s almost 14 now, and while she’s a handful, she’s also very innovative.” Phoenix was in full proud father mode. He reached for his wallet and showed her the photo of the teenager, in full blue top hat and cape magician mode.

“Oh, she’s so pretty!” Iris exclaimed, looking delighted. “You’re going to have to beat the boys off with a stick pretty soon, you know!”

 _She and Pearls both! But Maya seems to think it’s cruel and unusual punishment to lock them both into a convent until they’re thirty_! 

“She made this for me when she was eight. I’ve never taken it off since.” He gestured to his beanie. “Truce also revamped the office and has a job as a magician like her biological father was. She even talked me into converting my old law office into the Wright Talent Agency. Since then, I’ve been honing my piano playing skills at this bar, which are still subpar, but good enough to Boris and Natasha to get paid for it.”

Iris looked at him blankly. “Er, you work for cartoon characters?”

“Pretty much,” he said lightly. “Let’s just say they’re very _animated_ Russians who don’t have the same high standards for their pianists as we Americans do, shall we?”

There was no reason, Phoenix figured, to let a delicate flower such as Iris know about his shady poker playing dealings. She was one of the few people out there whose opinion of him didn’t seem to have lessened at all, and as pathetic as it seemed, he yearned to keep it that way!

“I’m sure you aren’t as bad a player as you think you are,” Iris said kindly. “You’ve always been so humble, Feenie. You probably have some latent artistic talents that were still untapped. I remember you were one heck of an artist back in college before you decided on the legal path.”

 _Heck_. Phoenix smirked. _Man, she really is a nun by habit, wasn’t she? Couldn’t even say H-E-Double hockey sticks. Hey, look at me, being so gosh darn punny at the most inappropriate of times!  
_  
“I guess having to memorize all those legalities and laws came in handy for this unwanted second career of mine,” he just smiled modestly. “I can’t read music worth a lick. I play entirely by ear. My daughter seems to think I’m not half bad though.” _Although, that certainly would explain my ability to at least recognizably play that infamous Bruno Mars song for Maya, as well as that Dirty Dancing and Journey song, after having just heard them a handful of times!_  
  
She giggled.

“Well, it’s good Trucy’s trying to get your mind off not being a lawyer anymore.”  
  
“Yeah but I’m hopeless as anything else, I wasn’t even that good of a lawyer.” He snorted. “You’re being too generous. I was a lousy art student, even in college.”  
  
“Maybe you should try something in another area?” Iris suggested. “I remember all those things I tried when I was posing as Dahlia in college, just to explore things? Remember when I took those piano lessons?”  
  
“Yes, I remember sitting by you as you played. You were always so beautiful, and the melody you could play was amazing, with so few lessons,” he recalled, smiling at the memory. “That’s when I would say you looked like an angel.”  
  
“I remember all too well.” She blushed. “I wasn’t very good though.”

“Better than anything _I_ could ever play, even though _I_ get paid for it.” Phoenix grinned. “But I also recall that you liked me calling you an angel, and yet you always acted funny when I did call you _Dollie_ , which now makes complete sense. Oh, Iris, it must have been hard for you, hearing your sister’s name like that all the time.”  
  
“It was worth it though.” Iris smiled tenderly. “After all, what’s in a name?”

“I should come up with a new name, just for the sake of it, and put that old one behind us…” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmm…is _Rissy_ too simple?”

“No! It’s perfect!” Iris smiled widely. “But, Feenie, I do have one more thing to confess.” She looked down then and blushed gorgeously.  
  
 _More confessions?_ He blinked. _Was there a third Hawthorne triplet in the mix I didn’t know about until now?!_

“OK, what is it?”  
  
“Remember how I told you I couldn’t get that necklace back, so I stayed with you all that time during those eight months?”  
  
“Well yeah, every time you asked I thought you just were worried I hated it.” Phoenix gave a rueful chuckle.  
  
“I purposely prolonged it.” Iris looked away in embarrassment. “My sister caught on. I could have pressed you more, or just plain stole it a few times. But after just a few weeks with you… I didn’t want our time together to end. That’s why Dahlia took things into her own hands. She knew I had fallen in love with you, and if she revealed she was going to kill you, I would have stopped her.”  
  
Now it was Phoenix’s turn to blush. “I-Iris…”

“Think about it Feenie, enough of those… Times in your dorm room where we…. _You know_ …” She was turning bright red now. “I could have snuck out with the necklace, but I didn’t. You were my _first_ , you know.”

“You were mine, too,” he whispered.

“I was so happy with you. I knew the moment I gave my sister the necklace, she’d take my place and break up with you, and I’d be sent back to the temple.”  
  
“I think I understand now.” Phoenix scratched the back of his neck. “Though I have to admit I’m…conflicted, you must understand. I thought you were gone. I thought you were Dahlia, the woman who tried to murder me and was in prison at one point. I don’t know if I can just jump back to over a decade ago…”  
  
“I _do_ understand, Feenie. And I’m willing to give you the time, and the distance if you need it. Just know that in all these years I’ve never stopped loving you.” She pressed her hand against the glass.  
  
He lifted his hand to match hers. “And a part of me has always had a special place for you in my heart as well, and always will, Iris. It’s _because_ of this soft spot I have for you that I did whatever I could for you to help you out…so I’m pleased to tell you that despite _my_ grievous misfortune, I have some good news for _you,_ though.”

“What’s that, Feenie?”

“Even though I’m no longer a practicing attorney, my colleague Miles Edgeworth still is. I put the process of your appeal in play right before I lost my badge, as the last thing I did before being disbarred, and he continued with the appeal on my behalf. Based on your non-existent criminal history and your unlikelihood of repeat offense, it looks like your parole has been granted. You should be out of here in a fortnight.” 

Tears of gratitude filled her beautiful eyes. “Oh Feenie, thank you,” she whispered. “I can’t believe after what I’ve done, you still went and did this for me. I am forever in your debt, love. If there’s ever anything I can do for _you_ at all…”

 _Give me strength_ , Phoenix silently prayed, to whatever forces that might have been listening. He didn’t want to come across as capitalizing on Iris’s current vulnerable state while being incarcerated or appear to be taking advantage of the fact that she still had feelings for him.

But he couldn’t help how he felt, or who he loved.

“Actually, Iris, there is something that would make me a _very_ happy man. I know this is sudden and unexpected, but I really hope the answer will be yes…”

Iris’s eyes widened in surprise as she listened. Then they began to shine with the limpid adoration and affection of a woman who still loved a man desperately, even a decade later. Before she could reply though, fate once again decided to be the bitch that it always had been, in the form of the warden, who chose that _exact_ moment to announce that their time was up. Phoenix barely restrained from pounding at the glass in agitation.

“Iris, I promise I’ll be back soon. I’ll bring Trucy next time so you can meet her,” he vowed, rising from his seat. “And I’ll be there the day you’re released to pick you up, I swear.” _I hope the suspense doesn’t kill me in the meantime while I await her answer…_  
  
Iris smiled softly. “Feenie, anything for you.” She once again placed her hand on the glass that kept them apart. Then, a small smile playing upon her lips, she surreptitiously gave a tiny nod of her head. His earnest eyes betraying a myriad of emotions as he looked at her, Phoenix met with her hand for one last time, before his former love had to be led away.

He then slowly headed out, his mind racing with the events that had just happened, as he contemplated what his next steps would be now that he knew that Iris had said _yes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm a Rock and Roll freak...if you don't know the song "Rock You Like a Hurricane" by the Scorpions, I suggest you look up the lyrics...seriously sexy.


	74. Suddenly These Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I stain the floor with my love. It runs from my mouth and I choke on the air. It bleeds from my ears and drips from my chin. My head hangs low, heavy with thoughts of you.”

**_Maya Fey_**  
 _Fey Manor_  
March 1, 2025, 9:00 PM

Maya had been mindless to everything around her when she'd raced from the Meeting Hall earlier and to the sanctity of her chambers. Slamming and locking the door behind her, she'd flung herself onto her bed and sobbed into her pillow about the impossible dilemma she'd been thrust into and the feelings of being completely distraught and overwhelmed about what to do.

A little while later, she heard the timid knock at her door and Pearl's gentle, pleading voice, begging her to open up, but she couldn't face anyone just then.

Through a voice hoarse from weeping, she croaked out: "Pearly, I'll be alright, don't worry. Go get something to eat and just head to bed. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow. Be a good girl for me, and don't talk to anyone or do anything silly trying to defend me or Nick's honor, OK? I love you."

"OK, Mystic Maya," Pearl's soft cadence held a mixture of defeat and sadness to it, which only made a fresh bout of tears well up in the Master's eyes. "I'll see you in the morning. I love you, too."

As she heard the quiet sounds of her retreating cousin's footsteps, Maya wiped the last of her tears angrily with the sleeve of her robe and reached for her cell phone on the night table. She knew it was a Saturday night, and Phoenix was still working at the bar. He wouldn't be done till 2:00 and depending on if he caught a ride home with his friend Tyler or got stuck taking the bus, he would be unable to call her until nearly 3:00 in the morning when he got home. However, she was overcome with the desperate need to hear his voice, even on his answering machine.

Besides, surely if he knew that if she'd called him while knowing he was on the clock and hadn't been able to wait till his shift was over, it _had_ to be important. Maybe he'd even call her during break or on his way home so she could connect with him that much earlier, and regale him the horrid details of the evening and the ensnared tangle she was now in. Together, they would find a solution, she was sure of it.

She struggled to keep her speech leveled, not wanting to alarm him too much when he got the message yet ensured the urgency was evident in her tone as she spoke quickly.

"Hey, it's me. Please call me as soon as you get this message. It doesn't matter what time it is. It's very important, and I need to talk to you real bad. I'll be waiting for your call. And Nick, baby, I love you."

The next few hours seemed to crawl by. Maya couldn't remember a time before when she'd seen the second hand on her wall clock _ever_ move with _such painstaking slowness_ as the minutes, then hours, crept by at a snail's pace.

She tried to kill time by napping, watching TV, even reading some cheap, tawdry romance novels she'd picked up at the airport newsstand during her last business trip, but when she looked at the time again, it was only 1:30 am.

Still no call or text from Phoenix.

He rarely did contact her from work, ergo she hadn't really expected him to ring yet, especially with Saturday being the busiest night of the week. Nevertheless, Maya was inexplicably disappointed. Nick was her _soulmate_ , _dammit_! Didn't he _sense_ she needed him? Couldn't he have checked his phone, _just once_ , on the way to the bathroom or something, and shot her back a quick text? Surely he wasn't a _camel_ who stored up liquids for _months on end_ and had needed to relieve himself at least _once_ between the hours of 6:00 PM and 2:00 AM?!

Maya realized in her frenzy that she was being irrational, and let out a rueful chuckle, despite herself. She was being ridiculous! Phoenix was just busy; of course, he wasn't _ignoring_ her! Hell, he'd even been in touch with her via text and email while she'd been out of town in New Orleans. Not too frequently, if she _really_ thought about it though, and only in short but sweet replies to _her_ instigated contact efforts for the past few weeks, come to think of it …

_What in the name of Elton John's codpiece?! We've actually only spoken once or twice since the Monday after Valentine's Day!_

Every day since the Hallmark Holiday, Maya had tried, without success, to contact her boyfriend. She'd always left messages, but instead of calling her back that night, more often than not, she'd only get a quick text reply the next morning, explaining he'd worked later than planned or had simply crashed and burned the moment he'd gotten home.

This ducking and dodging MO of Phoenix's suspiciously reminded her of the two weeks he'd been entirely MIA back when he'd first been disbarred, although not as blatant. He wasn't _ignoring_ her presently, per se. Nonetheless, there seemed to be something incomprehensibly … _off_ with Phoenix lately. And for the life of her, Maya couldn't quite place her finger on it or figure out the cause!

It was beyond was bizarre. In the past, before being given the reprieve of Edgeworth's condo as a safe haven, she and Nick had gone much longer than a mere fortnight without seeing one another. Hell, at one point, they'd gone _nine months_ at a time!

And even then, during one of their most challenging times as a couple, Maya _still_ hadn't had these impromptu shadows of misgivings dwelling within her!

 _Stop it, Maya!_ She scolded herself. _You're just overreacting due to being so upset and emotional because of The Dragon Lady and are blowing things out of proportion, as usual! Nick isn't avoiding you! He **loves** you! There's surely a logical explanation for his monosyllabic texts and subdued tone that you've noticed since you went to Louisiana!_

Maya sat and impatiently stewed for the next hour. She thought 2:30 would never come, but of course, it did. She sprang like a tightly coiled spring at her phone when it finally rang at 2:31, answering on the first ring.

"Nick, thank _God_ you called!" She cried by way of greeting. "I've nearly been losing my mind!"

"I got your message, and here I am, returning your call," Phoenix replied, almost casually, as though oblivious to the distraught note in her voice. "What's gotten you so worked up, Maya?"

She frowned into the phone. It wasn't as though her swain didn't call her by name anymore since they'd been together – naturally, he did – since she'd never been able to come up with a more affectionate nickname for him other than _Nick,_ in the past six years. It was just that whenever Maya was upset or sad, he always _sensed_ it. Then, in turn, he'd use that concerned, loving voice he reserved _especially_ for her, prompting her with something more along the lines of: _"why are you so upset, my love? Talk to me."_

And yet _this_ time around, all she'd gotten was a mild, almost off-hand, query of: " _What's gotten you so worked up, Maya_?!"

He was acting like she was distressed over a _run in her pantyhose_ , rather than being forced to contend with _the worst possible scenario on earth_ since she'd become Master!

Feeling even more vulnerable _now_ than before Phoenix had called, Maya swallowed back the fresh wave of tears threatening to fall at his callous inflection but proceeded to pour out her myriad of fears over the arrangement. About the fact that it was such an important, strategic, tactical alliance. That she was supposed to be fulfilling her duty as Kurain Master, otherwise the old crones would ensure her life was an unescapable living hell. As she spoke, she couldn't help shedding a few more tears, despite her stern resolve to no longer ineffectually blubber over the matter.

The pianist listened quietly until she was done before he spoke again.

"That all sounds pretty rough," he remarked mildly, as though she'd just told him the Kurain chef had mistakenly given her a vegan patty instead of her usual bacon cheeseburger. "How about I come up and visit you tomorrow after I'm done work? I think you'll feel better once you get this all out of your system in person, won't you?"

The village leader was torn between wanting to shriek at Phoenix for sounding so dismissive about the worst plight she'd been presented with, _in her entire life –_ did he just not _get_ how this affected _him_ as well her?! Had she _stuttered?!_ – and simultaneously being overjoyed at the prospect of seeing him so soon. Moreover, _he_ was volunteering to come up and see _her_? He hadn't set _foot_ in Kurain since her Master ceremony!

"Y – You want to come up here to Kurain, t – tomorrow?" Maya stammered. "I mean, you _can_ , no problem! Everyone will have long since gone to bed by then since you get off work so late. Um, except, of course, for _me_ , so there are no issues with sneaking you in. I mean, this is so nice of you, Nick – but it will be about 4:00 in the morning when you get up here! Won't you be too tired?"

She could almost hear Phoenix shrug.

"Welp, desperate times call for desperate measures. These _are_ extenuating circumstances, after all. I'll see if I can duck out of work a bit early and if I can borrow Gumshoe's car. Driving-wise, Kurain is only about 90 minutes away, possibly faster at that time of night since there's no traffic."

Maya was astonished at the offer – she hadn't thought she'd be seeing Phoenix again until her next LA conference later that week. Also, since when could her technologically inept, "dumb phone" holding, completely Luddite lover _drive_?

"When did you get your license, Nick?" She couldn't keep the befuddlement out of her intonation. "Also, please don't speed on my account – we don't want you getting pulled over!"

"I may not have a license to drive, Maya, but I never said _I didn't know how_ to operate a motorized vehicle, if need be," Phoenix laughed mirthlessly. "Besides, who's going to pull me over if I'm driving Brutus, the _Police Chief's_ huge honking tank of a car?"

" _Brutus_?" Maya repeated blankly, still staggered by his doting willingness to do such illegal activity for her while being torn between letting him and trying to talk him out of it.

"Gumshoe's black Dodge Charger. It's the automobile of choice for most unmarked cruisers. Also, it's one of the few wheeled beasts that tank of a man can easily fit into! _Nobody's_ gonna get in my way when I'm driving that thing – it's the Bullwinkle of all cars!"

"Nick, I don't want you to go through so much trouble and risk –"

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Maya, even if I have to walk there." Phoenix abruptly cut her off, silencing any further protests she'd been about to make. "It's getting late and I'm sure you've had a draining evening. I know _I_ sure am beat! Goodnight."

He clicked off before she could even respond. The spirit medium sat there, staring at the cell in her hand, wondering why she didn't feel better at the prospect of seeing her boyfriend again so shortly after alerting him to her crisis. He was her pillar of strength, after all, and she needed him. Fittingly, her soulmate had said he'd be there for her and was coming to her even sooner than she could've hoped or planned to see him.

So then _why_ was she now feeling slightly worse off _now_ , than she had _before_ Nick had called?

Maya had a hard time sleeping that night, and when she finally did drift off, her slumber was filled with tormenting dreams, which only further fueled the inexplicable feeling of dread in her heart.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Kurain Village_  
March 3, 2025, 3:15 AM

Maya was waiting at the main entrance of the village when she saw a set of headlights flash on her, bathing her in its glaring brightness as an enormous dark car pulled up. Turning off the engine and pocketing his keys, Phoenix exited the vehicle swiftly, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he loped towards her.

"Brutus drives like a dream," he told her. "Handles great even on sharp turns. I have to admit, I'm going to be mighty sad handing him back to his owner."

"I'm surprised, what with being a cop, that Gumshoe even loaned it to you – considering you don't have an actual license."

"He didn't ask." Phoenix shrugged. "My motto – _don't ask, don't tell_."

 _Since when?!_ Maya wondered. Aside from bluffing in court, Phoenix had always been the most forthright, honest man she'd ever known. What was _with_ him?

She searched his handsome visage, made visible by the night torches that lit up the gated entrance, but he was wearing an unreadable poker face at the moment, along with the despised beanie as well, for the first time in ages. He made no move to remove it, and for some reason, Maya was hesitant to do her normal playful jesting about it or try to pull it off of him, as usual. There was something oddly foreboding in his expression that made her refrain from the usual antics at that moment.

Also, thus far, he'd made no move to hug or kiss her in greeting, so Maya just stood there a few feet away from him, awkwardly mimicking Phoenix's action of jamming his hands into his sweatshirt pockets by placing her own into the pockets of the light cloak she'd thrown on over her nightgown. She'd been lying in bed, not expecting him until at least 4:00, when he'd texted that he was now nearby, so the outer garment had been all she'd grabbed when she'd rushed from the manor, taking not even her house keys or magatama from her night table. It was a warm enough night – about 18 degrees Celsius – but she wasn't sure how long they'd be staying outside, and she wished she'd worn closed-toed shoes rather than her sandals; her exposed feet were already feeling the chill of the late-night air.

"Does this thing have wings? Because you must have _flown_ it to get up here just after 3:00 when you left the bar at 2:00," Maya joked, attempting to ease the tension. "How lead was that driving foot of yours coming up here, Nick?"

"I got time off for good behavior," he smirked. "So I got to leave about fifteen minutes earlier than planned. Also, since Gumshoe uses Brutus for work and home, that baby's got an inner light bar in the back that silently flashes when going, ah, _high speeds_ on the roads…you'd be surprised how fast folks in other cars get out of your way!"

Maya frowned at him disapprovingly. Driving without a license _and_ speeding – in a _cop car_ , to boot? This sort of thoughtless, reckless behavior wasn't typical of the Phoenix Wright she knew and loved _at all!_

The ex-lawyer caught her reproachful expression and put his palms up in a gesture of mock innocence.

"Don't look at me like that, Maya! I didn't drive recklessly – it was just as fast as I could while trying to get over to you because I thought you _needed_ me!"

 _Sure_ , she thought sourly, folding her arms across her chest. _Use **me** as your trump card to excuse your borderline criminal actions, why don't you!_

"As long as I return that car without a scratch on it, Gumshoe's cool," Phoenix went on. "I told him you had a crisis that needed tending to, and he said I could borrow his wheels, no problem. All he asked was that I have the car back to him by 8:30 in the morning as he starts work at 9:00."

Maya didn't know what to say in response, so she simply gestured for him to follow her to the pretty gardens just off to the side, where there was a stone bench among the fragrant blooming flower bushes. She sat down and patted the spot next to her. He took a seat beside her but kept his distance somewhat so that he was close but not touching.

Something _definitely_ was not right. Maya didn't even know how to begin. In all the years she'd known Phoenix, she'd never been a loss for words with him. This imposter was clearly Phoenix Wright's doppelgänger at most, and despite whoever he _claimed_ to be, he was a total stranger as far as _she_ was concerned! The man seated next to her may have _looked_ like her longtime lover, but instinctively, she somehow _knew_ he wasn't.

Since the disbarring, the Master knew her lover had changed. His zaffre eyes had lost their bashful, slightly naïve expression from his lawyer days and attained a slightly tortured, cynical air, but still retained the same gentleness.

There was none of that evident in the orbs of this man sitting next to her now, his eyes guarded, hard, and unreadable.

_This isn't my Nick._

"So, what did you tell Trucy this time?" Maya began awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

The anterior attorney groaned.

"She worked tonight, and I sent her a text telling her I was in a late-night poker game and might not be back till she's in school. Luckily, she's old enough now to be home alone and can get herself dressed and to school without my help anymore. But still, I hate having to lie to her."

" _A poker game_?" Maya queried, glad they seemed to finally be having a normal, non-stilted conversation. "I'm confused. I thought you played piano at The Borscht Bowl?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I haven't mentioned, have I? My bad." Phoenix smiled thinly, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm a double agent at the bar – I play a lousy night of piano till about 11:00, then I go downstairs to the Hydeout in the basement and let the poker sharks take a crack at the reigning, unbeaten poker champion."

" _Undefeated poker champion_?" Maya's eyes were wide with disbelief, uncaring that she was beginning to sound like a parrot. "Nick, you're _gambling_?"

"For the past six years," he affirmed smugly, not appearing even remotely contrite at this admission, despite her stupefied reaction to the news. "The piano playing is a _front_ , Maya. I've been making a living playing poker right from the start. But relax, it's nothing illegal. We play for glory, not money. I'm the undefeated Baron of Bluffing. All those years of bluffing my way through court made it a transferable skill, I suppose."

"It still sounds sort of shady…" she began slowly, not wanting to sound judgmental but still stunned at the revelation. "I don't mean to sound so pious…it's just that…"

"It doesn't sound too prudent for a prestigious village master to be associating with a lowlife poker shark, is that it?" Phoenix sneered. "Is _that_ what you meant?"

Maya drew back, aghast at his tone. She stared at him, tears filling her eyes.

"How could you say such a thing to me, Nick? I've always stood by you, even when you told me _not_ to! I've _never_ looked down at you! Do you really think something as trivial as telling me something like you play underground cards is all it'd take to make me start _now_?"

"Maybe not. But it's just another black mark against me in the minds of the elders if they ever get wind of this." Phoenix spoke with his head to the dusty ground. "Someday, Maya, you'll wise up and see me the way they do – as a derelict, worthless bum, who is beneath you and unworthy of you in every way possible."

"Why are we on this _again_ , Nick?" Maya was exasperated. "Did someone build a time machine and put us back in the year 2020 for a second time? _What_ does it take to convince you that _I don't care_ what those hags think! I'm not a snob! I don't care what occupation you have! And I don't care what they think about you!"

"Well, you should. Because they're right about me, Maya," Phoenix regarded her with a pained expression. "Trust me, the day _will_ come, when one day, you'll hate me."

Maya stopped like she'd taken a bullet to the guts.

"Why would you say such a thing? I love you. I can't live without you."

Phoenix raised his gaze to meet hers, so she would know he wasn't messing around.

"It's what happens to a great love when the expectations are too high. We'll be fine for a while, then the monotony of having a lover who is nothing more than vagrant hobo will kick in. And you'll realize you're a woman of great power and prestige who has been wasting her life slumming it with poker shark, a fake pianist. A borderline criminal, with no name or money. One whose stigma of being a disbarred forging attorney will forever plague us wherever we go."

"Nick, where is all this coming from?" Maya wailed, fighting back the deluge building up behind her eyelids. "Moreover _, why_ are you talking about us as if we're nothing more than transient all of a sudden?"

Undaunted, Phoenix continued debasing himself, as though she hadn't spoken.

"Ultimately, I'll only find some way to let you down in the end, can't you see that? I won't bring you flowers or gifts anymore. I'll forget our anniversary. Your friends will have nicer homes and fancier vacations. I won't be exciting, I'll be a burden. A disgrace. And you will be as ashamed to associate with me as everyone else is!"

Maya's mien had lost what little color it'd had.

"Damn you, Nick! These are all nothing more than lousy excuses not to try! Or maybe you just don't love me?!" Her eyes washed with the kind of tears that only came when people finally broke, in ways not easily repaired. But when she met his gaze, his were just the same. Phoenix _did_ love her. So what was all this nonsense about hate?

He was just spiraling down that woe-is-me, self-pitying route yet again for some reason. She had to snap him out of it.

"I know we've got our problems, Nick, but you told me you found your lawyer and were making investigative progress in clearing your name! Stop being in such a funk, old man!" Maya jumped to her feet and placed her hands on her hips. "Come on! We're two smart people; we've gotta think of _something_ – for _my_ situation as well as _yours_! But we'll do it together, OK?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "No matter what, I'll stand by you. Because… I – I can't lose you again."

"Maya, some problems can't be solved." He replied flatly, burying his head in his hands.

"I don't want to think of us as a _problem_ , Nick! Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me – well other than the whole Mia being killed and me being accused of the murder and me thinking I must have done it –" Maya realized she was rambling. "But I'm telling you, I _love_ you. Let's find a solution, _together_! We're an unstoppable team!"

"No, we aren't Maya. Not anymore. I can't _do_ this any longer, can't you see that?" Phoenix cried, jumping to his feet and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Being with me is going to tear you apart! These elders _don't_ have the wrong idea! You should try to find a better man than me, who can give you the life, the love, the family you deserve! If you stay with me, I'll be sucking the life out of you like a parasitic leech, bit by bit. That's what I do to those who love me."

"Nick, don't –" Maya pleaded, but no avail, as he relentlessly pressed on.

"Why I'll end up doing it, I'm not altogether sure. But when _you_ soar high, _I'll_ only drag you down. I'll stir up your anxieties, just to be the one to soothe you and help you to find fault with anyone that competes for your attention. This is about as fair as I can be, it's your warning. You're _settling_ by being with me, choosing this life! Heed my words, Maya! If you know me at all, you'll realize this isn't a joke." He grabbed her face in his hands, tilting it up as he watched the tears filling her eyes and he swallowed hard. "So, my smitten lover, you have some serious thinking to do."

Phoenix never argued with his fists but his words packed a powerful punch. Carefully spoken, without drama, his words had an air of finality to them and no matter how hard she railed against them, nothing would change his mind. Still, she had to try.

"I don't _want_ another husband!" Maya shouted, the droplets beginning to trickle down her face as she frantically grasped his hands and clasped them to her cheeks, needing to feel his touch. "I want _you_! I love _you_ , Nick! I'll _wait_ for you! How can you say these things about yourself? It doesn't matter what the world or society thinks! Being with you rises me up, gives me a reason for _being_. You could never drag me down!"

"But I've already begun to, Maya. I heard it in your voice when you told me what the Dragon Lady was planning for you. She wants better for you, even though her methods might be unorthodox, and so do I! Being a woman of your stature, being forced to be with a nobody like me has been killing you softly all these years! You just can't _admit_ it, even though I've _seen_ it!"

She started shaking her head in denial, but he shook her gently, trying desperately to make her understand.

"Stop refuting the truth, Maya! You'd deny it whenever I tried to talk about it, but I saw it every time. The lies over your lips, faking smiles and words, trying to convince everybody you were perfectly fine. Whenever you smiled, something felt wrong, like a little crook over your mouth, coming from deep inside your soul. Oh, Maya, you will never know how many times you broke my heart whenever I saw the sad look in your eyes, the corrupted fake smile you put on as a daily dress, denying yourself the right, to be honest with the way you felt. Tell me, are you sure you were just trying to convince the world? Or maybe you just desperately wanted to convince _yourself_?" Phoenix released her then and turned his head away from her so she could no longer see his countenance. "I guess we will never know. I wish I could know."

His words fell out of his mouth like vapor but landed in her guts as shrapnel. Maya felt her insides tear, and the blood drained from her cheeks. A small, rising hysteria within her made her want to laugh, yet she knew he was deadly serious. His eyes were cold like she'd never before seen; his features immobile. He looked like someone about to vomit.

She was trying to understand the words he was telling her but she couldn't. He _must_ love her, he had for so many years, and to be honest, she thought aside from Pearl, he was the _only_ one in the world left who did.

Then he turned away to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets.

Before Maya knew what she was doing, she was standing in his way and they locked eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shook his head. She could see her pain mirrored in his navy eyes. This smacked of duty. Phoenix always said he'd stick around while she tried to persuade the Elders to accept him someday, but in the end, it seemed they'd won after all.

She couldn't let that happen. _Wouldn't_ let that happen!

"Please, let's just say to hell with the elders, to _everything_ , Nick!" Maya begged. Slow, desolate liquid beads ran from her unblinking, flooded orbs and dripped steadily into her nightshirt. "We've talked about this before, let's just grab Trucy and Pearly and just run away! To Canada! To Connecticut! To _anywhere but here_! We can find a place where nobody can trace our whereabouts! Where no one can find us and give us orders or tell us what the rules are…"

"Maya please stop this." Phoenix sounded absolutely drained then. He looked at her with pity in his eyes as he spoke his next words. "I didn't want to have to tell you this – I was hoping I could just let things end with a clean break between us, but it looks like you've left me with no choice but to tell you the entire, terrible truth."

He took a deep breath.

"I got an email from Edgeworth a few weeks ago. The motion plea we put through requesting an early release for Godot and Iris has been granted. He got out in December – he's been the one sending me those gourmet coffees in the mail that I've been telling you about. And Iris … has been granted parole as well. She's being released from prison this Friday."

Maya studied him apprehensively as a feeling of dread mounted in her gut. This was her worst nightmare come true. She knew what his next words were going to be, but found herself powerless to stop him, to save herself the soul-crushing agony she knew the next verse would bring.

"I went to go see her two weeks ago, Maya." Phoenix's expression was pained as he faced her. "Seeing Iris again, after so long…it was as though the years had stood still – as if no time had passed for us at all." He dropped his gaze then so she could no longer see his eyes. "Iris – she never stopped loving me. And when I saw her again … I realized I felt the same way. I never stopped loving her, either. Sh – She was my first love. We were _each other's,_ first love. You never forget your first, Maya. We have another rare chance to try again … and I _have_ to take it."

He was looking down at the ground as he mumbled his next words.

"I hate to do this to you, but I can't go on lying to you any longer."

"You're _kidding_ , right?" Maya's voice was quaking as his unfaltering eyes met hers. She wanted to beg, plead, get down on her knees and tell him that without him, her life had no meaning; that their _love_ had meaning, but she knew that staunch face of his. Knew it all too well. It was the one he wore when his ears were closed and his mind had put up barriers to all new information.

"No, Maya, it's over." He slowly turned away, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes. "I – I'm sorry."

Hearing the words, her stomach contracted so violently that she thought the congealed contents of her stomach would emerge right there and then. She could feel her chest tightening under the sudden, alarmingly erratic thudding of her increased heartbeat. She stood frozen, vision blurring, and at that moment, Maya heard her heart utterly break in two. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

"You're – _sorry?!"_ She screamed, not even recognizing her own voice anymore, it was so shrill. "I was gone away for _one week_ … and in that time you're telling me _you secretly met, fell in love with and are leaving me_ , not for all the bullshit excuses you just spewed at me about not being good enough, or because of the elders, but _for my cousin_? Because she was your _first_?! _You_ were _my_ first! Does that not matter at all to you, you _soulless son of a bitch_?! I gave you my _heart_ … my _body_ … my _virginity_ …"

She broke down completely then, the rivulets cascading down her cheeks in unending streams, unable to go on.

"It _wasn't_ bullshit, Maya." Phoenix sounded maddeningly calm in comparison, unlike Maya, who was sobbing so hard now that her entire body was shaking.

Looking up at him through her bloodshot eyes, she saw that somehow, in stark contrast, the poker shark was utterly composed. In the half-light of the moon, Phoenix looked like the shadow he'd become. Hunched over in that sweatshirt, mien partially obscured by that hated beanie, he could have been anybody, and in a way, Maya guessed he was. She'd thought their bond was everlasting, and in her naivety, she'd believed it to be unbreakable.

Phoenix went on speaking in the same flat, matter-of-fact tone, as casually as if discussing the weather, uncaring about the devastation he'd just caused her.

"I meant what I said. You _are_ too far above me in stature. It just wouldn't work in the long run. As it is, we only see one another a couple of times a month, and only in hiding! That's no way to live your life. With Iris, there's no need to sneak around, or deal with any drama from the elders, or worry about societal expectations. I'm a low-life poker player. She's been to prison. We're two peas in a pod when you think about it. Both on the bottom rung of society – two of a kind in that sense." He laughed humorlessly then. "Aside from our shared history, we genuinely can relate to and understand one another, don't you see?"

"You've been plotting this all along, haven't you?" Maya wept, wrapping her arms around herself in a vain effort to contain the sobs that wracked her slender body. "Was I just your _filler_ girlfriend until she was released? Was _she_ the one you loved all along even while you were singing songs to me and giving me jewelry and making love to me …?"

"No," he shook his head. His face was somber, although his eyes were still unreadable. "I hadn't realized that I'd never gotten over Iris until I laid eyes on her again. And – I really _did_ care about you Maya. I still do. Please know that."

"You _care_ for me?" She shouted, glaring at him with outraged indignation even as the tears continued to fall. "You care for a _cat_ , or a _dog_ , or your … _clients_! Me … I gave you my _virtue_ …my _soul_ … my _all_ … and _you_ tell me … you _care_ for me?!"

"Maya…" he reached out a hand then, and tried to place it on her shoulder, but she shrunk away from him, crying so hard now she could barely see.

"No! Don't touch me!" She shrieked, slapping at his hand. "Don't you _dare_ touch me, Phoenix Wright! Never, _ever_ again!"

Her mind began to spin like a whirling kaleidoscope of memories racing through it from the last six years.

* * *

The night of her 21st birthday, when he'd first told her he'd loved her after singing that Bruno Mars themed song for her at the Borscht Bowl.

" _And you already know I would break every law for you."_

" _I will never love anybody the way I love you, Nick."_

* * *

Their marriage-like vows in Edgeworth's condo as he made love to her.

" _I'm never gonna give you up, my love. Tell me you'll never leave me."_

" _Never. I'll never leave you, Nick."_

* * *

When he'd given her that heart-shaped locket with Mia, Pearl and his photo in it with the engraving on it: **_"I love you madly, without question or reason, and care naught if it's for a lifetime or a season."_**

* * *

Christmastime, when he'd given her that ring.

" _What are you promising me?"_

" _Me."_

" _You and me… we're end game, Nick."_

" _Maya Fey, I'm forever yours. Faithfully."_

* * *

Maya's hands were trembling as she reached behind her neck then and undid the clasp of the gold chain that held the locket, which she never took off. She was alone, scared, and devastated. Her heart had been butchered, her love taken away bit by bit. Her voice quivered as she spoke.

"I invented every excuse for staying. I must admit, and I think you'd agree with me, I got pretty creative over time. Yet you kept giving me every reason to leave. And I still tried to ignore them, like a lovesick fool; like a drug addict dying from an overdose. It seemed like in those days, even if I'd died, if I'd have let you kill me, I still would have made an apology for you to use. You should've given me something to hold on, like a fake hope, or a beautiful lie; maybe then things would've gone differently. Maybe you'd have changed and let us grow healthy into something beautiful, instead of opting for Iris. We both know it's because she's the easier choice, and no reason other than that!"

Maya gripped the locket in her hand for the last time before flinging it at him, not caring as it bounced harmlessly off his chest and onto the ground.

Phoenix didn't make a move to pick it up.

"Or maybe I'd have finally _let_ you crush me into a million pieces, and perhaps I very well would've ended up as the broken photograph taken from an obituary. But for once, you'd say just for once, I listened to you, not to your lying eyes or your false words. For once, I got further and listened to the things that cannot be faked. Yes, you told me in so many ways that I should leave you, go far away and never go back. I didn't listen, as I've never given up on a person ever, in my whole life. Yet now it seems, I have no choice."

She yanked the silver chain the promise ring had been dangling from around her neck; didn't even bother trying to undo the clasp, and felt some grim vindication as she felt it break in two. Just like her heart. She took aim and hurled that at him too. It hit him right in the face.

This time, Phoenix caught the ring before it fell to the earth beneath them.

But still, he didn't move. Didn't even blink.

In contrast, Maya couldn't believe that it was possible for a person to feel _this_ kind of searing, agonizing pain and still go on living. It burned within her, coupling with the white-hot rage which was rapidly replacing her sorrow as the full weight of his betrayal hit her, the waves of wretchedness threatening to engulf her mind, body, and soul.

"You were my _life_! Now you're nothing more than a mere slither of worthlessness. I _trusted_ you! I _loved_ you! I prayed to God that you remained healthy, happy, and strong. And _this_ is how you repay me! _This_! Telling me you loved me, taking my body whenever you pleased… and in the end, having the colossal nerve and audacity to tell me your heart lies with _my cousin_?!"

Then Maya's hand moved, as if on its own volition, and she reached out and sharply slapped Phoenix Wright cleanly across the face.

The sound of the strike was as loud as a clap and stung his face. It had been an open-handed smack, and it had left a red welt behind. Phoenix staggered backward, clutching his cheek, as he stared at her in shocked disbelief at what she'd just done.

Maya didn't care. She was seeing red as she pointed to the direction of the dirt path leading from Kurain, her chest heaving with the force of her rage.

"Now, you get the hell out of my village, you heartless, low-life, Godforsaken _bastard!_ You are nothing to me anymore, Phoenix Wright, do you hear me? _Nothing_! You've lost all my trust, weakened your status to the point where you are now _dead_ to me. Get out. _Get out!_ The very sight of you makes me sick!"

And just like that, Maya Fey, Master of Kurain, lifted her head like a dignified queen looking down at a peasant she no longer deemed worthy of her presence. Then she somehow, reaching for the last of the inner strength within her, gulped down a sob, dragged together the remaining rags of her composure, turned on her heel, and walked away, back towards the village, not even once looking back over her shoulder.

With each stride, her mind became clearer, more resolute, as if the growing physical distance between them had now become an emotional chasm. As the nascent moonlight caressed her skin, promising that the next few hours would bring a new dawn, a new beginning, she entombed her memories of him in thick-walled ice. Then, abruptly pausing to close her eyes and take in a deep breath of dewy air, she steeled herself to only think of her future from here on in. A future _she_ would mould, build, direct. Then, with each stride after that, she felt more in charge, in command of her own mind, body, and soul. She was a no longer the girl he'd once known. She was a grown woman now, walking into her own destiny, a destiny that lay squarely in her own hands.


	75. Partners In Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love is like a friendship caught on fire: in the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> A/N: When I started the first story of this series, Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman, about Phaya's story, I never dreamed I'd ever do a trilogy - how could I have known out of the thousands of AA FF's out there, anyone would actually care to read MINE?!  
> But to my shock, amazing readers out there actually were reading and mostly digging my geekdom, therefore prompting second and third story. (Thanks so much guys!)  
> Looking back, I realized when the reader jumped into that 1st story, it was where the Phaya ROMANCE began, but as I wrote part 2, and now part 3, I realized I never gave Phaya the COURTSHIP they deserved.  
> Instead I gave the couple what I hope my readers will think is their own beautiful love story.  
> Ergo, I hope you guys enjoy my own take on the roots of how Phaya began, and therefore, grow to love and appreciate their story as much as I do :)

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Fey & Co. Law Offices_  
September 5, 2016

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't blink. All he could do was stare.

The harrowing scene before him would be seared into his mind and haunt him for the rest of his days: Mia Fey’s lifeless body slumped over, beneath the window sill, her head bowed as though in submission, a thin trickle of tell-tale blood matting the silken caramel tresses.

At last, he found his voice, and heard it, although unrecognizable, as it cried out her name, begging her to wake up.

Desperately, not daring to hope, he placed his fingers against the side of her slender neck.

There was no pulse.

He’d known there wouldn’t be. The pungent smell of blood wafting throughout the air, that had assaulted his nostrils as he’d burst into the office, had confirmed that suspicion.

Chills ran down his spine as he felt the last of her warmth leave her still form.

His eyes were burning and his chest felt heavy as if it were filled with lead. He could no longer see clearly. All he knew was that his beloved mentor was gone, out of his life, forever.

A bead of liquid fell onto his hand he looked to the night sky outside the window, towards the heavens, silently screaming at whatever merciless powers that be how such a thing could have happened to the kindest, gentlest, greatest woman he’d ever known. And even though the sky had been grey and looked like it was about to break into a heavy downpour, not a droplet came from the sky. Looking down at his hand again another drop appeared, and he realized that the liquid was coming from his eyes.  
  
A soft whimper sounded suddenly.

Peering over to the other side of Mia’s remains, Phoenix first laid eyes on the small, helpless-looking form, curled up into a little ball, astounded that he hadn’t even noticed it till now. It was a young girl, no older than high school years.

Stunned, as he’d thought he was alone, he walked to the girl and shook her to let her know of his presence. She lifted her head and looked at Phoenix silently, pearl-shaped tears rolling down her tear-stained, pale cheeks, falling in wet tracks from wide, luminous eyes, as great sobs wracked her body. 

In that split second, as he stared into those pained, red, tear-rimmed eyes staring back at him, instinctively, he _somehow_ knew that the inconsolable, grieving devastation on this stranger’s visage matched exactly not only what was on _his_ face, but also within his _heart_.

Before he could dwell on the curious sensation, however, the girl’s eyes suddenly rolled up in her head, and then, breathlessly, she fainted.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Fey & Co. Law Offices_  
September 9, 2016, 9:02 PM

The trial had been physically depleting. _That sonofabitch White has one **hell** of a right hook._

Mentally exhausting. _I haven’t slept for more than five minutes all week._

And _emotionally_ vexing and fatiguing. _Damn, it’s been one helluva ride, with more ups and downs, twists and turns than the Matterhorn at Disney!_

He felt enlightened…yet confused. _Mediums aren’t a hoax?!_ _Spirit channeling was real?!_

Less naïve, and somewhat wiser. _Think outside the box, don’t be afraid to turnaround your way of looking at things…_

Downright drained, tired, and above all, _old_. Phoenix wondered if it was at all plausible to have aged _10 years_ in just four days. He’d been through enough drama and turmoil since the fateful day of September 5 to last him a lifetime.

First, he’d had to square-off against Miles Edgeworth, his childhood friend who’d suddenly resurfaced after fifteen years, into an inexplicably hardened prosecutor who was nothing like the loyal, kind-heartened young boy who’d championed for justice that Phoenix had once known. This alone had been quite disappointing and jostling in itself.

But then, _on top of that_ , in the act of defending her, he’d had to not only repeatedly _personally_ _relive_ , but _succumb_ poor Maya to the horrifying trauma and gory details of Mia’s murder, which thanks to the _inconceivable ineptitude_ of the LAPD, she’d been _accused_ of!

Of course, there was _also_ the brief terrifying spell of when _he’d_ temporarily been arrested for the crime and wound up in the defendant’s chair himself! However, after everything else he’d endured, he’d felt nothing but an icy calm within him as he’d successfully defended himself in the same manner he had the Chief’s baby sister.

The icing on the cake was now that the trial was over and Mia’s murderer, Redd White, had been incarcerated, Phoenix was now facing an additional sense of heavy obligation; that the onus was now on _him_ to take care of the plucky teenage spirit medium.

To be fair, it had never actually been _stated_. However, in the manner of the instant unspoken affinity with Maya, he’d felt from the first moment he’d looked into her sorrowful eyes, knowing she not only shared but _felt_ his same agony at the loss of Mia, somehow, he just _knew_.

What he _didn’t_ know was how he felt about the additional sudden – he didn’t want to say _burden – responsibility._ After all, he was a rookie defense attorney who’d only just won his second-ever case, which couldn’t have been done without the help of his late mentor, whom Maya had miraculously suddenly been able to channel at the last moment, saving his bacon in the world’s most unanticipated turnabout. And he was a _24-year-old bachelor_ for Pete’s sake – he could barely take care of _himself!_

These were the brooding thoughts that plagued his mind as he headed back to the law office that night, just like Mia, whilst being channeled by Maya, had asked him to. Initially, his response to the request had been complete and utter disbelief – _how_ could he meet a woman who was _dead?_

However, after the events over the past few days, he opted to suspend disbelief and decided that truly, in this whole new world as he now knew it, _anything_ could happen.

Also, he figured he had enough to dwell over without adding this to the list, and opted to push it to the back of his mind.

At 9:00 pm, Phoenix entered the building. It was dark, like the day of the murder. He barely repressed a shiver.

_Being here, it's hard not to think about that night..._

He scanned the premises and saw a figure standing by Mia's desk.

“You came!” A familiar, but implacable, voice chirped.

“Mia...” he whispered.

“I was kinda worried you might not,” the voice went on.

“Huh?” He blinked, dazed. “Of course I came...”

“Well then! I'm pretty hungry. How about a burger?” The voice asked cheerfully.

“Mia...?” Now Phoenix was dazed _and_ confused!

There was a loud burst of laughter, and suddenly _Maya_ burst from the shadows.

“You should see your face!” She crowed, looking at him with an undisguised expression of mirth.

Phoenix started. “Mia!”

“ _What_ are you talking about?” Asked the elfin-faced girl standing before him. “It's _me_! _Maya_!”

“M-Maya...?”

Standing before him was not his beautiful mentor, tall, long-stemmed and voluptuous, with the honey-brown eyes and flawless caramel tresses, but _Maya_. Tiny, little, ever-animated Maya, with her long black hair and impish mocha brown eyes, who wore that weird purple yukata…and an enormous shit-eating grin.

“What, did I look like my sister?” She asked mischievously.

Phoenix gaped at her.

_Look like... you WERE her!_

“Hmm! I might be able to use that!” Maya smirked. “Oh, Phoenix! Go to the store and buy me lunch, would you?"

_She’s a real ball of gags when she’s not being indicted for murder, isn’t she?_

Shaking his head, Phoenix turned on the lights in the office and asked what she was doing there.

Maya beamed and with a flourish, waved a piece of paper at him, explaining Mia had written her a letter.

It was sweet and direct, just like the Chief herself. It simply read: _"Take care of Phoenix for me."_

Phoenix closed his eyes. Here he’d thought he was going to be tasked with looking after this _boisterous, effervescent minor_ as his final forsworn homage and duty to the woman who’d meant the world to him. Instead, even in the afterlife, Mia was making sure that _he_ was the one who was looked after, in a way that she no longer would be able to.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before he finally found his voice.

“Take care of... huh?”

“She means the office! _This_ office!” Maya stated simply, as though it were that obvious, which, come to think of it, it _really_ was. “ _Someone_ has to help with the new Wright & Co. Law Offices, right? And who better _than_ me!”

 _Who better indeed?_ Phoenix thought wryly, his lips twitching as he fought back a smile despite his exhausted state. The girl was bubblier than a bottle of champagne. _As much as I am not one to disobey the last orders of a dead woman…this is still moving a bit too fast for me…_

“Maya Fey, reporting for duty!” Beaming, she clasped her hands in front of her chest delightedly. “Wait, no, on second thought, let's make this casual!”

 _Casual?_ He looked at her in confusion. _As opposed to what? **More** formal? I already wear a suit to work – if we get any **more** formal I’d be in penguin-style tuxedo attire!_

“Yo, Nick! Maya here, ready, to get down to business!”

Phoenix just stared at her. **_Where_** _does she get all that energy?! Will I **ever** be able to keep up?!_

Maya suddenly halted and smiled at him bashfully.

“You... don't mind me calling you "Nick," do you?” She asked shyly. “It's a great name! Mia said that's what your friend Larry calls you.”

_Nick? Sure why not? I’d forgotten Larry calls me that too…I try hard not to cross paths with that ill-fated bumble butt too often! But heck, there’s no other **girl** that’s ever called me that. I’ll let her be the first._

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Maya exclaimed as she put her hand out in front of her. “We’re _partners_!”

 _I guess we are. I need to trust the Chief knew what was best…_ Phoenix hesitated for just a moment, but then, somehow, he found himself placing his large hand on top of Maya's tiny one, as though _someone_ had taken his hand and led him to do it… almost as if… _Mia herself_ was guiding it…

Maya was grinning at him, her slightly too-long fringe falling into her eyes, suddenly reminding him of a Shetland pony. It was adorable and endearing. He resisted the urge to want to pat her on the head.

The spirit medium noticed he was eyeing her strangely and blushed slightly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She tilted her head to the side, in the manner of her late older sister, and Phoenix was startled at the uncanny mimic of the action. They looked nothing alike, and _yet_ …

"Sorry,” he blushed. “It’s just, looking at you right now, there was just something… I was just thinking you look kinda like Chief. Not your coloring or hair, and the…" He gestured awkwardly at her physique. "But I don’t know, _something_."

Perplexed, Maya studied him, this blushing man who was now her business partner/boss, properly, for the very first time. He had removed his suit jacket at some point and had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his tie loose and his collar unbuttoned. It made him look more relaxed and less serious. More approachable.

 _More hot._

She felt her cheeks turning pink. Looking up at him, she realized just how much he towered over her petite frame. Wow, he was big. Tall, broad shoulders, strong forearms…just overall _strong-looking_. Like the kind of strong where you could lean on him, and be supported by him, kind of strong.

She'd never had any guys around in the village growing up and it was embarrassing to admit but really, she'd never been this close to one before. His eyes weren’t brown, like she’d initially surmised, but more like a sort of dark blue. They were gentle eyes. Kind. Trustworthy.

She owed this man a lot. He’d not only saved her life, and kept her from death row, but he was saving _her_ , period.

Now that the trial was over, Maya was suddenly and achingly aware of her position. 17-years-old and she'd never been to school. Hell, she’d barely ever ventured outside of her remote little _bassackwards_ village. She wore clothes that made people stare like she was some kind of hippy-chick or freak and all afternoon, had been constantly fielding phone calls from her hometown telling her to just take the first train home. The elders curtly reminded her that since Mia was gone, there was nothing there for her in the city anymore.

But she didn’t _want_ to go back. This man, this _savior_ of hers, had given her a chance to see what else existed outside the restrictive walls of Kurain.

Staring into his eyes, the psychic’s mind shifted from the focus that right now she was standing in her dead sister's office, with her former protégé; this guy with broad shoulders and weird spiky hair... who was so damn tall, and strong-looking, and gentle and kind…

_Stop it, Maya! This man is your **boss**! Your **partner**! You are **not** , repeat **not** going to start fawning over him like some **pathetic, love-struck teenager** experiencing her first crush!_

Even though that was **exactly** what Maya was at that moment!

Not that she had a _hope in hell_ of ever being with him in _that_ way. But her little crush would fade in time, surely. In the meantime, she had a rare opportunity to repay his kindness and be of some value to him. However, she’d have been lying to herself if she wasn’t a _bit_ tickled that she reminded him of her gorgeous, glamorous big sister.

_If that’s what it takes to make him look at me, er, **find value** in me, so be it! It’s a **start** , right?_

"Really?” Maya asked, her blush deepening as she fidgeted with her magatama and dropped her eyes. “You really think I look like Sis?” Privately she thought she didn’t in the least. She was short, flat, gawky, and skinny – nowhere near as beautiful, polished, grown-up as Mia. Could never be.

“Yeah, kinda,” Phoenix replied self-consciously, not knowing what else to say. Her staring had unnerved him, and he wondered if he has something stuck on his face or in his teeth.

"Well, so do you," she blurted out, then realized that didn't even make any sense. "I mean, I don't know, you're like her _in_ _court_."

That much was true, at least. Phoenix had Mia’s finger-pointing _Objections_ , statement-pressing, and dual hand, desk-slapping mannerisms down to a T.

“I guess…I learned from the best after all.” Phoenix shrugged. "You were too. Literally."

 _Oh, right. Of **course** , that’s what he meant._ Maya swallowed back the ridiculous feeling of disappointment. _So **that's** what he's seeing. Mia… **literally**. Duh! Man, can I **be** any more of a lame-ass, pathetic, love-struck idiot?!_

"It was pretty awesome," he continued. "I've never seen anyone do something like that. Never believed in magic."

"It's not magic," Maya mumbled. "It's spiritual power. For harnessing spirits. And their power."

"Ah, gotcha."

There was a weird silence. She was the first to break it.

“Hey Nick, shouldn’t we mark this momentous occasion and celebrate somehow?” Maya forced herself to smile. She didn’t need to _be Mia_ to get a bite to eat with him, after all, and she was _starved_. “Maybe you could take me out for that burger I mentioned earlier?”

“Um, sure, if you want,” Phoenix smiled. “Any place in particular?”

“Actually, yes!” Maya’s eyes lit up. “There’s this awesome place around the corner that Sis used to take me to whenever I’d visit her in the city, can we go there?”

“Sure thing.” Phoenix graciously opened the office door and ushered her to proceed. “After you.”

“You’re buying, right Nick?”

“Er, sure. Your burger is on me.”

“ _Burgers_ , Nick! I’m a growing girl! I need more than just _one_!”

“OK, I’ll need to stop at the ATM then,” he agreed good-naturedly, figuring another twenty should suffice.

After all, how many burgers could one _tiny, rail-thin_ teenage girl _possibly_ eat?


	76. Just The Way You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they're not shinin'  
> Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her trying  
> She's so beautiful and I tell her everyday  
> Yeah, I know, I know when I compliment her she won't believe me  
> And it's so, it's so sad to think that she don't see what I see  
> But every time she asks me "Do I look okay?"  
> I say
> 
> When I see your face  
> There's not a thing that I would change 'cause you're amazing  
> Just the way you are  
> And when you smile  
> The whole world stops and stares for a while  
> 'Cause girl you're amazing  
> Just the way you are  
> Yeah
> 
> Her lips, her lips, I could kiss them all day if she'd let me  
> Her laugh, her laugh she hates but I think it's so sexy  
> She's so beautiful, and I tell her everyday
> 
> Oh you know, you know, you know I'd never ask you to change  
> If perfect's what you're searching for then just stay the same  
> So don't even bother asking if you look okay, you know I'll say
> 
> When I see your face  
> There's not a thing that I would change  
> 'Cause you're amazing  
> Just the way you are  
> And when you smile  
> The whole world stops and stares for a while  
> 'Cause, girl, you're amazing  
> Just the way you are
> 
> The way you are  
> The way you are  
> Girl, you're amazing  
> Just the way you are
> 
> When I see your face  
> There's not a thing that I would change  
> 'Cause you're amazing  
> Just the way you are  
> And when you smile  
> The whole world stops and stares for a while  
> 'Cause, girl, you're amazing  
> Just the way you are

Since the fateful day of September 9, 2016, the rambunctious, burger-chomping, _Steel Samurai_ loving Maya Fey had become Phoenix Wright’s new legal assistant of the new Wright & Co. Law Offices.

It was a divinely asserted choice Phoenix never once regretted, despite the _hole_ in his wallet that stemmed from the spirit medium's insatiable yen for the former, as well as the one he often yearned _to put into his own head_ from the brain-numbing ardor she had for the latter.

From the seeds of obligation and mutual partnership, a deeply rooted companionship, one stemmed from mutual loss and suffering, blossomed between the two from that day onward, springing up into a friendship unlike any he’d ever known before, and soon came to value and cherish above all else.

Just as he’d predicted, yes, Phoenix had wound up taking care of Maya. She had no other family. If not for him, she would have had nowhere to turn, nowhere to go.

But moreover, Maya took care of _him_. He had nobody else left either. If not for her, he would have wound up in jail. Moreover, he’d have been nothing more than a lonely, sad shell of the man he used to be.

Somehow, amid unspeakable tragedy, two lost souls had found one another, and together, the healing process began. They were one another’s rock and support.

With Maya around, the pain of losing Mia was dulled somewhat, replaced by a bittersweetness that he couldn’t quite describe. But he knew she felt the same way when it came to him.

Words only got in the way, Phoenix assured himself on numerous occasions. They weren’t _needed_.

Until one day, shortly, they _were_.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
December 29, 2016, 5:02 AM

Phoenix woke up feeling like he’d gotten a boot to the head.

_Ugh, my head hurts. I think I went a little bit overboard celebrating Edgeworth’s murder acquittal with Gumshoe and the gang…_

His eyes felt gritty, his head felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton candy and his throat felt like it was full of cotton balls.

 _Huh? It's still only 5:00. Maybe I should go back to sleep...Hmm? What's this? A letter?_  
  
Even in his bleary-eyed, hungover state, Phoenix could make out Maya’s familiar, elegantly scrawled handwriting.

* * *

_**Good morning, Nick,** _   
  


**_You were really impressive yesterday. Seeing you...It made me think about what I'm doing here._ **   
**_I'm a spirit medium... in training, of course. I wanted to help Mr. Edgeworth too. I wanted to help you._ **   
**_But I couldn't._ **   
**_I was useless._ **   
**_So, I've decided to go back to my training. I'll become a full-fledged spirit medium, for starters._ **   
**_I couldn't say it to your face, so I left this letter._ **   
  


_**Goodbye, Nick.** _

* * *

Phoenix’s heart leaped into his throat.

_What?! She’s leaving?! No! She can’t! Not like this!_

As he staggered out the door in desperate hopes of making it to the train station in time, Phoenix silently cursed himself for the umpteenth time for never giving the insecure teen the validation and reassurance she’d so desperately needed. This last case had hit Maya pretty hard, and for _some godforsaken reason_ , when she’d been unable to channel Mia, she’d kept wailing at how useless she was to him.

He had _no inkling_ where his assistant had gotten the stupid idea of how she meant nothing to him unless she could channel Mia, but obviously, he hadn’t done enough to dispel that _ludicrous_ notion!

Phoenix's client in this last case had been none other than his childhood friend, Miles Edgeworth, whom he knew wasn’t capable of even stealing a cookie from the jar even if no eyes were on him, never mind wiping out human life. It was the burden of proof that had been his challenge.

Well, that and getting the maddeningly _obstinate_ , not to mention _haughty,_ prosecutor to agree to let Phoenix defend him, after some _heavy_ initial resistance!

This trial was fiercer than any he’d ever had against his favorite courtroom rival, as the opposing prosecutor was Edgeworth's mentor, the legendary Manfred Von Karma, who boasted a 40-year perfect win record.

On top of that, Phoenix had hit a new level of bizarre with this case. _He’d seriously cross-examined a parrot!_ As absurd as it’d sounded, _that_ had been what had turned the whole thing around! Had it not been for his perceptive assistant asking the dumb bird, 'Is there anything we're forgetting Polly?’ and it hadn’t mentioned the DL-6 incident, Phoenix would have lost his first case.

Then, during the trial, when hope had been all but lost, the headstrong, impetuous, _act first, think_ _later_ Maya had made a scene by objecting to key witness testimony, even though the action had made her be held in contempt of court. (It turned out the grateful Edgeworth had paid the money to bail Maya out of prison, where she’d wound up yet _again!)_

 _Two instances_ where _Maya_ , not _Mia_ , Fey had saved the day, and _still_ the girl couldn’t see her own worth to him!

When Phoenix had gotten Edgeworth declared not guilty, the German Dracula-impersonating prosecutor hadn’t looked too fazed, which was discerning.

The older man’s ulterior intentions were finally revealed when Edgeworth had proceeded to shock them and plead his guilt to _another_ crime – the murder of his own father, defense attorney Gregory Edgeworth, from the DL-6 incident, 15 years ago!

It had been at that moment that Phoenix had realized _this_ had been the dastardly man’s ultimate diabolical plan from the get-go! All this time, his goal had been to get _his adopted son_ incarcerated, for a crime _he hadn’t even committed!_

Manfred was one _twisted_ son of a bitch!

"I'm not very useful am I?" The teen had complained again for the millionth time that night.

"Don't say that Maya, you've helped me with a lot of things," Phoenix assured her.

 _"Oh_ _yeah_ _?”_ She countered. “Name _one?”_

Outside of court (and in some cases _inside_ as well), the gift of articulation and ability to _present evidence on command_ often appeared to leave the spiky-haired defense attorney entirely.

 _This_ was one of those times!

His mind suddenly inexplicably blank, Phoenix tried to bluff his way around the question by appearing to be in deep concentration as he frantically searched through the recesses of his suddenly traitorous memory.

“Gimme one second…well, there was… um uh… yeah…”

 _"_ _See_ _?!”_ Maya wailed plaintively. “You can’t even come up with _one_ thing!"

It wasn’t that Phoenix hadn’t cared enough to produce the proof of her worth; it was just at the time, he and Maya had been focusing on finding more DL-6 related information in the filing room for the court records! At last, he found what he was looking for. Opening up the file, he found, to his relief that everything was still inside.

"What are you doing here? Who permitted you to enter?" A maniacal voice behind them suddenly shouted.

Turning around, the startled duo found themselves facing the scary, unnerving sight of Nosferatu himself, with Taser gun, armed and ready.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me, hand it over NOW!" Von Karma demanded as he charged at Phoenix with his weapon.

"Nick! Run!" The spirit medium screamed as she launched herself in front of her friend, taking the blow of the Taser in his stead.

In the blink of an eye, Maya was unconscious on the ground, completely unmoving. Phoenix was terrified that she was dead. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Von Karma charged at Phoenix with the weapon, charging him with 600,000 electric volts, until he too, blacked out.

When he awoke, he found his assistant was still out cold and lying on the ground by his feet, a bag clutched in a death grip in her hands.

"Maya, Maya…wake up," Phoenix pleaded as he shook the girl awake.

To his relief, she began to stir, and he inspected the item she was grasping. It was a bag with the coding DL-6 incident etched on it. Inside the bag was a bullet that was removed from the victim in the case, one Gregory Edgeworth.

_Maya, she must have grabbed this piece of evidence when she protected me from Von Karma._

The girl could have _died_ trying to protect him with her hasty, steadfast loyalty. _Why_ had she risked endangering herself so, the brave, wonderful _fool_?!

"Good job Maya. What would I ever do without you?" Phoenix whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

Apparently, not loudly enough for Maya to have heard him, though.

The bullet that he pulled out of his loyal aid’s clutches turned out to be the key to winning the trial. It put everything together and pulled out the real culprit, who had turned out to be the psychotic, vengeful Manfred, who had murdered Edgeworth’s father due to some petty, personal grudge against Gregory, and found _this_ to have been his way of exacting revenge!

Considering all these factors of how important Maya had been in resolving the case, the spiky-haired man had honestly thought he’d stopped her ridiculous train of thoughts regarding her lack of usefulness, and convinced her how much she meant him.

It was painfully evident he wasn’t as convincing in his personal life as he was in the courtroom.

In the last three months, Maya Fey had come to mean the world to him. He felt as though he’d known her a lifetime. Sure, the ties that bound her to him stemmed from their mutual love of Mia, but his assistant had come to mean so much more to him than that.

After only a few short months, there became an implacable point where he couldn’t remember how he’d ever gotten by without her. A day without her irrepressible humor, smiles, and vibrancy was a day without sunshine, which she brought back to his otherwise boring, monotonous, gloomy life.

She was warm and funny and kind. Supportive. He valued her for _her_. _Her_ ever-present smile. _Her_ companionship. She wasn’t just there to channel Mia for him…she was his _partner_. His _friend_. Possibly even…his _best friend._

He needed to let her know that. If he wasn’t already too late…

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_** _  
Train Station, Los Angeles_  
December 29, 2016, 5:22 AM 

Huffing from his winding sprint, Phoenix cast a frantic eye about him, wondering if he’d made it in time.

 _Is she already gone?_ He thought dejectedly, his shoulders slumping. _I guess I'm too late..._

 _"Nick?"_ Maya's surprised voice sounded behind him.

He spun around to face her, his expression pleading. 

"Maya... _what the heck_...?"

"Nick… I'm going back home. To Kurain Village." She dropped her eyes, avoiding his questioning gaze.

"But Maya… _Why_?" Phoenix stared at her in disbelief.

“It's hard being a spirit medium who can't talk to spirits. And...I think you'll do fine without me, Nick.” Big, tearful brown eyes met his then, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. “Be good... okay?”

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t go.”

“I’m of no use here… and besides, I have been shirking my responsibilities as a medium. I need to go back and train to become the new master of the village. The position was supposed to be Mia’s but um, she’s gone…and I can’t channel her forever, right? So that makes _me_ next in line!" Maya cracked a smile and attempted to sound like her old chipper self, yet was failing miserably.

“You’re wrong,” Phoenix insisted. “I _never_ could have saved Edgeworth without your help…On the last day of the trial... I _heard_ her. I _heard_ Mia's voice!”

Her dark eyes widened.

“You _heard_ my sister...?”

He nodded vehemently.

“Yes... only her voice, but still...It was at the very end when I thought we'd lost everything.”

“Well, that's my sister for you,” Maya mumbled glumly. “Detective Gumshoe helped, and Mr. Grossberg, and even Larry... _I'm_ the only one who couldn't help. I was useless, Nick.”

Phoenix felt himself temporarily sympathizing with Manfred’s insane need to thump his head repeatedly against a wall at that moment.

_Maya is Mia’s sister, all right. Stubborn as a bull, this one!_

"Of _course_ you're useful! I wouldn't have been able to win this case without you!" Phoenix tried to encourage her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bag that contained the bullet she had wrestled away from Von Karma.

"What's that? The bullet you used in court?"

"It's something from the DL-6 incident… Something I found in your hands after Von Karma attacked us. Something _you_ did that was _the most useful thing_ ever," Phoenix flashed a genuine smile.

" _I_ did that? _I_ saved that from Von Karma?" Maya sounded amazed.

Phoenix smiled and nodded.

“Yes _you_ , Maya, _not Mia_. _You_ saved the day. Without you, I would have never been able to finish this case. You saved _both_ me _and_ Edgeworth," he pointed out. “Thank you, Maya Fey. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He held his breath, hoping he’d convinced her.

Maya looked at him with misty eyes.

“Thank you, Nick,” she whispered. “I promise you, I’m going to go back to Kurain Village to finish my training as a medium, then come back to you. This way I can help you more with your work, and I can be even _more_ useful!"

“Y-you’re _still_ leaving?” Phoenix spluttered, trying not to break down and beg her not to leave him. For some absurd reason, it felt as though Maya was abandoning him. He felt like an orphaned puppy.

“I'll be back soon,” Maya promised, reaching over and giving him a quick hug. “I'm going to complete my training, and come back.” She caught the sad look in his eyes and tears welled up in her own again. “I _swear_ to you, I’ll come back to you, Nick.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” He fought the urge to sniffle and cursed himself. Jeez, what was _wrong_ with him?!

“Of course you will!” Maya exclaimed, giggling. “You can't run that office by yourself! You're hopeless!”

Phoenix cracked a smile at that one and raised a brow at her. “Uh, I don't know about that...”

Maya stepped onto the train then, flashing one final watery smile over her shoulder. “Bye, for now, Nick. And thanks!”

“Bye,” he whispered, standing rooted on that platform and waving until the train was completely out of sight, carrying the young girl who, within such a short time, had come to mean so much to him, who unknowingly was taking a piece of him with her.

Phoenix was unaware of it at that time, but that young girl, that priceless treasure, had been the Chief’s final gift to him.

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright  
_ ** _Wright & Co. Law Offices_

In Maya's absence, Phoenix fell into a desolate slump and didn't accept any cases. He just couldn’t drum up the gumption.

Prospective clients that he turned away looked at him oddly when they saw the poster of the _Steel Samurai_ on the wall. He couldn’t have cared less what they thought.

 _Maya stuck it up here on the day she left._ He thought defensively. _I didn't have the heart to take it down._

Two months after she’d departed, Phoenix agreed to take _one_ very particular case. The desperate teenage scientist, who had been frantic to save her elder sister from execution, had reminded him of something, of _someone,_ that he couldn’t quite place at the time, and he'd been compelled somehow to take her case.

Strangely, Phoenix found the girl's presence semi discomfiting, yet comforting, at the same time. Money wasn’t the factor – he’d agreed to take on the case of Ema and Lana Skye for an _entirely_ different reason.

Although he fully didn’t understand at the time, Ema helped ease the empty void in his heart that he’d never realized was there until then. But only partially. There was only _one_ person who could bring him out of his slump, and it wouldn’t be anytime soon. Each day without her that passed by felt like a week. And each week felt like a month.

Phoenix's thoughts were uncustomarily bleak those entire six months.

 _I never knew that missing someone could take over every fiber of your being, and wring you out like a wet sponge every day. It is a daily torment that I was wholly and completely unprepared for_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruno Mars – Just The Way You Are


	77. Ain't No Mountain High Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen baby, ain't no mountain high  
> Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough baby  
> If you need me call me no matter where you are  
> No matter how far don't worry baby  
> Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry  
> You don't have to worry  
> 'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough  
> Ain't no valley low enough  
> Ain't no river wide enough  
> To keep me from getting to you babe  
> Remember the day I set you free  
> I told you you could always count on me darling  
> From that day on, I made a vow  
> I'll be there when you want me  
> Some way, some how  
> 'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough  
> Ain't no valley low enough  
> Ain't no river wide enough  
> To keep me from getting to you babe  
> Oh no darling  
> No wind, no rain  
> Or winters cold can stop me baby, na na baby  
> 'Cause you are my goal  
> If you're ever in trouble  
> I'll be there on the double  
> Just send for me, oh baby, ha  
> My love is alive  
> Way down in my heart  
> Although we are miles apart  
> If you ever need a helping hand  
> I'll be there on the double  
> Just as fast as I can  
> Don't you know that there  
> Ain't no mountain high enough  
> Ain't no valley low enough  
> Ain't no river wide enough  
> To keep me from getting to you babe  
> Don'tcha know that there  
> Ain't no mountain high enough  
> Ain't no valley low enough  
> Ain't no river wide enough  
> Ain't mountain high enough  
> Ain't no valley low enough

_Listen baby, ain't no mountain high  
Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough baby  
If you need me call me no matter where you are  
No matter how far don't worry baby  
Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry  
You don't have to worry_

_'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough  
Ain't no valley low enough  
Ain't no river wide enough  
To keep me from getting to you babe_

_Remember the day I set you free  
I told you you could always count on me darling  
From that day on, I made a vow  
I'll be there when you want me  
Some way, some how_

_'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough  
Ain't no valley low enough  
Ain't no river wide enough  
To keep me from getting to you babe_

_Oh no darling  
No wind, no rain  
Or winters cold can stop me baby, na na baby  
'Cause you are my goal  
If you're ever in trouble  
I'll be there on the double  
Just send for me, oh baby, ha_

_My love is alive  
Way down in my heart  
Although we are miles apart  
If you ever need a helping hand  
I'll be there on the double  
Just as fast as I can  
Don't you know that there_

_Ain't no mountain high enough  
Ain't no valley low enough  
Ain't no river wide enough  
To keep me from getting to you babe_

_Don'tcha know that there  
Ain't no mountain high enough  
Ain't no valley low enough  
Ain't no river wide enough  
Ain't mountain high enough  
Ain't no valley low enough_

**_Maya Fey_**  
 _Fey Manor, Kurain Village  
_ June 15, 2017, 11:55 AM

“You look sad, Mystic Maya,” Pearl Fey observed, watching Maya brush her long dark hair before her dresser so it hung in more a tidy manner down her shoulders and back, as she was headed out to meet with a prospective client in a few moments and wanted to look nice and neat. “What’s the matter?”

Maya sighed and set her hairbrush back down, casting one last forlorn glance at the _Pink Princess_ themed birthday card Phoenix had sent her, where she’d kept it propped up so she could look at it daily, before turning to face her little cousin.

“Oh, I guess…when I heard that this client I’m meeting was coming up from LA, it made me think of Nick because that’s where _he_ is right now,” Maya sighed. “I kinda wish it was _him_ coming up to see me instead.”

“You really miss him, don’t you Mystic Maya?”

“Of course I do, Pearly,” Maya replied, feeling her cheeks grow pink under the little girl’s knowing gaze. “He _is_ my friend, after all.”

“But he’s _more_ than your friend, isn’t he Mystic Maya?” Pearl prompted, putting her hands to her cheeks and going starry-eyed. “You told me he’s your _hero_ , and that he’s so _handsome and brave and strong_ …”

 _Good grief, I’ve seriously been bending her ear about Nick, haven’t I?_ Maya realized, her face flaming now. _I gotta remember to ease down on that a bit – the last thing I need is her blurting out to Nick that she knows we’re a couple because of **my** incessant, infatuated ramblings!_

“Um, he _is_ all that Pearly, but what I _really_ feel for him is _gratitude_ , you know? I mean, he saved me when I was in trouble, and he’s super generous, like buying me burgers and taking me to some wicked cool places, like Global Studios…you know the Pink Princess was inspired by me, right?” Maya added, eager to change the subject away from Phoenix. 

Pearl studied the animated image on the front of the birthday card, the inner inscription which read:

* * *

**_To Maya,  
_ **   
**_I may not be with you to celebrate this special day, but near or far, I always wish you the best in the world._ **   
  
**_Best wishes,_ **   
**_Nick_ **

* * *

Maya had analyzed that message about a million times the past few months, desperately trying to read some sort of deeper, hidden meaning into the familiar chicken scratch, but alas, could find none. It was simply _exactly_ what it seemed. A perfectly _friendly_ , _slightly more_ than a merely perfunctory handwritten message, on a personalized card that he’d known she’d like. If Phoenix felt anything beyond what was in the written or came _even close_ to missing her the way she missed him in the time that they’d been apart, this card had given zero indication, much to her absurd disappointment.

 _So much for absence making the heart grow fonder._ Maya thought gloomily. _The only one that adage applies to is **me**! This time away from Nick has made me realize that what I’m feeling for him belies just a **mere passing crush** …_

“I guess Pink Princess _does_ kind of look like you,” Pearl agreed, looking back up at her cousin and then at the card again. “Except they gave her boobies that look more like Mystic Mia’s than yours.”

“Right…” Maya muttered, self-consciously folding her arms across her less than ample chest.

“Oh, don’t be sad, Mystic Maya!” Pearl brightened then, an angelic smile crossing her cherubic face. “I’m sure your Special Someone, Mr. Nick, loves you _just_ the way you are, even if your chest _isn’t_ big because _he_ cares more about what’s _inside_ your robes!”

Maya gulped and prayed for the earth to open up and swallow her.

“He cares about the part inside that he can’t see, but he knows _only beats_ for _him_ – your _heart_!”

Maya was sure at this point a marshmallow could have been roasted against her face! She _had_ to get out of there!

_Mystic Ami help me, I’m about to die of mortification! From the mouths of babes indeed!_

“Um, yeah, Pearly, I’ve gotta go, I’m going to be late meeting with Dr. Grey,” Maya said quickly and hastily exited the room before Pearl could think yet _another_ embarrassing comment to remind her just how much ardor-fueled rambling she’d been doing about the object of her affection!

When Maya entered the doors of the Meeting Hall and quickly sat across from the stern-faced man already seated at the table, he pointedly looked at his watch, even though Maya had been _merely two minutes late_ , and then cut right to the chase. 

“Ms. Fey I will try to make this quick. I have no desire to lollygag or extend this meeting longer than necessary as it’s a two-hour drive back home and while it doesn’t look like rain may fall, I cannot afford to be caught in rush hour traffic if it does, and as it is, I forgot my umbrella at the office so if it does rain, I’m ill-prepared for it even if only walking, and the weather girl is never right about these things anyway as you know.”

Maya stared at him, her eyes the size of saucers.

_Aunt Morgan set up a business meeting with Wendy Oldbag’s twin brother it appears! He hasn’t even taken **one breath** during that entire, asinine monologue! All that’s required now to prove the evidence behind my claim is for him to call me **whippersnapper**!_

“Morgan says that you’re a spirit medium in training so your services are only half price, as a full-fledged medium costs extra.” The brown-suited man continued, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose as his sharp eyes raked her impatiently in anticipation of her answer. “So are you going to help me or not?”

The spirit medium bit her lip nervously. She was surprised little Pearl, who had more spiritual power in her tiny pinky finger than Maya herself possessed in her whole body, hadn’t been asked to do the spirit channeling for the plastic surgeon instead. After all, Morgan took particular relish in reminding her niece of her skillful shortcomings in comparison to the 8-year-old _constantly_! Perhaps Maya been underestimating her capabilities, and her aunt saw some further progress in her that the diviner had missed – although quick to ridicule or criticize, Morgan was always slow to bestow praise of any sort – and was hence using this opportunity to finally be able to put all these months of preparing in the icy mountains of the village into practice.

This would be her _first, real, legitimate,_ spirit-channeling. The _true_ test of whether or not her swift departure from the city, and away from Phoenix, whom she missed even more dreadfully as the days went by, had been in vain. True, the training rituals Aunt Morgan had subjected her to had been grueling, borderline torture. But it was all for a greater good. And how else could she prove that her powers were strong enough to be of value unless she fulfilled the request of this strange, weather-obsessed man her aunt had suddenly sprung upon her?

Dr. Turner Grey's request was for her to channel the spirit of the dead nurse, Mimi Miney, who’d been employed at his practice in Los Angeles.

Los Angeles … the city… _Phoenix_ …

Maya’s earlier, innocuous remark to Pearl came rushing back to mind.

_I kinda wish it was **him** coming up to see me instead…_

An impish grin tugged at the spirit medium’s lips as an idea manifested in her mind. If Mohomet couldn’t go to the mountain, why couldn’t the _mountain_ come to _Mohomet_?

“I will be delighted to help you, Dr. Grey,” Maya told him cheerfully, clasping her hands to her chest. “But before I do, there is something _you_ must do for _me_ first.”

Grey listened with an arched eyebrow as she cited her stipulation.

“I see, and where can I find this Phoenix Wright, without whom you shall refuse to assist me if I return here without him by my side?” He conceded grumpily.

Maya beamed and told him the address and phone number for the Wright & Co. Law Offices.

“Most interesting, this request of yours, Ms. Fey,” Grey remarked, looking at her thoughtfully. “Exactly who _is_ this man to you, who is of such relevance that you’re willing to halt business proceedings for this village, whose reputation Morgan told me you’re all so desperately trying to re-establish? Is he your lover?”

“N- Nick? My l-lover?” Maya spluttered, feeling her cheeks redden at the unexpected bluntness of the unanticipated query. _Only in my every waking fantasy! Would that count?!_

She cleared her throat and reached for a glass of water, pausing to swallow while searching for a satisfactory answer to the unseemly question. 

“Phoenix Wright is a prominent defense attorney of untarnished repute,” Maya replied at last, with as much dignity as she could muster, while realizing in hindsight she hadn’t refuted the statement of him being her lover at all. “He was the protégé of my late sister and a man with whom I established a business partnership last year that I am most privileged to call my friend and associate. I have had to temporarily halt affairs between us as my duties here took precedence, and want to assure him firsthand that I have now achieved a new level of skills that he will find most greatly will benefit the practice.”

“ _You_ established the partnership?” Grey inquired, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he looked at her with newfound respect. “Most impressive for a girl your age to have a successful lawyer be working _under_ _you_. You can’t be more than what, 14? 15?”

The necromancer was so irritated by the inaccuracy of the age guess that she didn’t even pay mind to the equally incorrect assumption that had preceded it. OK, she realized that she looked young – five foot nothing in stature, with long bangs that hid her eyes like a sheep-dog most of the time, added to the fact that she had the physique of a 13-year-old boy to boot. If the good Lord ever intended to give her a bosom, He was most certainly taking his sweet, precious time with it! Nevertheless – she was legal now for heaven’s sake! A woman! And this fart-pick thought she was still in the later stages of puberty?! Hell, it would no longer be illegal if Nick were to look at her that way now! Not that he ever would in a million years, but still, it was no longer a teenage fantasy that would land him in prison if it ever came to fruition!

Puffing out her cheeks, Maya threw her shoulders back to make her marginally augmented chest more pronounced (curse these baggy, overly concealing acolyte robes – she may as well have been in a _burka_!) and completely forgot about her attempted efforts at eloquence and maturity from a moment ago as she glared at the man.

“It wouldn’t hurt to get your _lens prescription_ checked out when you return to the city to fetch Nick, Dr. Grey,” Maya returned crisply, rising from her seat, indicating the meeting was over. “For your kind information, I’ll have you know that I turned 18 two months ago.”

“Oh, did you?” He at least had the propriety to blush. “Well, um…my apologies…trust me, by the time you’re _my_ age, it will be considered a compliment to have people round _down_ , rather than _up,_ when guessing your age.”

“Better get moving Dr. Grey,” she grinned, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “The faster you head to the city, the faster you’ll be back with Nick, and the faster I can tend to matters of importance to you.”

“This Phoenix…he sounds very important to you,” Grey noted, at last mimicking her actions and getting up from his chair as well. “You sound most eager to make his acquaintance again.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s the same for him too,” Maya quipped. “That man’s gone far too long without me around as well, and is probably _wasting away_ from loneliness even as we speak!”

_Hey, a girl can **dream** , right?_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
June 16, 2017, 3:34 PM

Life had consisted of a dreary routine of bottomless cups of coffee and reading the paper for Phoenix since the Lana Skye murder acquittal back in February. For one thing, his childhood friend, shortly after receiving the King of Prosecutors Award, had left a cryptic note behind, stating **_“Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death,”_** as his final swan song.

That was it. That was _all_ Edgeworth had left behind for Phoenix Wright, his childhood friend, and defense attorney.

The man who had twice gotten him acquitted for crimes he’d never committed. The man who had made it his _life’s ambition_ to become a defense attorney because Edgeworth had so inspired him at the tender age of nine. That was Phoenix’s thanks for all of it.

To say he was _embittered somewhat_ was the _understatement of the century_!

It was like saying that _Wendy Oldbag_ and her unrequited crush on the prosecutor were only _mildly inappropriate_ , instead of _scary beyond all reason!_

Between losing his mentor, his office assistant turned best friend, and now the man who had influenced his _life path_ , life as Phoenix knew it kind of sucked and stuff, to say the least.

He hadn’t bothered with another case in the past four months – mercifully, he’d been paid fairly well from the Will Powers case, as well as the Skye trial, so for once, he wasn’t exactly hurting for money.

And so he sat in his office, coffee mug in hand, idly perusing the comic section of the daily newspaper, when he suddenly got an unexpected arrival.

Despite claiming that as a plastic surgeon, he had a saintly profession in comparison to Phoenix’s, Turner Grey, to date, had to be _the_ most pompous, aggravating, and _nerve-grinding_ person the defense attorney had ever encountered.

This was an impressive feat indeed, seeing as how the _last_ witness Phoenix had dealt with was an _unruly, nameless, narcoleptic_ man with a _disgusting, continuous snot bubble_ in his last trial before Maya had left!

Completely enamored with the sound of his own voice, Grey proceeded to venture on a mindless dialogue, first about the weather, _then_ about his befallen woes at the hands of his incompetent former employee, which had brought him to the Wright Law Offices.

At this point, Phoenix had ceased pretending they were having a two-way conversation and had switched to polite nodding and _uh-huhs_ and _hmmms_ , all the while continuously sipping from his coffee mug to stay awake throughout the senseless droning. Somehow, he _just barely_ resisted the urge to flip through his paper during the monologue. Grey was so full of inflated self-importance he probably wouldn’t have even noticed!

Eventually, Grey paused in his endless lamenting about his unjust fate of dwindled patient loads since the previous year’s malpractice suit.

Phoenix was finally able to get a word in edgewise and mildly inquire why the doctor had come to see a _defense attorney_ when it sounded like he was more in need of a private investigator.

“No, this is something only _you_ can do,” the arrogant windbag insisted. “Maya Fey, you know this girl, do you not?”

 _Maya_! The other man had Phoenix’s full attention now. _Why does **this** man know Maya?_

“I heard you were working under her for a little while?” Grey pushed his glasses up his nose for the millionth time.

“Well…yes…” He stammered, still stunned at the mentioning of his friend, who had crossed his mind more times that day than he cared to count. “I mean – hey! Wait for a second here! I worked _under_ her?!”

_I can’t tell if he’s trying to be tongue in cheek or not here but…I’m not sure this insufferable egomaniac even has a sense of humor!_

“Yes,” the other man replied simply, as though not understanding the context of inappropriateness whatsoever. “Am I wrong? _She_ told me as much, so I’m not quite sure if…?”

 _She was only 17-years-old_ , _you perverted freak of human nature!_

“Well, we _did_ work a few trials together… But she went back to her hometown to undergo more training.”

“Ah, yes, I _heard_ ,” Grey smirked. “It must be lonely for you.”

Phoenix’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“Wh-What!? Wait... I'm not...!” 

_What **exactly** has Maya been telling Dr. Grey?!_

“She must be an extraordinary girl to handle such rigid training,” Grey remarked, oblivious to Phoenix’s dumbfounded expression. He went on to explain how an acquaintance of his had introduced him to the young spirit medium and had enlightened him to the mystical world of spirts, prompting Phoenix to wonder how he’d never realized how famous and acclaimed Maya was.

_Was she just excessively modest or is this blowhard…blowing smoke? Ah. Maya, I’ve missed her. Wonder what she’s up to right now?_

“When I made this appointment, I was notified that I’m her first client for spirit channeling,” Grey went on. “So she gave me _one condition_ before accepting my request.”  
  
“A condition...?” He echoed.  
  
“The condition is _you_ , Mr. Wright.” Grey pushed up his glasses again. “She said that she _wouldn't do the channeling without first seeing you again.”_

Phoenix was completely gobsmacked at this news. And, also, a teeny bit touched.

_Maybe she’s missed me as much as I’ve missed her after all…_

“So I _need_ you, don’t you see?” Grey asked impatiently, at last noticing Phoenix hadn’t spoken. “And _that_ is why I've searched you out! You want to see her too, don't you!?”

The lawyer took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and the sudden jolt that went through him at the prospect of finally being reunited with Maya again, and nodded affirmation.

“Yes, I do.”

_More than anything in the world…_

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marvin Gaye- Ain't No Mountain High Enough


	78. Un-Break My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't leave me in all this pain  
> Don't leave me out in the rain  
> Come back and bring back my smile  
> Come and take these tears away  
> I need your arms to hold me now  
> The nights are so unkind  
> Bring back those nights when I held you beside me
> 
> Un-break my heart  
> Say you'll love me again  
> Undo this hurt you caused  
> When you walked out the door  
> And walked out of my life  
> Un-cry these tears  
> I cried so many nights  
> Un-break my heart  
> My heart
> 
> Take back that sad word goodbye  
> Bring back the joy to my life  
> Don't leave me here with these tears  
> Come and kiss this pain away  
> I can't forget the day you left  
> Time is so unkind  
> And life is so cruel without you here beside me
> 
> Un-break my heart  
> Say you'll love me again  
> Undo this hurt you caused  
> When you walked out the door  
> And walked out of my life  
> Un-cry these tears  
> I cried so many nights  
> Un-break my heart
> 
> Don't leave me in all this pain  
> Don't leave me out in the rain  
> Bring back the nights when I held you beside me
> 
> Un-break my heart  
> Say you'll love me again  
> Undo this hurt you caused  
> When you walked out the door  
> And walked out of my life  
> Un-cry these tears  
> I cried so many, many nights  
> Oh, un-break my
> 
> Un-break my heart, oh baby  
> Come back and say you love me  
> Un-break my heart, sweet darlin'  
> Without you I just can't go on  
> Can't go on
> 
> Say that you love me, say that you love me  
> Tell me you love me, un-break my heart  
> Say that you love me, say that you love me  
> Tell me you love me, un-break my heart

_**Maya Fey**_  
 _Fey Manor_  
March 9, 2025, 8:45 AM

Staring at her reflection in the bedroom mirror, Maya was shocked. She looked okay, normal even. Inside, the ache for him gnawed at the very heart that still beat endlessly for him. She pulled her lips into a smile, and let out a frightened sob when she realized that anyone could easily mistake this lackluster grin for real happiness. It amazed her to think; _how can I look so ordinarily normal when I have crumbled inside?_

It had been a week now since Phoenix had left her, and the pain still hadn’t lessened. The ache of longing to be with him echoed through the very marrow of her bones. It was a chill wind trapped in the chambers of her heart. Time itself seemed to slow to such a leisurely pace that it seemed beyond cruel to Maya, ringing out the seconds, so that the past mere week felt like a month.

The Master leaned her forehead against the cool glass, unable to bear another moment of the sorrowful reflection staring back at her, and watched as the tears dripped down onto the mahogany wooden dresser.

_Without you, the world goes by like a bad movie - exciting in all the wrong ways and lagging in-between. I was never locked into my own head when you were here. It was like we drew the essence of one another from our skulls and combined it in a way that is only meant for the gods. You were my elixir, I was your sunshine. Seasons come and go, as do the celebrities and politicians. None of it means anything anymore. I know I'm alone and lost without you. The conventional cure is to find a friend, but next to even the memory of you, they aren't friends at all. They'd drop me in lava if they thought the rest of the world would approve. There was a time, you'd have stopped earth on its axis to save me from harm, no matter what anyone else thought. I guess I'm spoiled. You were my prince, I was your princess, and together we were the richer than all the money ever created._

The psychic shut her stinging eyes.

_The three of us, you, me, Pearly, for the longest time, we were like a little family. Then Trucy came along, and we could have had it_ **all** _– not_ **one** _, but now_ **two** _daughters to love unconditionally. These two precious angels already loved one another as blood siblings and would have had_ **two** _doting parents who loved_ **them** _, and_ **each other** _, more than even the air they breathed._

A tear rolled down her cheek. 

_You shattered that dream, Phoenix Wright. Damn you. Damn you to_ **hell** _!_

Another hope blasted.

_But it wasn’t just_ **my** _heart you broke that night, you cowardly bastard. You got off easy – one last smack to the face and you got off scot-free._ **You** _weren’t the one who had to break the news to_ **her** _…and listen to the sound of her tender heart shattering into a million pieces…_

* * *

_**Maya Fey and Pearl Fey**_  
 _Fey Manor_  
March 3, 2025, 9:05 AM 

Maya would never forget the devastated look on Pearl’s face as she told her the ugly, harsh words.

At first, the girl shook her head violently, as if in denial. Then, eventually, the shock and anguish began to register on her face as she stared into Maya’s woeful gaze.

“ _No_ ,” the distraught teen whispered helplessly, searching for some indication on her cousin’s face that she’d heard her wrong. But there Maya sat on the bed, silently watching Pearl as she stood there by the wall of the Master’s bedroom, which she suddenly braced her trembling hand against. “No, it can’t be true, Mystic Maya, _it just can’t_!”

“It’s over Pearly,” Maya’s voice sounded tired and resigned. “He doesn’t love me anymore. I don’t think he ever did. H – he wants to be with Iris now.”

The younger girl stood quite still for several moments then, suddenly lapsed into silence, holding herself in a manner that suggested she'd like to disappear altogether.

Maya watched her anxiously. 

Although directed in her cousin's direction, Pearl’s eyes were no longer focusing; they were scanning the room now, locking onto any one thing, almost daydream-like. She shifted her weight from her left to her right and back again every few seconds as if thinking of moving and yet choosing to remain still. A few seconds later, she blinked, as though the full impact of the words had hit her at last, moving backward until her back hit the wall behind her, which she slumped heavily against. A small gasp escaped her as she trembled.

Then her face buckled, her eyes brimming deeper and deeper with tears until finally, they fell as if they'd never stop, falling thickly to her cherubic lips.

" _Why_? Why doesn’t Mr. Nick love us anymore? H – he was our _family_ _!"_

The Kurain head had thought last night her heart had already been through the wringer enough to last a thousand lifetimes but seeing the misery that matched what was in her own heart, manifested in those dejected gray eyes, was nearly her undoing.

“I’m sure he still loves _you_ , Pearly,” the village leader soothed, choking back a sob. “And you needn’t cut ties with Trucy over this either. She’s still your family – and I know you two love one another like sisters…”

“She’s _not_ my _sister_ anymore!” Pearl wailed. “Not if _you’re_ not with her _Daddy_ _!”_

“Then she can be like your _cousin_ , sweetheart, which is _still family_ , the same way Uncle Scruffy and Aunty Maggey are to both you girls,” Maya forced herself to smile and rose from the bed, reaching out to comfort the despondent adolescent. “And Ni – _Phoenix_ can still be your family, Pearly. After all, Iris is your half-sister, so when he marries her...” She swallowed the bile in her throat that arose at the words. “Then he will become your new brother-in-law…”

“I don’t _want_ a _brother_ , Mystic Maya!” Now Pearl was entirely undone and her tears flowing in a constant stream down her cheeks. “I – I wanted f _ather_!”

“Oh Pearly…” Maya reached out a hand to place it on Pearl’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

“ _Leave me alone_!” She wept, burying her face in her hands as she turned and fled the room, out the main doors of the manor and outside.

For many long paces, Pearl raced, not even thinking of where she was headed. She just had to get away from there. It was silly, she knew. No matter where she went, she could never escape the horrible reality of the situation. And no matter where she went, no matter what she did, there was nowhere she could hide from the thoughts in her head.

At last, Pearl stopped to catch her breath in front of the magnificent lake, about a mile away from the mansion grounds, and sat down.

Had she not been as forlorn as she sat at the edge of the mountain lake, she would have been moved at the picturesque beauty of her surroundings. The image of the snowcapped peak behind it was perfectly mirrored in the water below. It looked like a giant mass of rock stretching down into the water and up to the clouds. The edges of the image were a little ruffled where the wind blew on the water and the colors had a bluish hue.

Pearl pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins.

 _If I could just curl up into a ball, I wouldn't have to face real life, I'd be protected from everything around me._ She laughed bitterly. _But I'd still have to live with myself, with the wretched memories swirling around in my mind._

Her eyes, already red and puffy from crying, squeezed shut to push more tears out. She let her head fall to her knees and pulled her legs closer to her.

Any moments of happiness and joy Pearl Fey had ever known in her otherwise tragic young life, were associated with Maya and Phoenix Wright. The loving affection she’d gotten the last seven years from the latter, coupled with the maternal love of her cousin had almost made up for having a faceless, unknown father. Or the gut-wrenching betrayal and knowledge that she’d had a scheming, overly ambitious, murderess-in-training for a mother, who’d never loved her and only seen her a pawn in her insatiable thirst for power.

Mr. Nick hadn’t _just_ broken up with _Mystic Maya_. He’d broken up with _both_ of them. _Why_? _What_ had they ever done? What had _she, Pearl,_ ever done? _She’d loved him so much!_ She had so many cherished memories with him!

The most beautiful of memories were the worst, cutting her insides as if they were shards of glass.

* * *

_June 2017_

The bright eyed-eyed 8-year-old looked up shyly at the tall man with the spiky hair and gentle eyes, smiling bashfully.

“To tell you the truth, I really want to grow my hair out, just like Mystic Maya,” she told him. “But my mother wouldn’t let me.” The little girl couldn’t understand why her mom wouldn’t want her to have hair as long and beautiful as Mystic Maya's any more than she could understand why her mom was so mean to her cousin most of the time.

Phoenix looked down at her and smiled warmly. “I think your hair now suits you perfectly.”

Pearl felt her cheeks turning pink with pleasure. “R-Really? Th-Thank you!” 

_What a nice thing to say! Mystic Maya’s Special Someone sure is a nice man! What a lucky girl!_

* * *

_November 2017  
_

“This is so much fun!” Pearl crowded as she bounced on Phoenix’s back.

“You know you’re spoiling her, Nick, giving her piggyback rides all the time like that whenever she says she’s too tired,” Maya mock admonished, even though she was grinning. “Put her down, she’s old enough to walk!”

“She’s as light as a feather,” Phoenix dismissed. “After all, she spent all day walking around on those little legs looking at lions and tigers and bears, _ohhh myyyy_ _!”_

Maya laughed. “You’re _such_ a dork, Nick!”

“Besides, this _Old M_ an needs some exercise!” Phoenix chuckled. “But since I’m carrying the weight _for two_ , that also means I get your share of ice-cream, right Pearls?”

 _“No!”_ Pearl squealed delightedly. “I want ice-cream, too!”

“You expect me to carry you _and_ buy you ice cream?” He teased. “You sure drive a hard bargain! It must run in the family! I _pay_ your cousin here to essentially play _Steel Samurai_ games online when she _should_ be working…”

“I do not!” Maya denied hotly, then blushed when he raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, maybe _sometimes_ , when we have _downtime_ , but not _all the time…_ ”

“The things your cousin does when she thinks I’m not looking,” Phoenix confided to Pearl in a stage-whisper. “She goofs off _on my dime_ and _still_ makes me _buy her burgers_ all the time! Cuz she knows I’m just a big softie who can’t say no to _either_ of you Fey girls!”

The child let out a peal of laughter, warming both the adult’s hearts with the sound.

The silvery sound was an auditory hug. It wended its way through the wintry air enveloping even strangers in its tickling embrace. Even the most stoic of the commuters on that walking past them stifled grins. Beneath a sky that only promised icy rain and with a stressful day ahead that threatened to stretch into infinity before nightfall, that childish eruption of pure glee was the gift they didn't know they needed.

“She laughs!” Phoenix joked. “But that’s because Pearls knows she’s got me wrapped around her little finger!”

The little girl just giggled and denied nothing.

Maya regarded him with a soft smile playing on her lips. “You are so great with kids, Nick.”

“Pearls makes it easy!” The lawyer declared. “If I ever have a daughter, Pearls, I want her to be _just like you!”_

Pearl smiled shyly and ducked her chin. She’d never felt more lighthearted and happy in her life.

 _You’re wonderful, Mr. Nick,_ she thought blissfully. _I wish you could be my real Daddy._

* * *

_April 18, 2019  
_

When Pearl woke up and came to the breakfast table the morning after Maya’s birthday party, both her cousin and Phoenix were looked at her with conspiring smiles.

“Pearly,” Maya grinned, nuzzling into Phoenix as he wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders. “Nick and I have something we want to tell you.”

“I think you’re going to be pretty happy with the news,” Phoenix added mysteriously.

Pearl felt like every fiber of her being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. Her hands trembled and her eyes were wide. _This is what a cat must feel like waiting to pounce on a mouse,_ she thought.

“What is it, tell me, _please!”_ She begged, bouncing on her heels.

“Pearls,” Phoenix smiled, looking lovingly at Maya then at her. “You’ve been right all along. Maya and I, as of last night, we’re Special Someones.”

Her cousin reached down to pull out her a beautiful heart-shaped locket from under her oversized nightshirt (actually, one of Phoenix’s shirts which she’d worn as an impromptu nightie) and showed Pearl the picture of Mia on one side, and the three of them on the other.

“Everyone I love, all together in one place,” Maya whispered, leaning over and kissing Phoenix on the cheek.

Pearl squealed with delight and pressed her hands against her cheeks, her eyes shining. She felt as though the sky had just filled up with rainbows, made of jellybeans!

Mr. Nick and Mystic Maya were _finally_ admitting they were in love! Now they could all be a _real_ family! That meant maybe someday, Mr. Nick would adopt her to be his _daughter!_

“I _knew_ it! I _always_ knew it! Even when you two kept saying _no_ and that I was wrong, I always _knew_ you two loved each other all along!” Pearl shouted gleefully. Then she delightedly ran up to the two and threw her tiny arms around both of them.

The three of them had a big family hug then, and Pearl beamed at the man she’d grown to so adore the past couple of years. She’d never seen her cousin so happy, and she knew the big smile on her face was mirrored by all three of them.

 _This is even better than when we all went to Gatewater Land and I met the Blue Badger!_ Pearl thought, positively giddy with glee. _Today is the happiest day of my whole life!_

* * *

_September 5, 2020  
_

“Trucy knows I had an assistant before, so there’s no need to hide the fact that you’re Maya’s cousin.” Phoenix gently put a finger under her chin and tilted up her downcast face so she could see his affectionate expression. “Or the fact that I love you _just as much_ as I do Trucy. As if you were my _own_ daughter too, Pearls.”

Hearing those poignant words from the only father figure she’d ever known, at a point in her life when she’d never before felt more scared and alone, Pearl felt a wave of emotion wash over her just then. With a wordless cry and tears welling up in her eyes, she lurched forward to wrap her arms around Phoenix for one last hug before he had to go.

“I love you too, Mr. Nick,” she whispered. “I really, really, do.”

* * *

“Pearly,” Maya’s voice sounded softly in her ear just then.

The spirit medium looked up, startled, and saw that raindrops had begun to fall from the sky, soaking the ground beneath her. Maya stood there, an umbrella in her hand, and a sad, but loving, look in her eyes.

“Pearly, you’ll get sick out here in the rain.” Maya crouched down next to her on the dampened grass and leaning forward, wrapping an arm around her and holding the umbrella over both their heads. “Please, come back inside with me.”

Pearl looked into Maya’s gentle eyes with her own woeful, watery ones, and nodded mutely.

“It’s OK to be sad, Pearly,” the Master told her. “I’m sad too. But we’ll get through this, together. You and me, we’ll be one another’s shoulder to cry on. Just no more crying by yourself in the rain, sweet girl. Never feel as though you've got no one. I swear to you, you will never be unloved, or alone, as long as there is breath in my body." She pulled the girl into her arms then. "I love you so much, Pearl Fey. You’re my _life_ ; my _everything_.”

Pearl opened her mouth to speak, to tell Maya she felt the same way about her, that she was sorry she’d run out when her cousin was hurting just as bad, if not worse than she was, and that Maya was the whole world to her, but the words came out fitfully, the sounds half-swallowed by a sobbing noise. To her dismay, she was crying almost too much to be coherent, and her sobbing form fell into her cousin’s comforting embrace then, her tears not even masked by the rain.

* * *

 _ **Maya Fey**_  
 _Fey Manor_  
March 9, 2025, 8:55 am

_You said you loved me and I took you at your word. You said I was your soul mate and over the years you became part of the bedrock of my personality. Then one day, out of the blue, under a dark, moonlit sky, you announced you were in love with someone else._

With every spare moment, her mind would rehearse a new call or letter to him, but the small remaining shred of her sanity and her dignity, wouldn’t allow her. Besides, she knew it was ultimately for naught if she did. He had made his choice agonizingly, crystal clear that night.

_Of all the women in the world, you hath forsaken me for my own cousin. Iris. It would have been kinder to kill me. Now I must be this person filled with a feeling of sorrow and emptiness that I can't control._ **She** _is to be the mother of your future children, you want Trucy to call_ **her** _“mommy.” You never spared even a second thought about what this would do to my darling Pearly, how this would affect her, did you? She loved you as much as_ **I** _did, you sonofabitch!_

Maya clenched her hands into fists so tight, her nails tore into her palms.

_What about_ **my** _little girl’s loss? She saw you as her_ **father** _. Seeing the heartache of a child that you love as your own, it surpasses any kind of hurt or pain that you can_ **ever** _feel for yourself. It takes all my pitiful sadness... and replaces it with_ **bitterness and hate** _._

She glared at her reflection in the mirror, watching the mournful eyes harden in appearance. As she recalled the betrayal and suffering she’d seen in her beloved Pearl’s face upon hearing the news, it only strengthened her resolve and hardened her heart. 

_I wish I hadn’t stopped with one slap. I wish I could have hit your unbreakable ass with enough force to make you feel even a_ **fraction** _of the pain you’ve caused me, caused_ **us both** _, and just as easily as I did that night, I’d_ **still** _have walked away without shedding a God damn tear, not one. The girl you met nearly ten years ago, the one with the big eyes and the bigger heart is now consumed by a hatred she never knew could take root. But here it is. Here we are. I am yesterday's news and she is the new belle of the ball. You hold her around her waist and let the world see who your heart belongs to now. All the while, I am forced to keep calm and carry on and smile, as I always have, through the pain. I am_ **sick** _of it._ **Sickened** _that_ **you’ve** _made me need to do this. I_ **hate** _you, Phoenix Wright. The hate doesn't ebb, it multiplies._

Without another moment’s hesitation, Maya reached for her cell phone and called Tyler’s wife, Sasha.

* * *

 _ **Maya Fey**_  
 _Fey Manor, Master Bedroom_  
March 9, 2025, 1:00 PM

“Thanks for squeezing me in, Sasha, especially on such short notice,” Maya smiled gratefully. “I hope this won’t take too long – you’re picking up Kaya and Petra from school this afternoon?”

“It’s fine, Tyler doesn’t start work till six, and I will be back long before then. It’s raining out there, so there’s no way I’m going to be driving like a madwoman to the city during breakneck speed if there’s rush hour,” the hairdresser replied. “I don’t normally make house calls – especially this far from LA, but for an old friend, I don’t mind making an exception.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, including paying your gas and mileage,” Maya promised. “I – I just couldn’t face going down to the city just yet, Sasha, which is why I didn’t just come down to see you myself at your home salon.”

“Do you have a pressing upcoming engagement?” Her friend asked. “You sounded so frantic and desperate on the phone I didn’t even try to make you wait till you were in a more rational state of mind, or even hold off until your next trip down to the city.”

“I’m not sure _when_ I will ever go back to Los Angeles, Sasha. Or if I _ever_ will again.”

Sasha’s pretty face looked puzzled, but she opted not to pry. That one was trick of the trade she’d learned. Clients loved to confide and talk, but never push them. They would open up whenever they were ready.

“You sure you want to do this, love?” She asked doubtfully, draping the smock around Maya. “I mean, this is a most drastic move, and shouldn’t be made rashly. Why don’t you just go for wild hair color, like mine?”

Maya looked at the Amazon’s now electric coral, shoulder-length waves, with the bright blue streak running down the left side of her face, accentuating her blue eyes, and smiled. Few people could pull off the look, but the porcelain-skinned British woman certainly had the panache to do so.

For a brief moment, Maya allowed herself to entertain the notion, imagining the looks of scandalized horror of the elders and business associates if the esteemed Master of Kurain were to show up with a rainbow-hued hair ‘do. Mildew herself would have a _complete_ conniption, if not an _outright_ heart attack!

_Oh…_ **that** _would be_ **reason** _enough! I. Am. So. Tempted..._

“No, stick with the original plan, Sasha,” she replied at last. “No coloring.”

Maya’s mind flashed back to the gut-wrenching memory of holding her heartbroken, weeping cousin in her arms a week ago.

“W-what does M-Miss Iris have that _you_ don’t, Mystic Maya?” Pearl had sobbed piteously. “He told me he loved everything about you! You’re fun! You’re smart! You’re beautiful! He said he loved you _from head to toe_ and that you were _perfect_ in every way, and he wouldn’t have changed even a _single strand_ of _hair on your head!”_

_Her hair…her long, signature, silken raven hair…_

“I just don’t want you to have any regrets in the morning,” Sasha murmured uneasily. “I mean, I am kind of shocked still that after _five_ years since I made the offer, you’re taking me up on it _now_! You _sure_ your boyfriend won’t come after me? He nearly bit my head off when I even _mentioned_ it, remember?”

Of _course_ , Maya remembered. She remembered _everything_. She remembered endless blissful times of Phoenix stroking the long, fragrant tresses, which tumbled past her buttocks - he'd even liked playfully tweaking it at times, even before they'd gotten together. How many times he'd twirled it around his fingers and ran his hands through it. Not to mention the countless moments of tugging it erotically during those wild, passionate lovemaking sessions…

Phoenix had _loved_ her hair.

“Nick’s not my boyfriend anymore,” Maya said abruptly, in a tone that left no room for further discussion. “So I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what he thinks.”

“He’s _not_?” Sasha looked horrified. “Since when?! He’s not mentioned a _word_ to Tyler or me! That _ass_! What did he _do_ to you?!”

The woman’s posh Cambridge accent made the word sound like _ahsss_ , which under different circumstances, Maya would have tittered about.

But she was in no laughing mood right now. There was a song, she was sure, about “washing that man right out of my hair.”

Well, as of today, Maya Fey was going to symbolically _cut_ Phoenix Wright right out of her _hair_ **and life** , just as easily and readily as he’d cut himself from hers.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maya answered hollowly, clenching her jaw. “What’s important is this. _Hack away_ , Sasha. Donate it for charity, cancer wigs, whatever. But _take it off_. _Right here, right now_.”

* * *

_Sometime later…_

“All done,” Sasha declared, removing the cape with a flourish and biting her lip as she handed Maya the hand mirror. “What do you think?”

Maya gulped. It was so… _different_. But she didn’t _hate_ it. And after all, it would grow back, right?

She nodded swiftly. “I trusted you. And I don’t regret my decision.” Reaching into her bag, she handed the hairdresser a very generous monetary sum for all her efforts and then proceeded to walk her out the door of the manor, to the main village gate, where Sasha gave her one last hug, made Maya swear she’d call if she ever needed anything or just wanted to talk, then got into her car and left. 

Maya already had her phone to her ear as she called Sister Bikini at Hazakura temple.

“Sister, I need to speak to Mystic Mildred.” Her tone was brusque, as she was in no mood for chit chat.

“Ho-ho, all business today I hear,” the jovial nun gave her customary booming laugh. “But she’s busy right now, as she’s out digging a new _latrine_ as we speak. Remember, you told her you wanted a new dug-out for a few additional outhouses since tourist season for cabin rentals is around the corner?”

“Fine, then please relay a message for me,” Maya said curtly.

“Certainly,” Bikini replied pleasantly. “What is it?”

“Just tell her this: _I changed my mind_. _She’ll_ know what it means." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toni Braxton - Unbreak My Heart
> 
> A/N: Wonderful readers…for all the times you say I’ve written a heartbreaking chapter that’s moved, even saddened you, I’d like you to know that this one depressed even me. It was a challenge presented to me by my friend, Feraligreater328 to try to write how the breakup of her ‘parents’ would affect Pearl. I blame nobody but myself for writing such an angst-laden chapter during the emotional holiday season…I do hope you liked this chapter though! I’m away for a week, so if I don’t get a chance to update before then, Merry Christmas dear readers, and Happy Holidays! Thanks for reading!


	79. Déjà Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not going to lie and say it doesn't hurt ... It's like déjà vu all over again. It's fine. I'll take the same approach as last year.”

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Kurain Village_  
June 19, 2017, 1:25 PM

The 90-minute drive between Phoenix and Grey en route to Kurain was filled with contemplative silence, as Phoenix was too busy enjoying the scenic views of the countryside to care much for conversation with the haughty man, who had to focus his attentions on the narrow and steep roads to the mountainous village and was unable to bend his passenger’s ear with asinine trivialities in the meantime.

The defense attorney was grateful for the silence, for another reason besides the enjoyment of the natural countryside beauty.

It gave him a chance to compose himself and collect his thoughts about reuniting with Maya, after what seemed like it'd been a dog’s age, rather than merely half a year. That feeling in itself was a most curious one, which, if further probed about, Phoenix knew he wouldn’t have a satisfactory reply to. Not one that made _sense_. Or seemed _appropriate._

_Or makes appropriate sense…_

He sighed soundlessly. Hell, he may as well quit kidding himself. Whether he wanted to concede to it or not, the fact remained that he was more excited than he cared to admit, either to Grey, or even _himself_ , about his reunion with his best friend.

The sun was a radiant, all-watching eye, its light creeping into every corner, bathing the whole world in a warm glow. The car cruised down a twisting road, grassy, forest green hills looming over the mountainous drive. An endless expanse of turquoise wonder, shimmering a liquid gold, stretched towards the distant horizon.

Dr. Grey scampered away to ready himself for the channeling as soon as they arrived in Kurain Village, leaving Phoenix alone to absorb the sight of Maya’s hometown for the very first time.

Moss and lichen-covered boulders sprawled in the rockery of Mother Nature. At first glance, there was no trace of civilization in this wilderness, apart from a worn-out path that snaked through the blanket of grass leading to the entrance to the village.

Feeling his lungs bursting with fresh air, he observed the sunlight cascading down a gap of clouds into an azure blue lake. Around it, the vegetation was lush with dew and resembled an ocean waving in the breeze. As he tilted his head up, he saw the path fade into a void of mist and bare twigs. On the horizon, mountains reached up to the sky, seemingly trying to pluck and rival the sun. The homey smell of pine drifted in the air, lingering gently like a charm. Birds twittered and gossiped in the tall mighty trees.

Due to the surreal ambiance, it was hard to believe that he wouldn't encounter a pack of trolls or fairies on the go, it was so remote.

But as he walked along further and drew nearer to Kurain's gates, he could make out several Japanese-style residential homes and buildings, set in the style of Feudal Japan. 

As he strolled through the main entrance, the lawyer couldn’t help but marvel at the serene, breathtaking atmosphere and the peaceful tranquility of the place, so different from the hectic hustle and bustle of the city life he was accustomed to.

_So this is Kurain Village, Maya's hometown._

Suddenly, a young girl came across his path, as if out of nowhere.

Startled, Phoenix halted in his tracks as the child stared at him silently, the expression on her adorable face completely unreadable.

The girl was a slight little thing, small for her age, which he guessed to be somewhere between 6 and 8, with enormous, doe-like eyes. They fixed unblinkingly upon him, set an in a diminutive, doll-like face with accompanying features – a tiny snub nose, porcelain skin, and rosebud lips. Her light brown hair was worn in a double loop atop her head, and she wore a miniature version of Maya’s lavender acolyte robes on her tiny frame.

"W-Why, hello there,” Phoenix spoke at last, when it became evident that the girl wasn’t going to speak.

After staring at him for another breath, without a word, the girl ran off, making the defense attorney wonder, not for the first time, if she’d had a fear or aversion to his _hair_. Was it too spiky? Not spiky enough? Probably the former. After all, at first sight, his spikes _were_ rather daunting…Maya always teased him about gelling them into such sharp points, even though he’d told her a million times they were _real_! He sensed she didn’t believe him!

“Hmm... What an odd little girl…” he murmured to himself.

“Hey! Wait up, Pearly!!” A strangely familiar voice called in the distance.

_Hmm? Someone else is coming this way..._

“Niiiiiiiick!” Materializing as though from thin air, much like the little girl had, all of a sudden, Maya was in front of him, a huge ear-to-ear grin on her face, hands clasped in front of her delightedly as her sparkling gaze took in the sight of him.

His friend still looked the same, with the customary lavender robes, sandals, and topknot – yet still so _different_ , in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She looked and acted like she was still the same perky Maya...so why couldn’t he stop staring at her as though he'd never seen her before? Was it _him_ that was just seeing her through a stranger’s eyes after so long?

Phoenix mentally shook his head and spoke quickly over his accelerating heart-rate, which he convinced himself was simply due to the impromptu appearance of his assistant, and absolutely naught else.

“M-Maya." He found his voice quivering inexplicably. "How are you...? It's good to see you again.”

Her dark eyes glowed as she beamed at him. 

“Wow, I didn't think you'd really show up!”

Phoenix felt his cheeks redden at the unconcealed joy on her face, as though _his mere presenc_ e was the equivalent of Mardi Gras, The Fourth of July, and Christmas all rolled into one for her. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he found himself returning the smile, although he forced his own to be more contained.

“It's not that big a deal. You made it sound like you were soooo far away,” he teased.

“Well, maybe I exaggerated...” She shrugged, her exuberance now also somewhat restrained to match his. “Just a little.”

The attorney found himself wanting to throttle and hug the girl simultaneously then. All these months he’d spent, mooning over the loss of his friend’s company from his side, and she’d literally only been on the _other side of a mountain! If only he’d known! Why hadn’t she told him?_ Didn’t she _know_ how much he’d _missed_ her?

“It was a 90-minute car ride…and apparently only 2 hours by train. If I had known you were _this_ close, I'd have visited more,” he spoke lightly and tried to keep the accusing tone out of his voice.

“No! You're not allowed.” Maya grinned unapologetically. “I already decided, you know. Until I become an adult, I have to work hard and be strong _by myself_.”

Phoenix swallowed. Of _course_. She’d been _busy_. Maya didn’t need him around all the time, not when she had these important Master in Training matters to attend to. He decided then and there to not let her know how lost he’d been without her or do anything to make her feel guilty about her commendable decision to try and better herself.

It wasn’t as though she _lived and breathed_ for _him_ , right? He should try to do the same, and be less needy and more independent as well. After all, _he_ already _was_ an adult.

“Oh... well...” He forced a smile. “Anyway, congratulations. I'm glad to hear training is going well for you.”

They chatted some more while the spirit medium explained the details of what she knew about Dr. Grey’s case. It turned out that the mysterious little girl he’d seen earlier was her cousin, Pearl, also a spirit medium.

“Isn’t she adorable?” Maya flashed an impish grin. “Just like yours truly!”

Before he could deny or refute the veracity of the statement, his ex-assistant went on to explain that Pearl was very sheltered and didn’t know much of life outside of “Medium Valley,” which was why she’d run off at the sight of him. She assured him that it was “nothing personal, her mom taught her to be wary of strangers” and that she would grill up some juicy burgers for them as soon as the channeling session was over.

Phoenix listened intently, then wished her good luck and looked away, purposefully keeping his expression guarded. Then, not knowing what else to do or say, he scuffed the ground beneath him with his shoe, dropping his eyes so she wouldn’t see his face.

The diviner tittered slightly to hide the nervousness she’d hoped to have disguised with her ramblings, but then as she studied Phoenix’s downcast gaze, she realized he somehow looked – _displeased_?

 _Why_? Had she hurt his feelings somehow? Wasn’t he _happy_ to see her? She’d wanted so desperately to prove her worth to him, and not let him see her until she was able to do so… surely he _understood_ that? _Didn’t_ he?

_Guys are so weird! Nick’s here now, so what else_ **_matters_ ** _?_

She regarded her best friend, and only hesitated for another split second before lurching forward, wrapping her arms around him in an effusive hug that belied anything that she could have said or wanted to say. 

In Phoenix’s embrace, the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no rain. Maya’s mind was at peace. How could it be that she hadn't ever before realized how much could be conveyed between them with such a simple gesture, without a single spoken word required? As she held his muscled body close, all she could feel radiating from him was security, peace, and undemanding comfort. She reveled in pressing against his firmness and warmth. This was the moment that for so long, she'd waited for, prayed for. She inwardly thanked God and hugged him all the tighter, wishing she could speak what was in her heart. But even if nothing else, Nick was her _friend_ , he had come as she’d asked, and they were together again. 

A friendship like this was to be cherished for life. In his arms, at last, finally, Maya was _home_. 

“I’ve missed you, Old Man!” She laughed, allowing herself the brief sensation of burying her head against his chest as his arms reflexively wrapped around her back, holding her close as he stroked her hair, allowing her to breathe in the familiar, heavenly feel and scent of his body and the even, steady thud of his heartbeat, unlike her own, which was suddenly pounding wildly at being so close to him after so long that she was sure he could _hear_ it!

Blushing furiously at her schoolgirl romanticisms, she pulled away, not even noticing that she’d needed to be the first to break the embrace, and peeked up at him through her lashes, for once grateful she had too-long bangs that covered, and in this case, helped disguise, her eyes.

“I’ve gotta go get ready for the channeling, Nick. I’ll see you later.”

Maya scurried off before Phoenix could reply.

He stood there, staring after her for a moment, shaking his head, trying to clear it.  
  
 _What the heck just happened?!_

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright_**  
 _Fey Manor, Channeling Chamber_  
June 19, 2017

He hadn’t thought he’d ever come across anyone with a more _obnoxious_ coiffure than that agitating Southern journalist with the big puffy hair that looked like cotton candy whose mostly incomprehensible accent rivaled her ‘fro as an irritating distraction. What had been her name again? _Lotta Hard? Lotta Hair?_

Nevertheless, the icy, supercilious Aunt Morgan won the grand prize most for terrible tresses, _hands down_.

_Just_ **_how_ ** _many moose did she need to kill to get that gravity-defying hairdo?_

Hair aside, Phoenix hated Morgan Fey at first sight.

It was very rare for the good-natured attorney to dislike anyone, but in this case, he was certain the feeling between him and Pearl’s mother was entirely mutual.

Oh, Morgan had certainly greeted him cordially enough when they’d met, calling him “Good Sir” and saying that she’d heard a lot about him from Maya – all _good_ , he hoped! – but things had only gone downhill then after. She’d curtly informed him it was _most unbecoming_ how much he asked of “Mystic Maya”, without whom he’d undoubtedly have lost his last case, had she not channeled Mia.

He bristled at the words. 

_First, a girl that runs away, and now an old lady who says I stink at doing my job...when did I become the poster boy for "How Not to Make a First Impression"...?!_

Then, _The Hair_ had talked down to him as though he were a blathering imbecile when he’d accidentally touched one of the holy sacraments within the channeling chamber, which were offerings to the spirits, and would become _cursed_ by his tainted fingers! The icing on the cake had to have been when she’d asked him to refrain from affiliations with her angelic little Pearl, to keep the child of “pure heart who knew not of the evils of this world.”

When he’d presented her with a photo of Maya, the blasted woman had become _unhinged_ , demanding to know when he’d taken a hidden picture of Mystic Maya and then, to his complete incomprehension, had proceeded to _slap_ him for such an unforgivable action, despite his impotent protests that “it wasn’t like that!”

Slightly injured and dumbfounded by the unpreceded hostility, Phoenix left shortly afterward.

He wandered around the grounds of the estate a bit more after that, stumbling across a sleeping form in the Side Room, Dr. Grey, who was once again blathering about the weather, (this time cursing the weather girl for claiming it was supposed to have rained cats and dogs that day but hadn’t), and Lotta Hart, who was there for some ridiculous reason or other, something about wanting to be a paranormal photographer now.

The journalist and her ever-present camera accompanied him back to the Channeling Chamber doors, which Maya and Grey were now inside of.

Lotta whined to The Hair, asking “Granny” why they weren’t allowed inside to spectate.

Phoenix nearly wilted from the arctic look of disdain the older woman gave the redhead.

“Dear Madam, you have an "impressive" grasp of English. From where did you learn it?”

“What!?” Lotta yelped indignantly, her nerve-grating twang increasing. “I'm from the heart of the heartland!”

“Is that so?” Morgan fixed the younger woman with a look so frosty that it could have made her morph into an igloo. “Then I humbly request that you return to this _Heart of the Heartland_ ”

“Wh-What are ya...?”

“This is Kurain Village,” Morgan’s tone was lofty. “If you cannot follow our traditions and rules, _we request that you leave_!”

Lotta’s face flamed, and her shoulders drooped dejectedly at the verbal assault.

“Sorry.”

 _Wow. She shut Lotta up! Now THAT's impressive!_ Phoenix was torn between admiration and pity. _Maybe it’s nothing personal towards me at all, and The Hair is just a nasty, mean old biddy to_ ** _everybody_** _!_

The three stood there, waiting for the channeling to be over, in uneasy silence.

 **BANG**!

A loud, sharp noise suddenly sounded out of the blue, breaking the stillness.

“Hey now!” Lotta yelled. “Wh-What was that just now!?”

Phoenix jolted, suddenly on high alert. _It came from inside the Channeling Chamber...!_

**BANG!**

“Hey!” Lotta sounded alarmed. “Th-That's a gunshot!”

“E-Excuse me!?” Morgan glared at them both, not seeming to share the mounting panic that was evident on both Phoenix and Lotta’s faces.

“I've heard that sound before!” Lotta hollered. “It's a gunshot! I'd bet my afro on it!”

 _M-Maya!_ Phoenix’s heart thudded against his ribs as epinephrine began to course through his veins _. Maya's in there!_

He cast a quick, appraising glance at the locked double doors leading to the chamber, to which Maya had the only key. The doors were scratched and dented with chipped brown varnish, apparently to keep out the worst of the weather, rather than intruders, and framed with what looked like a plank of wood around the outside edges and one across the middle for strength. It had the clawed, slightly bubbly look of wood that was starting to rot at the joints.

They were the only thing standing between him and his best friend.

A creepy sense of déjà vu came over Phoenix. Maya needed him. She was in trouble again. He could _feel_ it.

After a moment’s deliberation, and shouting at Morgan to not even think of stopping him and to bill his office for the damages, an adrenaline-fueled Phoenix charged at the doors full force, using his broad shoulders as a battering ram.

“Now that’s what I call a man!” Lotta crowed behind him.

Frantic and nearly mad with panic and fear, Phoenix didn’t hear her. All his attentions were focused on rescuing Maya from whatever terrible danger she was in. He needed to protect her!

**CRASH!**

After only two tries, Phoenix busted down that door. In hindsight, he had no idea how he’d managed to do it– the ancient wood was heavier and sturdier than he’d realized, although he felt no pain from his bodily impact – the worse damage appeared to have been done to the _doors_!

_It doesn't seem possible, but I managed to break it pretty badly. When we want to do something bad enough, people can do the most amazing things._

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Detention Centre, Visitor’s Room_  
June 20, 2017, 10:34 AM

In the traditional manner of the _LAPD being at its finest_ , Maya was once again charged with murder, this time of Dr. Grey, who’d been found within a puddle of blood inside the chamber when Phoenix and Lotta had burst in.

“Maya!” He cried when he saw her, looking shaken and vulnerable as the bailiff escorted her in.

“N- Nick!” She wailed hysterically. “I’m so scared! What am I going to do! I never imagined it would turn out like _this_!”

Phoenix felt sick to his stomach as he saw her tear-stained face, wishing he could reach through the heavy glass that separated them, hold her in his arms, and comfort her somehow. The girl was so small and defenseless looking, and so _helpless_. His heart ached that she had to endure this fresh hell again, and so soon after the last tragedy.

 _Maya Fey is a good, wonderful, warm, caring person!_ He raged internally. _Why does this sort of thing keep happening to her?!_

“Calm down, Maya,” Phoenix struggled to keep his voice level and professional, even though it was very much personal this time around. “Take deep breaths.”

_Come to think of it, the first time I met her, it all started right here, in this detention center...yup, definitely déjà vu all over again…_

She gulped back a sob. “I finally...I _finally_ get to see you again, _and_...” her voice broke.

“It's _not_ your fault.” Phoenix’s voice was gentle but firm. “You _didn't_ do it.”

“No, I... I _did_ it…” Maya insisted, sniffling. “I killed that person.”

“That wasn’t you.”

“It doesn't matter. It _might as well_ have been _me_!” Maya wept. “I was too weak... and I...I couldn't control the spirit's power, so...” She buried her face in her hands to hide her tears.

Phoenix felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. He hated to see her cry.

“You don't have to be nice to me. I understand…” Maya choked out miserably.  
  
 _I’m such a pebble in the shoe of this man, I bring him more trouble than I’m worth!_ She thought wildly _. And I dream of making him_ ** _love_** _me? As if! I’m such a_ ** _nuisance_** _…a_ ** _burden_** _! He must secretly_ ** _despise_** _me…I’m like an albatross around his neck! If only I’d just stayed away from him! If only…if only…_

He cleared his throat where a lump was rapidly forming. It was getting harder and harder for him to remain composed and remain at a mere professional level of sympathy. He didn’t want to even think about why.

“Let’s just go over what we know so far, OK, Maya?” 

They went over Maya’s recollection of the events from the time of the channeling to the murder itself, including the strange dream she’d had. Phoenix listened intently and took as many notes as he could. He knew Maya Fey. She was no murderer – the girl couldn’t even kill a _bug_ – she always jumped up on a chair and shrieked for _him_ to bludgeon them, for heaven’s sake! And he wasn’t going to rest until he’d proven her innocence, no matter how much to the contrary she protested!

Finally, it seemed Phoenix had taken as much information from her as he could – Maya looked positively drained now. Plus the guard was motioning to them that his time was almost up.

“I'll be back later, Maya.” Phoenix smiled bravely for her sake as he rose. “In the meantime, please make sure you prepare it, OK?”

Maya looked at him dazedly. “Huh? _It_? What is _it_?”

“The document requesting me to be your attorney, of course.” He flashed her the most encouraging smile he could muster.

For once, the necromancer seemed at loss for words. She gawked at him.

“But…”

“What's wrong?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I'm guilty!” She whispered, looking at him with tormented eyes. “I'm a _murderer_!”

“No one's decided that yet.” Phoenix shook his head vehemently. Maya wasn’t the only one who could be stubborn. _He_ would believe in her innocence even if _she_ couldn’t. He’d believe enough for them both.

“But I did it! I killed that person... with these...two hands...!” She hung her head and tears filled her eyes again.

“That's enough, Maya.” He pressed his lips together as he tried with all his might to hold it together. He felt himself unraveling at the seams, he was so upset now.

“It's hopeless!” She whimpered. “If you defend me, you'll lose, I'm sure...”

This was even worse than the time he had defended Edgeworth. He didn’t know _why_. It just _was_. He couldn’t even pretend he was cool, calm, and collected anymore. He just… _couldn’t_. 

“ _Stop it!!!”_ Phoenix yelled, thumping his fist against the glass, startling them both.

Maya looked searchingly into his eyes then, and to her amazement, saw _tears_ in the distraught sapphire gaze. It both comforted and confused her, knowing how much he cared. But what good would it do if she was behind bars for the rest of her life? Or sent to death row? She hadn’t felt this terrified and alone since… _last year._

“Help me...” she begged as her eyes welled up again. “Nick, _help me_ …I'm so scared...”

“Don't worry, I will,” Phoenix whispered hoarsely, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. This girl’s tears would be his undoing for certain if he did. “When is the trial?”

The trial would be the following day, giving him nearly zero prep time.

 _Time to make another trip to the scene of the crime._ Phoenix sighed. _Good thing I work best under pressure…I_ ** _have_** _to save Maya._ ** _No matter what_** _._

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey_**  
_Kurain Village_  
June 20, 2017 

_And even though the weather is gorgeous today, it's raining inside my heart..._

After the emotional scene at the detention center with Maya, Phoenix’s mind and heart were in a complete state of turmoil. Ergo, he admittedly wasn’t in the best of moods, or the right state of mind.

That was his only plausible excuse for his irrational, out of character behavior with the Southern She-Devil. Somehow, the woman knew how to get on his last nerve, all of which were admittedly frayed. 

Phoenix had come across Lotta sniffing around the village entrance, where of course the topic of Maya had come up after the journalist had boasted about the “hot pictures” her camera had captured.

For the record, he _hadn’t_ asked for her opinion on his friend. She’d _volunteered_ it. After which, he’d _completely_ lost it.

“Now, this kid,” the Southerner had then declared, flicking her finger against his photo of Maya. “I think she needs to be taught some manners. This here's her _second_ time in the stew, right? My Pa woulda slapped me straight!”

“Y-Yeah...” Phoenix muttered darkly, taking the photo out of her offending reach and mentally counting to ten to curb his mounting anger.

Lotta smirked and gave him a knowing look.

“Ya know what they say, if there's a second time, there's bound to be a third, and a fo-”

It was Doug Swallows from college all over again. That had been the only other time the pacifistic Phoenix Wright had ever gotten physically violent with another human being. Doug had been talking smack about Feenie’s beloved Dollie, warning the then naïve, besotted fool that the demon girl was bad news and to steer clear of her. It didn’t matter that ultimately, poor Doug had been right in his futile warning.

All the spiky-haired had heard was someone bad-mouthing the woman he loved.

Infuriated and unaware of his own strength, Phoenix had reacted entirely out of reflex, shoving the other man, hard, to the ground.

History repeated itself at that moment. Lotta Hart never got to finish her obnoxious, semi-slanderous sentence.

Phoenix didn’t even stop or take time to think. In an uncharacteristic fit of temper, the normally peace-loving, spiky-haired man’s hand reached out, as though he had no control of it, and connected against the side of the frog mouthed woman’s completely unprepared cheek, leaving a bright red mark from the open-palmed blow.

Her head jerked back from the smack but she didn’t fall back. More than likely the excess weight of her afro kept her grounded and balanced upright!

He quickly withdrew his hand, knowing he’d been wrong, but unable to stop himself from still glaring daggers at the frog-mouthed, too big for her britches troublemaker, silently daring her to continue.

 _I’m_ ** _not_** _apologizing_! Phoenix fumed. _God forgive me, but I’m not. I_ ** _won’t_** _!_ ** _Nobody_** _, but_ ** _nobody_** _talks smack about Maya in front of me. Not as long as my heart is beating and the blood is coursing through my veins!_

“OW!” Lotta whined, clapping a hand to her face, looking at him like a wounded puppy. “ _Nngh_! Ya didn't have to slap me. I get it, I get it. Sorry...” 

Phoenix couldn’t stand being in the irksome woman’s presence another moment. He simply spun on his heel and walked away.

To say his nerves were _shot_ after that would have been quite the understatement. Coming right on the heels of that undesirable scene, where he _still couldn’t fathom why_ he’d reacted the way he had – _Dahlia_ had been his _girlfriend_ at the time, after all, _Maya,_ contrary to what Pearl believed, was _not_! – it seemed the close encounters of the worst kind were nowhere near an end for him.

Next was another unpleasant confrontation with Morgan where she’d schooled him on the errors of his ways in not referring to his friend as “Mystic Maya” among other disturbing things. 

After that came the insufferable chatting session with _aggravating, air-headed_ valley-girl, Ini. With each subsequent encounter, Phoenix found he only further _like, totally wanted to shake her_ , every time he spoke with her.

It was only his guilt from losing his temper with _one_ woman already kept him from succumbing to the urges!

As soon as that ended, he meandered towards the Winding Way, only to bump into Pearl _again_.

“Ack!” He exclaimed, then lowered his voice so as not to scare her away again. “Y-You surprised me!”

This time, she didn’t run. But she didn’t speak, either.

Phoenix smiled at Pearl.

“And how are you today?” He asked at last.

Pearl simply stared at him.

_Hmm... I guess she isn't open to friendly chatting... If only I had something that would catch her interest. Maybe then she'd talk to me…_

Desperately, he flashed the little girl Maya’s green, slightly translucent magatama, hoping to instigate some sort of conversation.

“Oh yeah. Maya said to give this to you.”

Pearl stared at the mystical stone for a moment, then back at him.

Then she promptly burst into tears.

 _Ack! I'm in trouble now!!_ Phoenix’s eyes widened in alarm. _If Morgan sees us like this,_ ** _I'll_** _be the next one they're channeling!_

“Th-That's...That's Mystic Maya's…” Pearl sniffed.

“Huh?” _She actually spoke?!_

 _"_ Who are you?"

“I-I'm Phoenix Wright,” he stammered, still unaccustomed to hearing her speak. “I, uh, worked with Maya... 

“Y-You worked with Mystic Maya...?” A look of recognition dawned on her cherubic face. “You... You're Mr. Nick, right?” 

“Uh, excuse me?” _I bet I know who she picked "Nick" up from..._

“I know who you are!” Pearl pressed her palms to her cheeks and went starry-eyed. “You're...You're Mystic Maya's... _Special Someone_!” 

“WH-WH-WH-WHAT!?” Phoenix was gobsmacked. Where in the world had _that_ come from?! 

“So then...Of course!” Pearl continued happily, oblivious to his thunderstruck expression. “You're going to help Mystic Maya, aren't you? That's what you're going to do, right?” 

He was still flabbergasted. “W-Well, yeah... I will...” 

“Oh wow... It's like a beautiful fairy tale!” Pearl’s expression was dreamy. “That earnest look shining brightly in your eyes... It must be true love...” 

“Wh-What!?” Was all he could manage to get out, while he felt his cheeks flame, to his utter mortification and bewilderment. 

_What is wrong with me?! I’m a grown man! So why am I being boiled into a bright red lobster by this little kid!?_

“I'm so jealous of Mystic Maya!” Pearl prattled on. “Ah, what a wonderful relationship!”

 _We’re in a_ ** _relationship_** _? The_ ** _man_** _truly is always the last one to know…! I’ve got to set her straight…Maya doesn’t like me in_ ** _that_** _way!_ ** _Does she?!_**

“W-Wait... I... uhh... I mean... We aren't... Things aren't like...”

Phoenix was going to blame the stress of his best friend’s _second_ murder trial being the _very next day_ for the fact that he was _suddenly unable to form a proper sentence!_ While he was at it, he was also going to make _that_ be the reason why he simply wasn’t going to further explore the concept of where Pearl could have _possibly_ gotten such a… _ridiculous_ notion! _And_ why he wasn’t even going to stop and contemplate if he _even remotely_ had _ever_ thought of Maya as…anything _other_ than his _assistant_. _Best friend_. _**Chief’s baby sister**_. 

OK, so she was 18 now and _technically_ legal _but_ … 

_Hold it Phoenix! Maya needs a lawyer right now,_ ** _nothing_** _else!_

“Hee hee, I can tell you're a good person.” Pearl giggled at his tell-tale blush, taking it as acquiescence to her statement. "Alright, Mr. Nick! I may be small, but I'm going to help you in any way I can!” 

Phoenix was endeared how much Pearl looked up to Maya, more like a sister than just a cousin, and positively sang her praises. 

“She's so smart, and pretty, and kind, and loving!” The tiny spirit medium chirped. “She's always cheerful, never gets sick, isn't picky, and has good sleeping habits. She always wakes up before me, and always eats breakfast before me too.” 

He merely smiled softly in response. 

“And she has _you_ ,” Pearl added. “Such a wonderful person with whom she can share a lo-” 

“Ack! OK, OK! I get the idea!” Phoenix exclaimed, feeling himself redden again as he cursed the fact that the mere innocent implications – which bore _no foundations_! – of the tiny tot had made him continually blush like a love-struck schoolboy on command, for some _unfathomable_ reason! Also, he was completely unable to refute any of this staggering _evidence_ of how wonderful Maya was.

Which made this most recent unjustified tragedy that had befallen her all the more disheartening. 

After chatting with Pearl further – and thereby dubbing her _Pearls_ henceforth, citing she was too cute to call merely _Pearl_ , the defense attorney went about further investigations, with a fully charged magatama in his pocket, and a heavy burden in his heart at all the mounting evidence piling up against Maya.

Talking to Gumshoe, he found out that Lotta Hart would be a witness at the trial, which could never be a good thing. Neither was knowing the opposition would be Manfred Von Karma’s kid, yet another prodigal prosecuting genius who’d honed their talents in Europe.

Prodigy Prosecutor. 

It was all bringing back terrible flashbacks to _that_ case.

Edgeworth’s.

Miles Edgeworth, who had chosen death…

_Stop it! Get over it Phoenix! That person is gone now! Maya needs you to keep it together! This is neither the time nor place to get emotional!_

Phoenix didn’t know who he was kidding.

When it came to Maya Fey, all rational thought and logic _flew right out the window!_

It would be nearly another year before he figured out why.


	80. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not the flash friend, the one everyone wants to copy and follow around... I'm the raw and vulnerable friend, the one who wears her heart on her sleeve and makes it okay for you to do the same."

**_Phoenix Wright_**  
June 23, 2017

Looking back at that second trial, Phoenix still couldn't fathom how after six months apart from his best friend, he'd gotten her back in his life, only to have to defend her against her _second_ ersatz murder charge, approximately _five minutes after she'd re-entered it_!

Of course, it had turned out Maya was innocent of the accused crime, as he'd suspected all along, and she was free to go once again. He really couldn't help but reflect on the competency of the LAPD as well as the Prosecutor's Office; _how many more_ bogus trials would they make poor Maya have to go through before they all realized that she simply wasn't capable of taking a human life?!

Man, he'd thought _Edgeworth_ had been brutal to square off against in court. Miles Edgeworth had been a _cakewalk_ compared to what he'd gone through when he'd defended Maya against the _sadistically whip happy_ Franziska Von Karma, Manfred's daughter. Her attractive exterior and petite stature were supremely misleading – that whip of hers… _boy… did it hurt_! While Phoenix had an admittedly high pain tolerance, in the ultimate act of being a _sore loser_ , the enraged German _still_ managed to whip him at one point till he'd _passed out_.

He still shuddered at the memory.

Of course, normal daily occurrences would also have him shuddering…but mostly only when he looked at his bank account statements and credit card bills…

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
July 14, 2017, 7:30 PM

_She just thinks of me as a brother!_ Phoenix's mind cried pitifully.

 _Objection! She made sure you came to see her before she agreed to channel Mimi Ini,_ his heart argued. _She has put complete trust in you several times. There's the fact that she got tasered by Von Karma for the DL-6 evidence. The fact that when she's in trouble, **you're** all she thinks about. The little hints she drops, the **glances** you know you've caught her casting just outside your field of vision... shall I go on_?

 _Lord help me, this is hopeless!_ The Ace Attorney groaned as he swore and tried to readjust his tie for the umpteenth time. _I can't even decide from my heart and mind which is winning! I mean…what the hell is wrong with me? I've been in court for too long!_

The spiky-haired man studied himself up and down in the mirror and attempted a smile. He straightened out his shirt and ran a hand through his hair; trying to fix it up the best he could with the little gel he had left on his hand.

That weekend had Larry invited them to tag along to a splashy cocktail affair. It was a "Model Party" that was being held at a swanky restaurant sponsored by the talent agency of his flavor of the month girlfriend. Larry insisted they keep him company as his gal pal would be too busy rubbing elbows and hobnobbing. Her name was Heidi Lobes, whose cover girl claim to fame was that she was the poster girl on the subway ads for _Clear My Ears_ anti-ear odor spray and _Sitting Pretty_ hemorrhoid cream.

He felt ridiculously nervous. Little Pearl was away training in Kurain that weekend – normally she was up in the village throughout the week and spent Friday through Sunday nights at his place – so she wouldn't be there tonight as the much-needed buffer between him and Maya during that evening's plans.

Plans that felt an awful lot like…a _date_ of sorts.

The mere notion made him panic. This wasn't mere burgers or Samurai dogs at the park. This was getting dressed up, both of them, and mingling amongst other adults in a formal setting... _together_.

Suddenly the idea of staying home and spending their usual Friday nights watching the brain-numbing _Steel Samurai_ on TV while being surrounded by headache-inducing, MSG-filled Chinese food takeout boxes sounded infinitely more appealing.

Lately, all he could think about was the spirit medium in training currently taking up the spot on the small sofa next to him. Sure, she was quite the handful sometimes, and she was the reason his wallet seemed to never have over fifty dollars inside, but she always managed to smile regardless of the situation and stood by him throughout his many cases. That was something he could seriously appreciate in the moments he had where everything he was trying to accomplish seemed impossible.

Still, that was not a very good excuse for why she was occupying his thoughts _as of late_. Thoughts he was uncomfortable with thinking. Such as earlier that day, when he'd accidentally caught a glimpse of Maya, who'd obviously forgotten her bathrobe in the bedroom, making the mad dash out of the shower wearing nothing but a skimpy towel. He'd noted that she had developed some curves on her formerly lanky frame. The questions in his mind, where he'd occasionally wonder what was under that purple robe had unwittingly been answered!

And now that he'd gotten a firsthand glimpse of the _said answer_ , it was harder than usual to resume his normal reaction of slapping himself inwardly at the perverted thought and quickly begin to think about something else entirely!

_Baseball. Kittens. My grandma's neon-green sweater. Wendy Oldbag in a bikini… Gah! Why did I have to go there?!_

This train of thought was only followed by a series of more questions he had no answer to.

Why had his mind even wandered down that path, anyway?

Maya was nothing more than his friend…right?

 _Right_.

So no, he shouldn't think thoughts like that. Maya was _just a friend_.

 _Just a friend, just a friend, just a friend_. He tried to drill it into his head, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling.

He made a mental note to accompany her next time she went to train at the waterfall he had found close by for her. He could use the freezing cold of the beating water to clear his mind.

Perhaps he could just talk this out with her. After all, communication was what you were supposed to have with your best friend, right?

_Maybe I should just fully go for it and confess these conflicting feelings?_

_Sure. Great. Who am I kidding? She'd completely freak out!_ He facepalmed _. I can just picture how it would go…_

" _Look, Maya, ever since you've come back into my life, I've had these weird feelings for you . . . and at first, I didn't know what they were but lately, I've been starting to think that, well- maybe I'm a bit attracted to you. As more than a friend and I know this is incredibly stupid and will probably wreck our friendship and you're way too young and pretty and outgoing for a stodgy Old Man like me really but …"_ Sighing he stopped and rolled his eyes _. Yeah, that'll convince her, Phoenix. Point out all the reasons why she shouldn't ever consider you. Mmm, **sexy**! **Not**!_

The defense lawyer had decided to try to spruce up for the affair, and in a surprise turn of events, Maya for once hadn't commanded he take her shopping. She had figured she'd just throw on something of Mia's, joking that if this had been for a wedding or something more grandeur, she'd have ensured that she dragged him to the mall to get her a new outfit. Ergo, he should consider himself _lucky_ that she was letting him off easy this time!

Maybe he should go for flattery? Hmmm…women liked compliments, didn't they?

Phoenix put on his most sincere expression in front of the mirror as he rehearsed how this preliminary speech would sound.

"Truly, you're not just pleasing to the eye but _take my breath away_ beautiful…"

"Wow, Narcissus, I've heard of learning to love yourself, but this is just ridiculous," Maya drawled.

Spinning around, blushing furiously, the blue attorney caught sight of his friend standing in the door frame, grinning broadly. He leaped away from the glass, realizing how bad this must have looked, but not knowing how else to explain the scenario, which, fortunately, since she was acting like her normal, jesting self, she hadn't figured out.

"I guess I should be flattered that you've taken such efforts this evening, considering it's just _me_ who you're escorting to this shindig and _I'm_ the one who's got to look at you all night." Maya was still grinning. "Kudos on the rarely seen black suit and tie that's been collecting dust in your closet along with the hair-gel…I get making the effort, but you _are_ aware that vanity is a sin, right, _Wright_?"

He flushed. He knew by now not to take anything Maya said personally, as she was total kidder who liked to bust his balls all the time. If he took her jibes seriously, he'd truly have very low self-esteem, since Maya liked to make fun of him _a lot_.

"Maya, there's nothing wrong with looking after yourself. If I want to look nice for this soiree, I will," he replied coolly. "So, how _do_ I look?" He extended his arms and turned in a circle, giving her an all-around view and raised his eyebrow.

Caught off guard by the question, which he'd never asked her before, Maya found herself uncharacteristically speechless. Jokes aside, Phoenix looked quite nice.

 _Nice_? Oh please, who was she kidding?

Phoenix was truly a handsome sight to behold; the blue shirt he'd opted for to go with the black suit brightened his sapphire eyes to a lighter shade of royal blue. He looked downright _delectable_ in that outfit.

Her date that night was a babe. And here _she_ was, in turn, in Mia's oversized hand-me-down dress, like a little girl playing dress-up. She'd be lucky if some slutty model didn't dig her claws into him that night and drag him off to Paris or Milan or something.

Answering him in a quiet voice she said, "They might mistake you for one of the male models at this fiesta tonight."

He felt his cheeks redden at the unaccustomed praise, and took a good look at Maya, who was picturesque sophistication personified.

While Mia had been much taller and more… _endowed_ than her little sister, the two were the same shoe size, and about equally as slender. The Chief's Chinese-print dress had the glamorous retro look of the 70's. It was a long-sleeved, black printed silk shirtdress with an allover white print. The spread collar, buttoned cuffs, concealed placket, curved hem, and a loosely tailored fit was cinched with a self-tie satin sash around the waist. On Mia, it would have been knee-to-mid length, but on Maya, the modest dress fell to her toes, even in the raised platform pumps he saw peeking under the hemline. A jeweled clutch was in her hand.

The girl wasn't even wearing any makeup, as her natural beauty needed none whatsoever. Already he knew, that even in a room full of models, he'd be there with the prettiest girl at the party.

Phoenix's words died in his throat then, and he found himself unable to return the compliment, even though he desperately yearned to.

He was saved by the bell, literally, at that moment when the phone rang. Grateful for the reprieve, he grabbed it quickly.

"Wright & Co. Offices…"

"Mr. Nick! Have you confessed your love to Mystic Maya yet?" Shouted a voice Maya and Phoenix knew all too well, resounding throughout the small room with no requirement of a speakerphone.

"Pearly! Don't tell me you've taken a break from your important spiritual training just to bother us with this thing again!" Maya felt the heat rise in her cheeks and she looked down, obviously embarrassed by the bluntness of her starry-eyed cousin.

"Why? It's going to happen one day isn't it?" Pearl demanded. " _Right_ , Mr. Nick?"

Phoenix blushed as well, shaking his head profusely before he realized Pearl couldn't see him over the phone.

Pearl sighed in a way no 8-year-old should be allowed to. "I wanted to check on you, Mystic Maya. To see if Mr. Nick was treating you in all the right ways!"

 _She says it like we're dating_ , Phoenix groaned inwardly. Dating someone wasn't on the list of his priorities at the moment. Being a lawyer was – or so he kept trying to tell himself. _Why is Pearls always so keen on having the two of us date?_

Maya awkwardly cleared her throat. "He certainly is. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Goody!" Pearl crowed happily. "Is he taking you out to get burgers every day?"

He sat back down on his bed, absolutely speechless. He buried his face in his hands and groaned as he felt the blush deepen in his cheeks. _More than twice a day. Why does Pearls care so much?_

Maya's jaw dropped. "...Sure, Pearly."

"That's right!" Pearl squealed. "You'd walk over miles of hot coals for Mystic Maya, wouldn't you, Mr. Nick?"

Pearl _was_ right. Every single wild adventure Maya took them on, Nick carried on with little to no resistance, even if his wallet was empty and he was sore all over at the end of the day. In truth, Maya kept him alive most days.

"Um…" Was all Phoenix could manage in response.

"Good job, Mr. Nick. I _completely_ approve!"

"...Thanks?" Was all Phoenix could think of to say.

"Well," Pearl said. "I'll be going now. Gotta go to training. See you two lovebirds next weekend, okay?"

Maya groaned and said her goodbyes, as did Phoenix. Then she turned to look at him and immediately turned away.

"That was...embarrassing. Sorry about that, Nick."

"It wasn't a problem at all. She does it every day, doesn't she?" Phoenix replied with a sudden grin.

Maya nodded, still mortified. She had talked to her cousin about doing this type of thing before, but she had taken a wild guess and guessed that it didn't stick to Pearl's memory.

"Anyway, let's get going." He rose off the bed and placed his hand on the small of Maya's back, about to usher her out the door when she stopped abruptly, forcing him to do so as well. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him critically.

"What's wrong?" The lawyer asked wearily as she bit her lip while studying him in a manner that was now more diagnostic than complimentary.

"Your tie is on a little weird," she informed him, frowning. Without warning, Maya leaned toward him and stuck her hand at his collar, shifting the silky, flimsy fabric hanging off his neck. With her raised height, her lips were at level with his throat, and he could feel her warm breath and soft skin inadvertently caressed the rough skin exposed above his torso, causing Phoenix to unconsciously erupt into goosebumps.

"Um, um, uhhhh..." he stammered, feeling awkward about the distance between them. He uncomfortably squirmed backward, nudging his assistant away from him.

"Hold still, Nick," Maya commanded. She stepped closer, trying to correct whatever mistake he had made in his mindless hurry to get dressed. He felt his face redden as she bumped up against his body so that she could get a better grip on his clothing.

"I'm almost done..." The psychic continued to fumble with his tie, shifting it. Phoenix wondered whether or not she could feel the fast tempo of his heartbeat now that her chest – which seemed to have grown a bit from when he'd first met her! – was pressed up against his.

Finally, she stepped back, bouncing on the heels of her feet. "There!" She eyed him up and down, seemingly oblivious to his flushed skin, goosebumps, and nervous trembling. "Now you look good."

"Uh, thanks," Phoenix mumbled, trying to suppress a stupid grin. "For that," he lamely added after a brief pause, as if that made a difference.

Maya smiled at her handiwork and nodded her approval.

"Come on, Nick!" she exclaimed. "We don't want to keep The Butz and his _backdoor_ model waiting! Maybe she can score us some samples to give to poor Mr. Grossberg for his ever inflamed 'roids!"

"S-Sorry," Phoenix muttered. He stared at Maya, beginning to suddenly notice everything about her was breathtaking. Her hair was done in a simple bun, with a few strands on either side of her cheeks, caressing her shoulders, and she was an elegant vision in her dress, which was neither too long nor too short.

Even though the girl was a beauty, she wasn't subjecting herself to men in this outfit – never did – and she always blew off the men that approached her, including the Butz on several occasions. It was one of the many things he had always appreciated about her. She was _herself_. She was a channeler or a spirit medium, either name would suffice. Maya was Maya, and that's who Phoenix liked.

 _As a friend. Right…just a friend_.

"About the way you look tonight…" Phoenix, unsure of what to do, stared at the spirit medium. I...um..."

He trailed off uncertainly.

"Yes?" The necromancer smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "Spit it out, Nick."

"I um, I like your hair," he finished lamely, unable to make himself say anything better. "It looks good…um, up like that. More grown-up."

 _How sweet._ He liked her _hair_. The _one_ thing that she hadn't done much with at all! It had taken her ages trying to find something amongst the statuesque Mia's wardrobe that didn't trail past the floor on her overly short frame, or worse, fallen to her navel in the neckline area since Maya didn't possess the required _assets_ to hold the garment up!

Oh well, he'd looked not entirely _displeased_ with her appearance, she'd seen as much in his eyes (or maybe that was wishful thinking on her part!) even if his _mouth_ made him compliment stingy.

"You like my hair, Nick? How sweet!" She opted to go for flippant graciousness. "I like _your_ spiky hair, too. You remind me of a porcupine. A cute porcupine in a blue suit that's black tonight!"

"You _like_ my _hair_ …?" How had he been demoted from being _mistaken for a model_ to being the _prick of the animal kingdom_?

"I do," Maya smiled mischievously. "You're my cute porcupine with pretty eyes!"

"A... _porcupine_? I'm hopefully _cuter_ than a porcupine, Maya!" Phoenix was a little hurt.

Maya leaned close to her friend.

"Did I hurt your feelings, Nick?" She appeared worried for a second and came closer and closer to the attorney's face until they were mere inches apart and nearly lip-to-lip. Then she crushed her lips against his cheek and began to sashay down the hall, flashing a jaunty wink over her shoulder. "Too bad! I'm _not_ apologizing! Porcupines are adorable! Would you rather I call you _Sonic_ , as in the Hedgehog?"

Phoenix just gaped after her in astonishment.

"Now, you know cocktail parties always have stuffy people and undersized food so, after this snooze fest, you owe me a burger or six!" The girl declared. "And _then_ after that, we're watching at least four back-to-back episodes of the _Steel Samurai_! And don't bother making any _objections_ , since they'll all be overruled anyway, Nick!"

The attorney remained rooted in place, grinning widely from ear to ear like an idiot. The only thing he was dreading was buying his assistant _six_ burgers. His wallet could only stand for two burgers. And that was if his burger was about the size of Maya's _Steel Samurai_ charm. He would need to go to an ATM on the way there.

"Hey, wait for me!" The spiky-haired man called as he ran after her. When he came downstairs, he noticed the brunette was waiting at the main office door for him, smiling.

"No need to yell!" Maya grinned. She interlocked her arm with Phoenix's and they were off on their non-date to a model party…followed by a burger...or six.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
August 31, 2017, 6:30 PM

"Nick, _why_ are you _still_ working?!" Maya shrieked. "I told you ages ago I'd be back in half an hour to pick up Pearly from the train station and here's _you_ …" she gestured with annoyance where Phoenix was still at his desk, frowning at the contents of a manila folder filled to the brim. The gleam of the freshly polished surface was completely invisible, buried beneath a sea of papers, pictures, tabs, and paper clips flooded his desktop. " _Still_ trudging away!"

He barely stifled a sigh as he looked up at his assistant standing in the doorway beside little Pearl and her weekend bag. His assistant placed one hand on her slim hip while her angry finger pointed at him, courtroom-style, as she affixed him with her accusing gaze.

Unaccustomed to seeing her good-natured cousin so incensed, the tiny spirit medium merely bit her thumb anxiously and said nothing.

"Maya, you _know_ I have this huge murder trial coming up in a week, right?" Phoenix sighed, knowing his speech would fall on deaf ears. "It's going to take a lot of time and effort to be prepared for it. It's a police officer who was allegedly murdered by another fellow officer …"

"Nick, you've worked on that stupid file for ages…including _all day today_! Time to put your pen down, Old Man, it's Friday night!" Maya whined. "Does that mean _nothing_ to you? At _all_?" When Phoenix made no move to respond and simply stared blankly at her, she crossed her arms across her chest, scowled, and in her most withering voice, informed him, "It's _movie_ night! Which I can tell you _forgot_ all about!"

 _Guilty as charged._ Phoenix admitted silently. "Can't you guys just go ahead without me and I'll catch up once I've got some paperwork completed?"

"But, Nick, we've had movie night _every single Friday_ since I started working here! And- and Pearly just started joining in on the fun. You can't deny _her_ movie night!"

She affixed his face with her best puppy-dog eyes.

"C'mon, Nick," she cajoled, clamping her hands in front of her and dragging out his nickname. "Fridays are a movie night _tradition_!"

Staring at the two females before him, imploring him with their big, bright eyes, Phoenix felt his resolve wavering. In the end, he was a complete pushover for these crazy Fey girls, and Maya knew he'd _never_ be able to refuse Pearl.

With a sigh, the lawyer sank into his swivel chair, placing his forehead in his palm. Defeat had washed over him before the battle had truly started. Hopefully, his _backbone_ would grow before his court date in few days…

"You win, Maya," he sighed. "You _always_ win!"

"Yay!" Maya cheered, already heading upstairs to the loft. "What will it be tonight, _The Steel Samurai_ or _Pink Princess?_ "

 _Like it matters,_ Phoenix thought grumpily. _Either way, I lose!_

"Surprise me!" He called.

"Mr. Nick?" Pearl peered up at him with her large doe eyes. "Um, can I ask you something?"

His annoyance vanished at the nervous hesitation on her cherubic face. Unlike her cousin, who always took for granted that his answer to all requests would be _yes_ , the child had yet to be in a place where she was so presumptuous, which only made Phoenix adore her all the more.

"What's up, Pearls?" He asked kindly.

"Can we order something for dinner? Mystic Maya has been telling me about something called _pee-zah_ and I'm a little hungry."

"Well, far be it for me to deny a growing girl food," Phoenix allowed, grinning at the youngster. "Go on upstairs to the living room. I'll order the pizza and be up in a moment."

* * *

**_Four brain-numbing hours later…_ **

Like the little angel that she was, Pearl had fallen asleep after only one slice and lay curled up on her side, head resting on Phoenix's lap, and Maya occupied the attorney's other side, eyes glued to the TV set and fist-pumping excitedly.

He honestly couldn't fathom how the child could remain in a blissful slumber when her cousin was all but bouncing on the couch while the _Steel Samurai_ twirled his sword about and thrust the victorious blow at the Evil Magistrate, as she shouted words of encouragement at the screen.

"You go _Steel Samurai!_ Kick his ass!"

Phoenix barely suppressed an eye roll as he took a bite of pizza.

_This movie is even worse than the last one – if that's even possible! It's even lamer than Barry Manilow and a three-legged horse combined!_

The end credits began to roll, and the man released a sigh of relief. Well, he had survived _another_ _Steel Samurai_ flick and he had participated in movie night – and even managed to stay awake this time. If that didn't earn him the _Best Friend/Boss of the Year Award_ , he didn't know what _would_!

The teen was still gurgling with child-like delight and she bounced on the cushions, earning a frown from Phoenix as he looked down at the sleeping Pearl, but miraculously, she was still conked out. Maya spotted him trying to shift away and let out a wail of distress.

"Nick! What are you _doing_!? Where are you _going_?!"

"I am going to go back to my files, which I should have done _two_ hours ago," he told her firmly, finally managing to wriggle free from Pearl, whose eyelids fluttered but mercifully remained closed. "However, you insisted and begged me to stick around and watch the sequel with you, and invertebrate I am, I gave in. But _enough is enough_ , Maya. I need to get back to work _now_!"

Ignoring his tone, the psychic eyed him beseechingly. "But…it's movie night…"

Phoenix shook his head. "And any other night I don't have case files to the ceiling, I am happy to indulge you and watch movies till dawn! As it is now, I will probably have to bluff my way through this case unless I want to send Ms. Byrde to the gallows, as I am so far behind!"

Her lip quivered and Phoenix ran a frustrated hand through his spikes. No. He was not going to be swayed by her tears. _Not this time._

"Maya, I have to ask…what is it with you and movie night and the damn _Steel Samurai_?" He demanded, unable to hide the exasperation in his voice as she sniffled. "I mean, I _know_ you're like a big kid with a lot of things, and most of the time, I find it endearing, but …I cannot fathom how _your_ devotion to a _children's show_ is supposed to surpass _my_ devotion to my job! I want to comprehend …and I'm giving you this _one opportunity_ , here and now, to plead your case!"

"You honestly feel that I'm just some _emotionally stunted, overgrown kid_ , and _that's_ why I like this show?" she whispered, looking at him with a pained expression. "Is that _really_ what you think of me, Nick?"

Suddenly Phoenix felt like the world's biggest shitheel. No that wasn't how he felt about her at all. He merely wanted to try to understand her, this woman/child, zany girl. This crazy lady's obsessive samurai passion. Had it been so wrong of him to ask her? Should he have just shut the hell up and indulged her? After all, he owed her so much.

After only a year of knowing her, Phoenix was certain that had it not been for Maya, his life would have fallen into complete chaos. Every time misfortune had struck her, and he'd needed to defend her in a trial, it kept giving him the momentum and strength to carry on her sister's vision, neither of which he'd even known he'd _had_. If a teenage girl could overcome the grief of her sister's death why couldn't _he_ , her protégé, continue Mia's legacy?

Moreover, she was like a ray of ray sunshine in his otherwise dreary existence. She kept that smile on her face in the best and worst of times, all the while keeping herself together and giving him her ever-unwavering steadfastness. She had smiled in the hardest of times, trusting his instincts, giving him her unfaltering loyalty, and had taught him what he should have _already_ known _._

_She's my shining star. She finds the light in the darkness I'm forever seeking but can't always find, and reminds me to never lose hope because, without that, all is lost…_

Realization dawned on him then and there. Phoenix now knew the reason Maya watched these shows and it _definitely_ wasn't because she was immature – all the strife she'd suffered in her young life attested to that.

"In my life," she said hollowly, staring at the ground and unable to meet his eyes. "I've seen good guys both win and lose to the bad guy. I've seen bad guys win and lose to the good guy. I have seen firsthand proof that evil exists in _this_ world and not just Neo-Old Tokyo…I guess…to me, this isn't _just_ about a TV show…" her voice trailed off and she looked beyond miserable. "It's going to sound so childish…"

"Maya." Her name was spoken in a soft breath, but there was an authoritative undertone. He gently hooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I'm asking you as your friend now, not as a lawyer requesting evidence. Don't keep secrets from me, please."

"He-he's's proof that a silver lining exists and that there are forces of good in this world to combat and ultimately triumph over all the evil and corruption in this world." She looked up at him, her eyes welling with tears. "Nick…he reminds me of…"

Finger still under her chin, he moved his thumb to stroke the soft skin near her lips.

"Of?" He prompted softly.

"Please don't laugh at me," she begged, peering up at him with limpid dark eyes.

"Never," he promised, brushing a stray lock hair out of her eyes. He knew what she was going to say before she was even going to say it.

"He reminds me of _you_ , Nick," she whispered helplessly. "These movie nights with you…I treasure them so much. They represent the one thing in this life I can depend on, and count on as a consistent tradition. Since Sis died…you and Pearly…you're all I've got left. So while it may seem childish and immature to you, I – I love these nights, because when we're not working, it's the only quality time that I get to spend with you. With my best friend. _My_ _hero_."

At last, she drew a deep breath, feeling nearly naked, as she had essentially bared her soul to him, even though in doing so, she'd risked coming across as a hapless, needy girl instead of the strong, independent woman she kept wishing he would now see her as. Peeking up at him through her lashes, she braced herself for him to tell her she was distastefully codependent, or worse, _pity_ her.

Phoenix ogled her in dumbfounded silence as he absorbed her words.

Hearing that Maya held him in such high esteem…that she _needed_ him, was the most unexpected, _non-childish, non-dumb_ thing he'd ever heard from her.

Or perhaps anyone. _Ever_.

The girl's poignant words touched him to his very core, making his heart swell with warmth and pride…and _something else_ his stubborn heart and mind wouldn't allow him to put his finger on just yet.

But it did bring a smile to his lips.

Gently scooping Pearl into his arms, he nodded toward the DVD player. "Put the next movie in. I'm going to put this little one to bed. You may be bunking on the couch tonight, Miss Fey."

"You really mean it, Nick?" Maya's cheeks were still pink from the embarrassment of her confession, but her eyes lit up with joy at the words. "But what about those files?"

"It can wait till morning," he dismissed. "What's a few more hours?"

Returning to the living room, Phoenix plunked himself down on the couch next to his assistant with a resigned smile, focusing his gaze on the brightening screen. It was almost as though their previous exchange had never taken place. The plucky gal was once again his burger-loving, _Steel Samurai_ -squealing, happy-go-lucky Maya. And somehow he had allowed himself to be conned into watching another samurai movie. He had let her words sway him, and now he was going to be forced to sit through another two-hour long escapade.

And he called himself _a lawyer._

If anything, _Maya_ appeared to be the one who'd missed her calling!

As the spirit medium shifted into him, head resting lightly against his shoulder, he surprised both the woman and himself by wrapping an arm around her, securing her against him as he took a surreptitious glance at her profile, her gaze riveted on the screen.

As he looked at those beautiful eyes, and that cute little smile of hers, Phoenix felt his grin from seconds earlier return.

He was an admitted sucker for these Fey girls alright…yet he couldn't find it in him to complain. Not one little bit.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _District Court, Defendant Lobby No 1_  
September 8, 2017, 2:16 PM

In the neither the first nor the last of injuries Phoenix would sustain in his legal career, an innocent nap on the courtroom lobby sofa had resulted in his suddenly getting an impromptu _fire extinguisher_ to the head! The blow had rendered him unconscious. The subsequent pain itself hadn't nearly been his undoing, as much as the fact that he had suffered a spell of temporary amnesia – all the while trying to defend Maggey Byrde from her first murder trial.

Throughout the whole trial, he'd managed to blunder and bluff his way through, while having no recollection of anything – of ever taking a murder trial, or what his _own name_ was, or even having ever been a lawyer.

It wasn't looking too good – another witness for the prosecution was about to be called. There was a short recess.

And then, Maya the Magnificent had appeared, fuming as she had phoned him several times and gotten no reply. She then told Maggey not to worry about her case and presented him with a list, containing some names and phone numbers that belonged to a group of con artists that the police were currently investigating, which Phoenix had asked her to look up. It was this with this evidence that the defense attorney had been able to prove Richard Wellington was the true murder culprit of Maggey's then beau, and not Lady Luckless herself.

All the while, he had no idea who this tiny spitfire of a girl was. She wore the strangest clothing on her petite, coltish frame, along with an indignant expression, despite which, he absently noted, she was quite cute. And for some reason, something about her _reminded him of someone_ …

Finally, he couldn't bluff anymore. He was willing to risk this animated girl's ire and just profess to her post-trial that while his memory had almost fully returned at that point, he was still guilty of not yet remembering who this Maya Fey person was, even though she obviously knew him – enough to be exasperated with him and to take that withering tone and expression she'd had when she'd greeted him. Apparently, their work relationship was most informal, to say the least…was that typical of their dynamic, although _he_ was supposedly _her_ boss?

"You're OK, and that's what counts," the girl chirped once the grateful policewoman was gone. "You really had me worried! Come on, let's go back to the office!"

"This might sound bad," Phoenix mumbled apologetically. "But _who_ are you again?!"

A look of shock and annoyance crossed the sylph's elfish features as she glared at him incredulously.

" _What!?_ I thought you said you got your memory back!"

She puffed out her cheeks in her familiar expression of irritation, but he caught a look of barely suppressed... _hurt_ in those mocha orbs as well, one which she wasn't able to conceal. The man cringed, knowing _he'd_ been the one to put it there.

_Think, Phoenix! Think!_

Suddenly, images flashed through his mind. The kindly, bumbling detective. The easily swayed, good-hearted, chrome-dome judge. The talking hairpiece prosecutor whose name eluded him at the moment, with the screechy voice that had sounded like nails on a blackboard, and during the entire trial had only worsened the agonized throbbing in Phoenix's skull. He'd forgotten how many times he'd winced in pain…

_At that moment, everything really did come back to me..._

He blinked and stared into that now familiar, _dear_ face before him.

" _Maya_ ," he whispered.

Tears filled her dark eyes, turning them into translucent pools of liquid chocolate.

"You…you finally remembered," she cried.

_This is Maya Fey, my assistant. That's right... I have so many unforgettable memories about her…For example..._

Maya was… good heavens, where did he even begin? She was the sun when he woke up, shining even more brilliantly than the real thing. She was energetic to a degree that he didn't even know existed, with her ever-present, charming beam, and cheery disposition. When she laughed, it was as if a child lived inside her, waving through her eyeballs. Every day with her was an adventure, whether it was cleaning around the office or taking a trip to the drug store. Her burger-eating habits did seem to empty his wallet quite a bit, but he never denied her such privileges. It was his humble way of conveying his gratitude for making his life interesting. God knows he would stay holed up in the office if it wasn't for her…

Maya Fey. Faithful assistant. Chief's baby sister. Moreover, his best friend. How on _earth_ could he have forgotten her, even momentarily? Well, it would take more than a mere _metal cylinder to the skull_ to ever do away his copious recollections with _this_ little firecracker!

Before he could continue on his newfound trip down memory lane, Maya interrupted his thoughts, her now dry eyes sparkling with merriment.

"Earth to Nick! What's wrong? You keep staring at me! Don't tell me you've missed me?" She teased, grinning impishly.

"Uh, well, yeah I suppose I have," he muttered sheepishly. When she smiled in that way of hers, he couldn't help but notice she surpassed being merely cute…she was as pretty as a picture! "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Oh?" She tilted her head at him and smiled benignly. "Well, I'm back now. So it's time for us to create new memories together!"

"Alright." Phoenix returned the smile. "Sounds good."

"Come on Nick! Let's go to our usual burger joint!"

Had it only been a couple of months since she'd back in his life? Because now it seemed like she'd never been gone – his wallet certainly hadn't had much time to recover in her absence!

"OK, OK!" Phoenix chuckled, allowing her to take him by the hand and drag him outside the courthouse door – for such a small girl she had surprising strength, as well as one helluva grip! "We can get your burgers, Burger Queen! But actually, I was hoping we could stop at Eldoon's. I've got a sudden yen for his salty special."

"That's great!" Maya patted her flat tummy. "I could totally do noodles, too! What are six stomachs for if I can't indulge _both_ our cravings?"

_This girl is going to eat me out of house and home!_

"Fine, but this is the last time this week." Truthfully, he going to struggle to afford this one excursion, anyway. But it was worth it if it made her smile. He never wanted to be the cause of that hurt look in her eyes, ever again.

Maya was pretty stoked about going for burgers with her colleague. She liked to pretend it was like a real date – it was an innocuous role-play she kept within her mind, so she figured it was harmless enough. Going for burgers always made her excited, but lately, since she'd been back with him in the city, she couldn't help but note that Phoenix had been looking _better_ than usual – _insanely good._ What was it? A new gel so his stiff spikes had more of a sexier, mussed up thing going on? Had he bought some man moisturizer or had his skin always looked so soft and smooth?

_It's pretty cool to go places with him; having a hot best-friend who takes you out for burgers all the time is pretty damn nice._

Later, the Burger Queen was happily slurping down her noodles as Phoenix watched her, endeared at how when she slurped the ends of her noodles, the noodles hit her nose.

 _It's kind of cute… Wait! **What**?!_ He put a hand over his face as Maya regarded him quizzically.

"Something wrong, Nick?"

 _Where did it come from and why did I think that?_ Phoenix blushed. _Why am I being such a dork around Maya?_

"Nope, what could be wrong?" Even as he said the words aloud, he shook his head and sighed soundlessly.

_I've got to blame that blow to the head for my sudden mulling of how she is kind of cute and she is always cheerful no matter what…She is my **mentor's sister**! This is ridiculous…! Oh no… I'm arguing with myself._

He made a face and turned back to his noodles, eating them in silence.

As usual, the human garburator finished her meal way before he did and tugged at his arm, urging him to finish quickly.

"Come on, Old Man, you owe me burgers now!" She teased. "After all, I did save your heinie in court today by bringing you that evidence, right?"

She figured Nick didn't mind her ribbing him the way she did – it was how their friendship worked. _He_ was the more rigid one, whereas _she_ was more laid back, so they balanced each other out. She could rely on him to tell her when she was going over-the-top and she'd tell him if he was acting too boring and old. Of course, she didn't seriously think _he was ever_ boring, or old for that matter. But he _could_ be way too uptight about money sometimes! After all, he'd just had a client, and surely another case would come up soon enough, right? Ergo, money was no big deal…you only lived once, and you couldn't take it with you in the end!

They walked side by side on the pavement. Luckily, the usual burger place was right around the corner, but somehow, Phoenix kept nearly barging into her and then apologizing and walking too far away from her. Maya was bewildered.

_He's acting weird again. He's been doing that a lot too lately. Truthfully, it's just been little things, he's been acting oddly about us being too close. He got all embarrassed the other day when I hugged him. I think it might be an age thing. He's probably worried he looks like a pervert who has a girlfriend who's much younger than him. I hope it's not this though, I like hugging Nick. It'd totally be bummer balls if he decided all contact was inappropriate suddenly._

That day, Maya ate so many burgers that Phoenix's wallet was literally emptied.

"Thanks, Nick!" The glutton patted her stomach and smiled cheerfully, noting he didn't seem as happy as she did.

"Aww! Come on!" She cajoled, putting an around his waist in a consoling hug. He stiffened at the contact and drew away; quick as lightning.

 _I wish I knew what was up with him!_ The baffled psychic eyed him with mounting hurt.

Phoenix caught the perplexed look and cursed himself for such a churlish reflex reaction.

Maya had become more open with him as the months had gone by, and in no time at all, they were back to their normal rapport as best friends. Lately, Phoenix began to notice how close they really were. When she'd gone back home, he realized how much he'd missed the subtle touches, rare hugs, and general closeness their separation had robbed them of. Therefore, he didn't know what his problem was at that moment. He loved it when she touched him! Perhaps a bit _too_ much…

"This isn't the first time I've cleaned out your wallet!" She kidded, hoping to ease the sudden tension with her typical humor.

Phoenix still didn't look amused, and Maya studied his sullen expression. They'd gone for burgers a million times, and he'd never acted like this before. What was _with_ him?! She _had_ to get him out of this funk!

"Do you want me to tell Pearly you're treating me bad?" She smirked, nudging him with her elbow.

That seemed to do the trick.

"Ack! I'm fine Maya." Phoenix said quickly, not wanting Pearl to come all the way here just to slap him.

She grinned.

"I can't mourn the death of my wallet?" He asked with a small smile.

"Your wallet isn't dead. See you still have some credit cards." Maya flashed open his billfold, tauntingly holding it up for him to see, but keeping it out of reach.

"Hey!" He yelped, wide-eyed. "How did you get my wallet?"

"The hand is quicker than the eye," she snickered. "Your reflexes are slowing with age, you old fart!"

Maya then began to run.

"Maya get back here with my wallet!" He yelled and gave chase.

Then the mischievous girl had the upper hand, and they raced down the street, through People Park, right until she suddenly tripped on something protruding from the ground and fell face-first on the grass.

"Maya!" He shouted, catching up to her, barely winded but slightly sweaty from exertion. "My goodness, are you alright?"

"The only thing hurt here is my ego," she grimaced, wriggling her ankle, which was twisted oddly beneath her from the way she'd fallen. "Serves me right for running in these damn sandals!"

"I'd say serves you right for being a little pick-pocket, but first I want to ensure you didn't break anything," Phoenix frowned, his brows knitted together with concern as he gently touched her ankle. It didn't appear to be broken, but it did look badly bruised. "I think maybe you just twisted it. Let's get you home and put some ice on that thing. Do you think you can stand?"

Maya tried to rise, using her boss as a crutch, but when she gingerly tried to apply any weight on the injured ankle, she couldn't help but cry out in pain.

"Oh crap, no, I can't! She wailed, falling back to the ground defeatedly. "What are we going to do?"

The lawyer sighed and squatted down, reaching behind him to grab her wrist and pulled one arm so it fell across the front of his chest, then the other.

"We have no choice, it looks like I'll have to carry you home," he said simply. "Hop on."

Maya blushed frantically as Phoenix effortlessly saddled her up onto him and began carrying her, piggyback style, while he began the journey back to their residence. She could feel the hardness of his muscles, usually concealed by his suit, as her breasts crushed against his back, along with the warmth of his skin as her arms brushed his neck when she wrapped them around his broad shoulders.

Had the circumstances been different, she'd have been enjoying herself immensely, but as it stood…the fact that she was dependent on him first to _save her life twice_ , and _now_ to keep her _mobile_ was _embarrassing as hell!_

"The perfect end to the perfect day," he grumbled after about ten minutes, grunting slightly as he shifted her on his back into a more comfortable position. "You're heavier than you look you know! Must be those ten pounds of dead cow you consumed weighing you down!"

He was hoping that complaining about the scenario would distract his thoughts. He was trying hard not to notice the silky feel of her legs against his hands as they pressed into his sides and the satiny feel of her hair tickling his cheek.

Maya tried not to be wounded by the onslaught and attempted to ignore the pounding in her heart at being so close to him, despite his grumpiness.

"I said I was sorry a million times, didn't I Nick? Besides, this is kinda fun, I'm liking being carried like royalty by my noble steed!" She giggled suddenly. "So stop being such a killjoy and _giddyap,_ good stallion!"

"I am not your workhorse! Forget _steed_ , I feel more like a _pack mule_ ," Phoenix groused. "This is just like all the times I've taken you shopping and you've _loaded_ me down with your millions of bags while _unloading_ the contents of my wallet in the process! Therefore, I will cease being a killjoy when you literally get off my back, Maya!"

"Oh please, Nick, stop denying the truth!" Maya giggled, as though sensing he wasn't seriously mad. "You know that I know that you know that I know that you _love_ carrying me! Just like I know you love the _Steel Samurai_!"

He rolled his eyes at her _Steel Samurai_ comment. It may or may not have been true, but he would never admit it to her!

Maya decided this was a perfect chance to mess with him. Proceeding to pull herself closer to him, she rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to get a closer whiff of her vanilla-scent, and put her lips directly next to his ear, before whispering in her most flirtatious voice: "Isn't that right… _Phoenix?"_

The suggestive tone, along with the unaccustomed use of his proper name, made him tense up immediately beneath her.

Sensing she'd gotten the upper hand, Maya snickered and wrapped her arms tighter in a quick hug.

"You're _too_ easy to tease, you know that, Nick?"

He huffed and turned his head away from her in mock anger, but in reality to hide the red stain rising in his cheeks.

They finally arrived home, where Phoenix abruptly deposited his assistant onto her bed, pausing for a moment and giving her an odd look before curtly telling her that he was going to take a walk and would be back shortly.

"Enjoy, Nick! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She singsonged playfully.

"Like eat burgers until my wallet is empty?" He asked sarcastically.

"No, I would do that… and I _did_ do that!" Maya laughed merrily for a second, then got quiet and silently stared at him for a moment, as though waiting for something, but then she just smiled, instead. "See you later, Nick. And thanks for being my hero again."

"Don't get _too_ used to it, Miss Fey," he shot back with a grin. "That was the _last_ time I save your damsel in distress self from the trouble you keep getting yourself in!"

Neither of them had any way of knowing that six months later, Phoenix Wright would come to regret those words.


	81. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This next arc covers the final case of JFA in detail so spoiler warning.   
> I did my best not to make this next mini-arc simply a mere rehashing of the game case, but opted to go into greater, in-depth detail of all the main protagonists involved because JFA was where the true character development began of not only Miles Edgeworth, but the whole Wrightworth Bromance that I know a lot of you love as much as I do! Also, I’d like to show the contrast and character development of Maya the Burger Queen as a teen, versus the one I’ve turned her into, along with the kind, naïve, dorky younger Nick of early games compared to my version of him and then the AJ portrayal of him since.  
> Ergo, I bring you the novelization of the game at the point in my trilogy, (and canon wise but that’s just my opinion!) Phaya’s dynamic did the ultimate turnabout...and where my Fredgeworth lovers know, their story also began! So, without further ado... Justice for All case 4...Farewell My Turnabout...JP style! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pressure: pushing down on me,  
> Pressing down on you, no man ask for.  
> Under pressure that burns a building down,  
> Splits a family in two,  
> Puts people on streets.
> 
> That's OK.
> 
> That's the terror of knowing  
> What this world is about.  
> Watching some good friends screaming,  
> "Let me out!"
> 
> Tomorrow gets me higher.  
> Pressure on people, people on streets.
> 
> OK.
> 
> Chippin' around, kick my brains 'round the floor.  
> These are the days: it never rains but it pours.
> 
> People on streets.  
> People on streets.
> 
> It's the terror of knowing  
> What this world is about.  
> Watching some good friends screaming,  
> "Let me out!"
> 
> Tomorrow gets me higher, higher, high!  
> Pressure on people, people on streets.
> 
> Turned away from it all like a blind man.  
> Sat on a fence, but it don't work.  
> Keep coming up with love, but it's so slashed and torn.
> 
> Why, why, why!?
> 
> Love, love, love, love, love.
> 
> Insanity laughs under pressure.  
> We're breaking.
> 
> Can't we give ourselves one more chance?  
> Why can't we give love that one more chance?  
> Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?
> 
> 'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word,  
> And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night,  
> And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.  
> This is our last dance.  
> This is our last dance.  
> This is ourselves.
> 
> Under pressure.  
> Under pressure.  
> Pressure.

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Gatewater Hotel, Viola Hall_  
March 20, 2018, 7:42 PM

The three of them had been invited to the Grand Prix by Will Powers, where there was some _Hero of Heroes_ contest thing that the Nickel Samurai had won. Maya was pretty pumped about it, but the gaudiness of the hotel stole most of Phoenix's concentration. The solid marble winding staircases were insane.

If the spirit medium hadn’t already called him Old Man more times in the past two years than most people had had hot dinners, the spiky-haired man _still_ would have felt older than his 26 years as he watched his two wards, as he often thought of the Feys, racing about, like little hyperactive house apes, around the lobby of the prestigious hotel. 

Well, his assistant’s cousin, who had been living with him and Maya full-time since the previous Christmas, he could overlook, seeing as how she _was_ only a kid. However, watching the psychic zip to and fro around the press area, in a tiny lavender blur of acolyte robes, squealing excitedly as she did so, was making him positively dizzy!

Moreover, it was making him feel like an over-aged _babysitter!_

"Aren't you nearly 20?" Phoenix asked grumpily, knowing he probably looked every bit the stuffy, bored caregiver he was feeling like at the moment, being forced to be responsible and dignified while the children played. “ _Must_ you act your shoe size _every_ time I’m dragged to one of these ridiculous kiddy program events of yours?!”

His assistant ignored him. The winning of the _Hero of Heroes Grand Prix_ by the Nickel Samurai had her positively giddy with excitement, despite Phoenix’s apathy. Powers was filled with pride that The Nickel Samurai was "doing the series justice" and Pearl filled with confusion, asking if the person everyone was cheering for had won, and Maya told her that he had.

Pearl revealed that she watched _Kids' Masterpiece Theatre_ rather than _The Nickel Samurai_ , and an aghast Maya tried to persuade her to change those plans post-haste insisting the Steel Samurai’s successor was all the rage with the kids.

“Do you like The Nickel Samurai too, Mr. Nick?” The little spirit medium asked him.

“Nah, Nick's an old fart,” the plucky diviner giggled, nudging her employer in the ribs and smirking when he scowled at her. “So he's not allowed to watch it anymore.”

 _And there she goes again_.

The blue attorney sighed to himself, trying to ignore the unwelcome ardor in his chest. For every time he was certain his underling actually _may_ have felt even the slightest stirrings for him beyond mere friendship, and he came _thisclose_ to confessing his feelings, she went and acted the way she was right now, and his gumption went right out the window. It’d been two years now since he’d met Maya Fey, and even though she was 19 now and would be out of her teens in a month, the immaturity had stubbornly lingered. Alas, his romantic interest still had the mentality of an overgrown kid; one who persisted in loving children’s shows like _The Steel Samurai_ and _The Nickel Samurai!_

Nevertheless, the fact remained that she had been around him for too long. He realized he could never un-see her as a young woman now – even if he _hadn’t_ accidentally spotted her dashing from the bathroom that one the previous summer in nothing but her towel! Despite his best efforts to forget his unwitting peep show, the scorching image was permanently imprinted in his brain. He could no longer ignore the fact that nature had blossomed Maya into a grown young woman, amid all the cases and annoyance and burgers, at least physically!

Phoenix had begun to have suspicions about his changing feelings the year previously, after defending the diviner on her second murder trial and he’d hated himself ever since. Against his better judgment, he’s somehow managed to develop a _tendre_ for his former boss Mia’s baby sister! The unwelcome scenario was not only jarring to his senses but it made him feel like a perverse lecher or sorts, to boot. He was too damn old for such a ridiculous crush, not to mention Maya herself!

He tried to cheer himself up somewhat.

_Well, technically, since the woman-child of my affections in question is of universal legal age, I’m hardly a pedophile, but I am still seven years older than her! And it doesn’t help that she calls me an old fart most of the time!_

“That's right.” The defense attorney plastered on a grin through gritted teeth at his employee’s familiar, albeit irksome, quip. “But I do like _Kids' Masterpiece Theatre.”_

“Hey, I didn't know you were so young at heart, Nick!” Maya smirked.

“Mr. Nick! You're a grown-up!” The little girl scolded. “You're not allowed to watch it anymore! You're supposed to act your age and have interests that match.” She gestured to her cousin and then back at the lawyer again, a frown of disapproval marring her doll-like features. “It's very important!”

To his surprise, a rosy calescence slowly began creeping over the teen’s face and neck as she attempted to shoo away their pint-size shipper’s command.“Aw, give it a rest, Pearly!”

 _Holy Shiitake Mushrooms, it’s a good thing_ _Maya nipped that one in the bud!_ Phoenix had noticed his own cheeks had gotten warmer as well, which was customary whenever Pearl began her Special Someones spiel. _I was starting to sweat like a four-balled monkey!_

Apparently, he’d looked a bit _too_ relieved at the reprieve for the tenacious tot’s liking.

"Mr. Nick, aren't you happy?" Demanded Pearl, intruding on his thoughts. She was wearing that familiar admonishing look on her face again.

 _Crap on a spatula! Please, stop!_ He braced himself for impact. _Why must I always be on the receiving end of a glare…from one so young…?_

The pretzel-haired spirit medium reached up and gave him a slap that stung like an army of attacking wasps. Her hidden strength, which belied her tiny stature, was quite brutal.

" _You_ should be happy because _Mystic Maya_ is happy!"

 _"Oww!”_ Phoenix squawked, clutching his abused cheek. “I am ecstatically jubilant! I swear I am!"

The intercom suddenly crackled into life, saving the defense attorney from any further infantile battery.

"Attention. Attention everybody. The Nickel Samurai's Post-Ceremony stage show set for tonight has been canceled due to unforeseen circumstances. We have a special request from the police: everyone must stay where they are. Deepest apologies for the inconvenience and we thank you for your cooperation."

Maya’s jaw dropped to her chest.

_“Whaaat!? Whyyyyy!?”_

Her shocked indignation resulted in her reaching over and pinching her boss on his forearm. _Hard._

“Oww!” He glared at his assailant and rubbed the tender spot where her talons had dug in. “You didn't have to pinch me! Pinch _yourself_ if you don't believe it!"

_Son of a motherless goat! What is it with Fey girls and assaulting me?!_

The voice on the speaker went on to advise everyone to stay put … by order of the police.

 _The police?_ The King of the Turnabout’s legal senses went into high alert then. _Oh man, this can’t be good…_

The necromancer was nearly hyperventilating, she was so distraught.

" _WHAAAT?!_ " She shrieked, grabbing his arms and shaking him. "Is this – this can't be happening! The Nickel Samurai! The post-ceremony –"

"Hey, don't punish _me_ for this!" Phoenix exclaimed, wrestling himself out of her grip and nearly falling into Powers, who was sincerely apologetic about having wasted their time.

_Slappin' Salamanders, Will, are you serious? This trip wasn’t an exercise in futility at all! My assistant, the walking bottomless pit, gorged on enough food at the opulent buffet to feed a small third-world nation, so that alone had made the trek worth the while – at least for **me!** It means she’ll be tided over enough so I probably need to only buy her one or two burgers afterward, instead of the usual half dozen!_

When he had joked about her gluttony that night, Maya had insisted she was a “growing girl”, which had filled him with no small amount of alarm. After all, didn’t girls stop growing vertically… when they were 18?!

_A growing girl? Exactly how big do you plan on getting...?!_

He began to mosy out of the lobby, shouldering past groups of confused people who had clustered into the middle of the huge room. Phoenix faced a dilemma: he couldn't just stand around here being useless, could he? He _had_ to fulfill his role as a nosy lawyer, even when off-duty.

What if there had been a _murder_ most foul?

They poked their heads around the hotel, running into the ever Edgeworth-obsessive, _über_ crotchety, unstoppable windbag that was Wendy Oldbag, as well as checking out the hallways of the two actor’s dressing rooms, Matt Engarde and Juan Corrida, strewn with stuffed bears and flowers.

The lawyer couldn’t help but lament that it’d have been nice to have gotten just a single lousy bouquet at some point from at least _one_ of his grateful clients. Was it honestly so difficult to send him some florals with a simple card? Something along with the likes of: “Thanks for saving my life – literally!”

_Wouldn't it be nice indeed..._

As the trio came back to Viola Hall, they were stopped in their tracks when a tall, thin man stepped right into their path. All arduous thoughts of Maya were erased from Phoenix's brain as he stared at this hotel employee, who looked so incredibly,stereotypically, like a bellboy, it was all he could do not to take a picture. But it wasn't just that: not even the man's classy monocle could take away from the line of stitches, neatly dividing his face in half from forehead to chin.

" _Woah_." Maya’s fallen fell open. "Mister – Mister Bellboy, sir? Can I try your monocle on?!"

Phoenix nearly facepalmed with embarrassment. 

**_Why_ ** _do I like her again, exactly?!_

"Would you be Ms. Maya Fey?" The bellboy asked, thankfully ignoring the question.

"Um, yes."

The raven-haired girl looked startled. Phoenix was, too.

_How the name of Donald Trump’s toupée does this guy know her name?_

"There is a phone call waiting for you at the front desk," said the bellboy. “Please come with me.”

Maya frowned, tapping her chin in contemplation.

"I wonder who it is? Someone from Kurain Village?” She glanced back at Phoenix and Pearl. "I'll be right back. Go on ahead, okay?"

* * *

_  
If I had known what was to happen…I never would have let her out of my sight..._

* * *

**_Maya Fey  
_ ** _Date: ??? Time:??? Location: ???_

“Nnngh...” Maya moaned, rubbing her skull, which felt tender to the touch. “Oww, my head...”

The cranium agony was relentless – she was its prisoner, quite helpless in her cage of pain, which was throbbing so violently around her skull that she wondered why it didn't just crack open.

She’d just woken up with a mouth feeling as dry as cotton balls, an excruciating, agonized ache in her head that rivaled anything she’d ever felt before, ( _including_ the time Morgan had walloped her with the spirit severing stick the previous year), and a general feeling of bewilderment. She had no idea where she was, as she was in some sort of darkened room, and didn’t recognize her surroundings. Was she still at the Gatewater? What had happened to her? 

“Nick….Pearly!” She called weakly, as loud as she could with her parched throat. A feeling of dread crept over her. Was this some sort of joke? Because if it was, it wasn’t funny anymore… 

Suddenly there was a click of the door unlocking, and then she was face to face with the stitched-face bellboy from the hotel, who regarded her with unreadable eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was as cool as a cucumber. 

“I see you have awoken.” 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Maya’s eyes widened in fear. “Wh-Wh-Wh-Who are you!?” In this dimly lit room, even with the monocle and black suit, the man no longer looked distinguished; with the red glare lighting, he now actually looked downright _demonic_. 

“Me?” He answered calmly, completely unaffected by her scream. “...I am known as "De Killer". 

"D-De Killer"!? You mean like an _assassin!?"_

A million thoughts raced through her mind in the next split second. 

_…My little Pearly! Who’s going to look after her?! After **Nick**?! I promised Sis!_

* * *

_Knuckle cracking kringle's on a bullet train with a sock full of ketchup covered cheese logs! This sucks harder than a vegan burger! I’m going to die a freakin’ virgin! I mean, I haven’t even kissed a guy yet! Wait – isn’t the sole upside of being this lame is that it normally increases your survival odds in all the horror movies?!_

_…Wah! I... I'm too young to go! Take your stupid light and shove it up your tunnel!_

De Killer coolly informed her not to fret, that she wasn’t his intended target, but the diviner was beyond being reasoned with at the moment. She continued to cry out for Nick to help her, all the while internally praying to whatever forces that were listening, to spare her life. 

“Yes, that's right,” he replied, still unruffled when her shrieks at last subsided. “Only one person can save you now, and that is Mr. Phoenix Wright.” 

“Wh-What?” Stunned, the psychic managed to muffle another scream and speak in a somewhat normal tone. “Nick... Nick's going to save me...?" 

A glimmer of hope flickered through her. Nick… he was her hero. Yes, he would save her, just as he always had in the past… 

De Killer succinctly instructed her to calm down and be a good girl, and that it was all part of a business transaction, and that she’d be wise to play her assigned cooperative role while he contacted her boss. 

The spirit medium shrank back in horror. How in the world was a kidnapping anything like giving away money in exchange for something else? She saw no reason to trust this insane murderer whatsoever and was certain her life was going to come to a halt soon enough, regardless of his words. The formality of this man was almost staggering considering the situation, but Maya guessed that when you murdered people for a living, kidnapping was like a commercial transaction. 

That petrifying reality of it all though, she realized, was that ultimately, the ends justified the means in the name of monetary gain for this horrible, evil man. She _was_ nothing more than a pawn to be used for business matters. She was nothing more than a cash bag; he didn’t see her as a person. He didn’t care that she had a little girl whom she had to now raise and was dependent on her, or that she was was the office manager to a dear man, who’d come to lean on her as much as she’d come to lean on him. She was the most trivial matter of total insignificance in this dark and deadly game. 

Her heart hammered against her ribs as tears of terror filled her eyes. 

“ _Nick_...” She whispered brokenly, curling into a call, and hugging her knees protectively against her chest. “What's going to happen to me? Nick...Pearls...Sis...” 

Her last heartrending thought resounded through her mind over and over again like a broken record as her tears rolled silently down her cheeks. 

_I never got a chance to tell Nick how much he means to me._

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Gatewater Hotel_  
March 20, 2018 

Phoenix and Pearl busied themselves for the next little bit with investigations, finding some details of the homicide via the always irksome, meddlesome, downright annoying _jer-na-list, aka_ “that woman with the big puffy hair that looks like cotton candy” as the little spirit medium called her, Lotta Hart.

The Southerner’s information was then further relayed and confirmed by the ever overly chatty Detective Gumshoe.

The Jammin’ Ninja had been murdered and his rival, The Nickle Samurai was the suspect.

It was all as ugly as he could have imagined.

The lawyer sighed in resignation and turned to the suddenly pensive-looking Pearl.

"Maya's definitely going to make me take this case, isn't she?"

"If The Nickel Samurai's involved?! Of course!" Pearl bit her thumb. "But, Mr. Nick, are phone calls supposed to take _this_ long?"

"Hah!" Phoenix glanced at his watch. "You're right! What's taking her so long? Maybe we should look for her back in the lobby. We've got all the information we need anyway."

"D – Do you think she got lost, Mr. Nick?" Pearl asked worriedly, hurrying ahead down the hallway.

"Wouldn't put it past her," Phoenix muttered to himself.

_I seriously wish Maya **would** get lost – from my damn mind!_

But as he regarded the little girl’s concerned expression, he tried, and failed, to squelch his own sudden feeling of unease. After all, his friend _had_ just gone to take a phone call…

Anxiously, he scurried to the hotel foyer, Pearl having to jog slightly on her little legs to keep up with his long, urgent strides.

However, once they got to the lobby – full of murmuring as people wandered about, unsure of what was happening – Maya wasn't there. Powers waved them over from near the stage, a radio transceiver in one of his large hands.

Phoenix relayed the information he’d learned to his friend, with the current children’s exercise program star remarking that if anything, as Matt Engarde kept his trumping his rival in popularity, one would have thought that Juan Corrida would have murdered _him_ , not vice versa!

As he was absorbing this newest fact, which now further confused him as the circumstances made even lesser sense, he felt Pearl tugging at his sleeve.

"Mr. Nick, what's that thing he's holding?" She asked. Phoenix's sights dropped to the transceiver in Powers' hand. It kinda, sorta ...but no, not really looked like a mobile phone of sorts to his non-techy eyes. 

"Oh!" Exclaimed Powers, overhearing this. "Sorry, I forgot about it. This whole murder thing completely distracted me. This is meant for you."

"For me?!" Phoenix took the device, which was a fair weight in his hand. "Who was it from?"

"The bellboy. You know, the one with stitches all the way down the centre of his face…" Powers shivered. "It's scary!"

_And this is coming from a man who always looks like a hungry lion!_

"The bellboy…?" The lawyer didn't have much time to think it over, as the transceiver suddenly began to beep. Unsure of what to do, he raised it to his mouth.

"…Hello?"

"Is this the attorney, Mr. Phoenix Wright, speaking?"

It seemed he was now connected.

_Bravo, Phoenix! An exemplary example of your top-notch deduction skills – honed to perfection from years of artful investigations!_

"Yes. And who are you?!"

"You don't need to know who I am. You have much more important things to worry about, don't you?"

Suddenly, there was a scream on the other end, which sent ice shooting down the back of Phoenix's neck.

"H – HEEELP! NICK!"

 _"M – Maya?"_ Phoenix's brain seemed to have stopped working. Surely this was all a bad dream. Surely this wasn't –

" – A kidnapping, Mr. Attorney. So if you want to see the girl again, you had better listen closely."

Phoenix almost dropped the transceiver.

"Maya! Are you alright?! Are you hurt?! Where are you?"

He suddenly felt very faint. Beside him, Pearl had started crying.

"M – Mystic Maya…?" The child whispered haplessly, tears rolling down her cherubic cheeks. "W – what's happening, Mr. Nick?!" Her lower lip began to tremble, and soon she was bawling her eyes out. "Mystic Mayaaaaaaa!"

The world seemed to be fading before Phoenix's eyes. His breathing was shallow, and he didn't think he would be able to stand for much longer.

"What…have you done with her?!" He managed to say.

"…Good. Now that I have your attention, Mr. Attorney…it is a very simple proposal. In exchange, I will return to you…your precious 'item'."

He swayed on his feet, clutching at the transceiver as though his life depended on it.

"…Mr. Attorney, are you there?"

"H – How much?!" Demanded Phoenix, managing to snap out of it. He was going to fall unconscious in a moment, and _then_ what would happen? "How much do you want?! Just say it, hurry up!"

"That's much better, Mr. Attorney, however, it is not money I need. You are an attorney, no? You must become Matt Engarde's lawyer. He did not kill anyone," the voice continued. "I can attest to that: he has been framed. All I simply ask is that you earn him a complete acquittal…in two days. One court trial."

"W- What?! Where's Maya?! What have you done to –?”

"She is fine, Mr. Attorney…at the moment. Failure to comply, however, and…"

The unspoken threat hung silently in the frigid air.

"Who – who are you?!" Phoenix asked desperately. The silence on the other end went on for so long he was afraid the connection would be cut.

"I suppose I can tell you that much. I am De Killer."

"What –"

"Two days, Mr. Attorney."

 _Click_. The signal went dead.

The defense attorney’s insides went numb and a vacant, glazed expression came over his eyes. He was no longer capable of either thinking or feeling. At that moment, he turned into nothing more than a mere shell of himself.

Until he knew Maya was safe and sound, Phoenix Wright would remain naught but a dead man walking.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
March 21, 2018

Pearl was beyond inconsolable about her beloved cousin and only managed to not fall completely to pieces under the gentle, kind guidance of Gumshoe, who had escorted her and Phoenix back to their place, where the burly detective had remained at the child's side, not leaving until she’d at last fallen into an uneasy sleep in her and Maya’s bed.

However, as the drained defense attorney looked at the shadows under her eyes that morning, it was apparent that like himself, Pearl had barely slept a wink either. As he hurriedly fixed them some breakfast – a complete exercise in futility as neither of them had any appetite to speak of – Phoenix had to keep reminding himself to take deep breaths and keep himself calm and collected, if only for the sake of the small, helpless, little girl, who looked as morose and lost as he felt. 

He didn’t even know what to say to her. Everything he said came out wrong and just made things worse for the terrified child, who professed to him that without Maya, she truly had no family left in the world. 

“Pearls why are you so interested in how Maya and I get along?” Phoenix asked, eager to change topics now, as he'd barely been able to swallow the lump in his throat at the tragic news of her otherwise orphaned status. "I mean we don't have anything special...?" 

“What do you mean?” Pearl looked stunned. “But I thought you and mystic Maya were... I've been mistaken all this time?! No way!” She looked downcast then and hung her head, the picturesque vision of heartbroken dejection. 

_Aaaah! She really wasn't kidding! Pearls actually believes that Maya and I are...maybe I should have just left it alone!_ Phoenixberated himself for his thoughtless stupidity and mentally called himself every name in the book for upsetting the little girl he had come to adore. _What the hell is wrong with me!? Why did I even say that? I know Maya and I aren’t anything official on paper… but…_

“Mr. Nick! Stop it!” Pearls suddenly snapped, completely out of the blue, unexpectedly breaking out of her funk. “Don't hide your true feelings from me!”

With that, she rolled up her sleeve and aimed. 

_Ow! She slapped me! **Again!**_

The smarting sensation would have brought any other man in this current state of precarious, emotional affairs to tears, but Phoenix managed to resist somehow. Mostly because deep down, he knew Pearl was 100% right. Also, he didn’t know who he was kidding anymore, denying how he felt about Maya. Or why he even bothered. He was fooling no one. Especially not himself. 

_After all,_ _De Killer was able to determine exactly which person to kidnap to ensure my complete co-operation. Obviously, he sensed some sort of strong bond between us – and perceived it as her being more than just my 'legal assistant', and it’s become obvious even to the outside world…_

The number one reason, however, that Phoenix hadn’t allowed himself to cry, even though he yearned to _more than anything,_ was because Pearl had done enough of that for both of them. She alternated between completely distraught misery, and total self-blame for the whole situation, as she'd not accompanied Maya on her phone call, despite his vain efforts to dissuade such notions. 

Also, he was afraid if he started to cry, he’d never stop. 

The only way to keep from wallowing was keeping busy, so they’d ensured their day was as jam-packed with as much progressive, productive investigation as possible. 

It’d been the mother of all draining days. 

They’d gone to see the self-enamored, flaky, and “refreshing like a spring breeze" defendant, Matt Engarde, in prison. He’d not set off any psyche locks when Phoenix had flat out asked him if he’d killed Juan Corrida.

The actor had blithely replied: “Alright just so we're clear, dude I didn't kill anyone and that includes Juan Corrida OK?” 

So Phoenix had felt better about taking his case now, ensuring himself that he could fight to get the pretty boy a not-guilty verdict with a clear conscience. 

He and Pearl had gone back to investigate further at the Gatewater Hotel after that. They had yet another series of mixed unpleasant and pleasant encounters with the annoying Oldbag (and her prized ray gun), the loud-mouthed Lotta Hart, the evasive Adrian Andrews, the gossip-gabbing Will Powers, the ever-helpful Gumshoe, and the enraged, whip-happy, revenge-obsessed (for breaking her perfect prosecution record), Franziska Von Karma. 

And then there had been another moment where Phoenix had had to draw upon all his inner strength not to break down in front of Pearl again as they went through Viola Hall. 

The pocket-sized psychic had been more mum than usual up until that point, walking by his side with a haunted look on her angelic face, until her solemn eyes riveted to the familiar front table in the chandeliered room they’d all dined in the night before. 

“We ate at this table last night, didn't we?” She asked quietly, with an expression more melancholic than any little girl should ever be allowed to have. 

“Yes.” Phoenix nodded, sighing at the memory of that carefree evening, which now seemed like eons ago. 

“I was really happy then,” Pearl said wistfully, looking down at the ground to avoid letting him see the tears filling her eyes. 

_I wish I could make you smile again... Even for a second._

As the thought entered his mind, at that moment, Phoenix Wright felt a wave of such powerful, protective, _paternal_ love that it startled him. He reacted without thinking and allowed his hollowed heart to embrace the first emotion he’d permitted himself to feel since this nightmare had begun, along with the tiny spirit medium who had triggered it. 

Pulling Pearl into his arms in a tight, comforting hug, Phoenix held her small, frail body against him, murmuring words of reassurance to her, as at last, a lone tear escaped from his eye and rolled down his cheek. 

He’d promised this child, his sole remaining tie to both Mia and Maya Fey, that he was going to save her cousin. It was one he vowed that he was going to keep – no matter what it took.

_Sometimes, it’s not on the battlefield where truth and courage only show. You can win in any place with the help of your courage and determination._

* * *

Later that evening…

_**Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey**_  
 _Police Station, Criminal Affairs Department_  
March 21, 2018

Phoenix and Pearl met with Gumshoe at the police station, and for once, the kindhearted detective was quite grim. 

It turned out the knife in Corrida’s chest had Engarde’s fingerprints all over it. 

Phoenix gulped. This wasn’t looking good at all for getting his client that not-guilty verdict! If anything, Engarde was looking guiltier by the minute! 

Gumshoe was just telling Phoenix about Corrida’s former manager, Celeste, when suddenly, they were rudely interrupted by _Lady Von Whippingburg_ herself! Furious at catching Gumshoe in the act of “leaking” information, Franziska curtly fired the poor man on the spot, ignoring his pleas. 

“Quiet!” The German woman snapped, cracking her whip until the newly jobless detective had fled in terror. She glowered Phoenix and pointed an accusing black-gloved finger at him. “If it weren't for traitors like _you_ …” 

"I would've won." A smooth – and _very familiar! –_ voice intoned just then. “Is _that_ what you want to say?” 

Franziska’s eyes narrowed. “Wh-Who!?” 

_That voice…_ Phoenix felt his mouth go dry. _No, it **can’t** be! Pearl isn’t able to channel male ghosts just yet, **is** she?_

It was no ghost. Suddenly, there before them, larger than life, in full living _magenta_ color,stood the one, the only, _Miles Edgeworth_ himself. 

**_Back from the dead._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Under Pressure – Queen & David Bowie


	82. Right At The Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't hate you, because hate is a feeling and I feel absolutely nothing for you.”

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Police Station, Criminal Affairs Department_  
March 21, 2018

_"E-Edgeworth!"_ Phoenix croaked out, completely shaken out of the norm. “What the..?! _How?!”_

The prosecutor arched a sardonic brow at his old friend's completely ashen mien.

"It's been a long time...Wright." He was completely in full, unruffled, composed _Edgeworth_ state, as though popping up out of the blue from the grave was an everyday event, and he couldn't fathom the spiky-haired man’s gobsmacked expression in the least.

Pearl's fingers flew to her lips as she gasped in surprise. Thus far, the little girl had only known the gallant man now standing before them entirely by name and reputation.

"Th-This person ... _This_ is Mr. Edgeworth?"

"In the flesh." Edgeworth smiled indulgently at the tiny spirit medium and gave his customary grandeur bow in greeting, before turning to Franziska, who, unlike the defense attorney, looked more _stormy_ than _shocked_ at his unexpected arrival.

In other words, if she was as thrown by the sudden sighting of him as Phoenix was, her expression belied no such evidence.

 _Maybe stony-faced stoicism is a prosecutor prerequisite?_

The King of the Turnabout hastily shut his gaping mouth as he observed the exchange between the prosecutors and the two sets of smoky orbs; one serene, one stormy.

"What am I going to do with you...?" The handsome barrister shook his head in dismay at the _incensed Frau_ , with whom he appeared to be quite well acquainted. "Still blaming others when things go wrong? You haven't changed a bit, Franziska."

"Y... You..." Franziska's cheeks were a heightened shade of pink. She was positively spluttering with rage as she turned her accusing pointer finger at the cravat-wearer. "How _dare_ you show your face to me without a shred of shame upon it!? You've soiled the Von Karma name and dragged it through the mud!Run away with your tail between your legs like the ill-bred dog you are!"

 _Ouch_ _!_ Phoenix cringed slightly at the harsh blitzkrieg. _Harsh much, lady?! The sharpness of that tongue could give her whip a real run for the money!_

Although _he_ had his own choice words for his onetime courtroom rival, _Franziska’s_ venom was comparable to a viper’s! What _was_ the deal with these two?! He couldn't determine if he was witnessing a confrontation was that of kin … or an old married couple from hell!

"Are you talking about the Von Karma family creed?" Edgeworth smirked, appearing completely unruffled by the directed ire. " _To be perfect in every way_. Then let's hear it, Franziska. How _are_ things going? I hear you are having a rough time maintaining perfection in this country."

"Y-You… _uneheliches Kind!"_ She glared daggers at him.

Both prosecutors appeared to have forgotten that Pearl and Phoenix, who simply continued to watch the terse exchange in wide-eyed silence, were even in the room.

"You seem to be getting crushed under the weight of it all," the anterior Manfred Von Karma disciple remarked mildly, pointedly ignoring the German slur questioning his legitimacy. "That's why I came back."

"Keep your assumptions to yourself!" Franziska snapped. "I... I haven't given in yet! I _won't_ lose! This case is _mine_! I'll never hand it over to you! _Never!"_

 _OK, this is way too heated for mere sibling rivalry!_ The awed Phoenix decided. _Now they just sound like a bitterly divorced couple from the fiery depths of Abaddon!_

"Mr. Phoenix Wright!" The furious femme abruptly turned to the defense attorney and scowled darkly. "I will see _you_ tomorrow... In court!"

Her fierce expression was now replaced by her customary smug smile.

"It will be a clinical lesson on the meaning of _total victory!"_

Edgeworth waited until his foster sister had stormed off before turning back to his childhood chum with a smirk.

"Humph. Still the same wild mare she always was."

_Seriously?! Is that all the unabashed son of a bitch has to say for himself?!_

Phoenix at last found his voice.

"I thought you, the prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, had gone and _died!"_ He bellowed, feeling a stinging sensation beneath his lashes and hating himself for it. He ignored Pearl's stunned gasp of "Mr. Nick!" This whole ordeal with Maya and now his so-called ghosting friend unexpectedly apparating again was too much for his frayed nerves! "I... I never wanted to see you again!"

The former Demon Prosecutor sighed. If he’d been at all affected by the words, it was impossible to determine from his typical stoic expression.

"I think that's enough of a warm welcome for someone you haven't seen in a year..."

Phoenix crossed his arms and fixed the other man with one of his best stares.

"Are you going to run tomorrow's trial?"

"You heard her, right?" Edgeworth shook his head ruefully. "That wild mare hasn't given in yet, it seems. So, no, I don't think I'll be making an appearance."

Phoenix merely glared at him, still fuming but too livid to say another word.

"Your hatred for me is quite unhealthy, not to mention one-sided," Edgeworth noted in a surprisingly gentle tone. "But I will say one thing; you can't win on your own at the trial tomorrow."

_What is that supposed to mean? Of all the cotton-picking nerve! Is he doubting my capabilities?!_

"I have something definitive that you lack and that's the definition of teamwork, Wright," Edgeworth informed him. "It's the power to find the truth."

"The truth?"

The charcoal-haired man nodded affirmation.

"In order to understand this case, you have to understand a _certain_ _truth_. If you ever feel the need for my assistance, it is available to you. _I'm_ not in charge of this case, so I can be a bit more generous with information."

The defense attorney was thrown into dumbfounded silence by the unexpectedly generous offer. Especially considering the source. The barrister was notoriously tight-lipped with information of any sort – that was partially what had made him Phoenix's most formidable courtroom rival to this day!

 _Just what is going on inside his head?!_ _I will never understand this man. Ever! I don't careto anymore anyway! It's too late to atone now, you jerk! I've moved on! And I don't need you!_

"A lot of things may have happened," Edgeworth went on. "But Manfred Von Karma was still my mentor. And a _perfect win_ record is proof of a Von Karma."

Unwavering navy orbs peering unwaveringly into the granite ones.

"One year ago, _you_ could not establish a perfect win record," Phoenix countered. "You could not establish guilt in a few cases. Are those losses the same reason you suddenly disappeared from the Prosecutor's Office?"

He was too incensed now to notice the flicker of sadness that now reflected on the other man's features and stepped up his attack.

"Did you leave because you lost your perfect win record?"

This time, the magenta-clad legist visibly winced, but the normally benevolent lawyer was too infuriated and worked up to care.

"To think your motivation for prosecuting trials was so selfish!" The one-time good-natured attorney was   
flat-out yelling now. "It'd have beenbetter for everyone if you never came back from the dead, Edgeworth!"

Edgeworth expelled a deep breath and his downcast glance appeared focused on something on the ground during this verbal onslaught. However, when he finally raised his gaze to meet his dialogue partner’s, his countenance was once again indecipherable, although when he finally spoke, his tone was mild-mannered and not at all combative.

"I see. Then let me ask you something; why do _you_ stand in the courtroom? What is _your_ reason?"

"Well if it was Franziska, she would most definitely say _‘I will defeat you this time!’_ the instant she saw me. But the courtroom is not a personal battlefield for prosecutors and lawyers. I stand in the courtroom to defend my client ... To _save their lives_."

His speech only resulted in him being subjected to that accursed raised eyebrow again.

"To save your client, you say?"

"Those who think only of their own ego-driven goals… those kinds of prosecutors are _reprehensible_ to me!" Phoenix declared, not giving a damn that he sounded sanctimonious. "No matter if they _are_ a prodigy, or someone like _you_ , Edgeworth!"

The other man eyed him coolly.

"It looks like there is still a lot you have yet to learn."

_Dammit, he’s got a set of stones on him! Is he for real?!_

"A lot _I_ have yet to learn?" The blue attorney laughed humorlessly. _"Me?"_

"Humph. That's enough for now." Edgeworth crossed his arms and refused to meet Phoenix’s prying gaze then. "The time when you will see is coming soon enough."

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _District Court, Defendant Lobby No. 3_  
March 22, 2018, 10:00 AM

The next morning Phoenix went to court with Mia, who was being summoned by Pearl.

Although he saw Franziska Von Karma as a mini terrorist and a replica of her Machiavelli father in female form, the rookie lawyer would have been telling the truth if he'd said as much as he disliked the cruel perfectionist, he certainly wouldn't have wished any harm on her!

Ergo, he was horrified when, before the trial could commence, he got another call from the kidnapper. His antagonist cryptically stated he was giving the defense attorney _‘a gift.’_ It became horrifyingly obvious what the latent meaning of the sinister implication was when Franziska didn't show up behind the prosecutor's bench.

 _This is insane!_ He thought wildly. _How has it all come to this?!_

The equally alarmed judge wasn't even able to answer his frantic query how the Nosferatu’s offspring was faring!

At that moment, a certain chess-loving legist showed up, reporting that Franziska been was shot in the shoulder on her way to court and that he, Miles Edgeworth would step up to take her place.

 _I thought he'd show up!_

This time, Phoenix shared none of the shock which the judge expressed at the unanticipated sight of the presumed dead prosecutor. Now that his anger had fizzled somewhat, he actually couldn't help but feel relieved by his rival’s presence for some unfathomable reason, although he couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason why.

_I'm still pissed at him…but dammit, given the choice I'd still take him over Franziska **any** day! Edgeworth, at least, I know has a soul, even if it doesn’t come with any sort of conscience, seeing as how he played possum for a year! However, that's neither here nor there right now…_

Gumshoe took the stand first. The poor man was about to lose his job again because of what happened with Franziska, but he advised the court that the real cause of death was strangulation, from a scarf discovered around his neck. The knife was stabbed in Juan Corrida's chest after he was already dead.

Edgeworth was totally on his game. For every contradiction that Phoenix raised, the other man had a perfect explanation. Even Mia was impressed, and at this rate, there wasn't much keeping the prosecutor from getting a guilty verdict. He told Phoenix that he'd spent the last year seriously contemplating about what it meant to be a prosecutor, and the answer he'd found was just what he was showing today.

Oldbag was called to the stand, momentarily throwing the austere prosecutor off of his game with her syrupy, lovesick greetings.

"It's been a year since I've seen my Edgey-Wedgey," Oldbag cooed, batting her eyelashes at the aghast barrister before then turning to glare at the poor judge. "So, don't interrupt us, _gramps_!"

The stupefied judge hastily agreed, much to Edgeworth’s unmasked dread.

"No, no, no, please, by all means, interrupt her!" The slate-haired DA begged plaintively, unable to disguise his horror _. "Please!"_

Seeing the normally stolid man get this shaken up was so laughably palpable it made Phoenix amusedly wonder just where the calm, composed opposition who'd been making him work up a sweat all morning had vanished off to!

"I saw her name on the testimony!" Edgeworth groaned. "But who knew under that helmet was the Wicked Witch of the Witness Stand?!"

_I'm going to withhold judgement on the poor guy in this case. After all, it's not like Oldbag can't bring out the worst in people…_

The day before, even sweet, polite Pearl had questioned the senior citizen’s origin.

“Um... I was wondering if that old lady is really a person from Earth? I mean, maybe she's really from waaaaaay out in outer space..."

  
"Yeah, actually, I was thinking the exact same thing," Phoenix had chuckled. "She's too strange to be from Earth!"

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _District Court, Courtroom No. 3_  
March 22, 2:25 PM

Phoenix wasn't expecting any surprises when Adrian Andrews took the witness stand. The day before, even after he'd lambasted the other man, Edgeworth had still given him two pieces of important information.

The first was about Celeste Impax, the victim's former manager. The two had recently cut off their engagement when the poor woman had killed herself. Corrida had found the body, and it was suspected that he might have concealed his fiancée’s suicide note and will. The second piece of information was about Adrian. Engarde's manager had a co-dependent personality – her cool, calm exterior was simply an act that covered up the fact that she couldn't function without support from someone else. She’d been very close to her mentor, and after Celeste had died, had even attempted suicide herself.

Adrian's testimony looked favorable for the defense. It appeared Phoenix had the _true_ killer!

However, after her testimony, when she began to be accused of planting evidence, Adrian abruptly exerted her right not to testify! Phoenix realized that she was hiding something, probably due to Franziska's coaching the day before. And with the key witness refusing to confess or testify, the Judge had no choice but to suspend the trial for another day!

"Ms. Adrian Andrews has refused to testify," the judge decreed. "And the defense's theory that she is the actual murderer has not been fully substantiated with solid definitive proof."

"But that's not true!" Phoenix cried.

"In this situation, there is only one thing this court can do," the magistrate went on, ignoring him. "And that is to declare a recess."

"R-Recess...!?"

The judge nodded.

"I request that both the prosecution and the defense look further into this matter. And at tomorrow's trial..."

The room began to spin for Phoenix at that moment at the words.

_T-Tomorrow...!? We don't have a "tomorrow"! If we don't get a not guilty verdict today, then..._

_"Hold It!"_ He shouted desperately. "Please wait, Your Honor! Th ... That's not necessary! The trial ... _Please_ continue the trial!"

"What are you sweating for...?" Edgeworth eyed him suspiciously. "Your client is getting one more day to live, isn't he?"

"That... That's not it! This isn't about that! Edgeworth!" Phoenix beseechingly stared across the courtroom into the face of the man he'd once called a friend, his heart in his eyes. "I _know_ you know who the real killer is! _Please_... Let the trial continue! If I don't get the verdict...then Maya..."

His voice cracked then.

Edgeworth's startled eyes widened upon hearing the name of the young woman who'd put her neck on the line for him the year before, and never asked for anything in return. Moreover, the expression of undisguised pleading on the spiky-haired man’s panicked mien was impossible to miss. The prosecutor instinctively knew something was wrong – and that he had to act. _Now_.

"But it's impossible to continue as long as the witness refuses to testify." The judge was adamant. "Now then, this court is..."

" _Objection!"_ The prosecutor shouted, never taking his gaze off his courtroom rival, even though he was speaking to the judge. "It is not impossible for this trial to continue!"

Adrian gasped, the color draining from her face.

"Mr. Edgeworth!" The judge was astounded. "Wh-What are you..."

The undaunted DA demanded Adrian testify about the juice she'd left in Corrida's room, reasoning it couldn't possibly incriminate her. The pretty blonde admitted that the tomato juice bottle pictured in the crime scene photo is the one she poured the juice from. When she first entered the room, she'd thought the actor was just asleep, and she'd poured the juice for him, not for herself. Phoenix objected that if Corrida had a knife through his chest, there was no way she could have thought he was still alive and calmly poured the juice.

"I don't know what it is about Edgeworth today, but I can't get a good read off of him," Mia noted thoughtfully. "Is he friend or foe? I just don't know..."

 _Neither do I!_ The defense lawyer thought. _Edgeworth, what the heck is going on in that brain of yours?!_

Nonetheless, he fervently needed to believe that a man who was astute and merciful enough to have noted his unspoken plea earlier to prolong the trial, without even knowing the circumstances involved, couldn't be his enemy. He just couldn't!

Adrian clammed up once more, and again the Judge tried to adjourn for the day, and _again_ Edgeworth objected, declaring that he could explain why she wouldn't testify.

"Ms. Andrews. Since you absolutely refuse to testify..." Edgeworth shrugged with complete insouciance. "It falls on _my_ shoulders to disclose this to the court."

"...S...Stop..." Adrian stammered, sweat beginning to form at her temples.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth!?" The judge was confused.

"This witness... How should I put this...? She has an _illness_ ," Edgeworth remarked casually, as though discussing the weather.

"What!?" Adrian gasped, looking at him with dread.

"And because of this illness, she has tried to commit suicide in the past."

"S-Stop... Please stop...!"

"No matter how much you want to hide it, it's no use. I have the evidence right here." Edgeworth tapped the folder on his table and met her pleading stare unflinchingly.

"Ah!" Adrian stammered. "Th-That's...!"

 _That's the second part of the suicide report; the attempted suicide report!_ Phoenix realized dazedly.

The warning note in Edgeworth's voice was impossible to miss as he threatened to reveal to the court the secret of Adrian's co-dependent nature, despite knowing that having other people know about it scared her more than anything else in the world.

"I will now reveal to the court," the prosecutor declared. "The true nature of the pitiful woman known as Adrian Andrews!"

"Please! Please STOP!" She begged. "I beg you! If people find out...If people find out... I... I'll..."

Edgeworth looked at her stonily, his face an emotionless mask. "If you're going to say you would "choose death", that is of no concern to me."

Phoenix gaped at the callous being who had once infamously been known as the Demon Prosecutor.

 _This is too much! All that’s missing is the red tail and horns! Was all that professed talk about rediscovery during his year away America just a total crock?_ He thought despairingly. _Edgeworth..._ _How can you be so cold...!?_

"However, before you die..." Edgeworth slammed his hand on the table. "I will pull the truth from your breathing lips, no matter what I have to do!"

The tactic was harsh, ruthless, and cruel. Phoenix never, in all his kindheartedness, could have ever resorted to such measures.

Nevertheless, it had worked.

Adrian crumbled like dry biscuit under the strain and finally confessed that while she hadn't killed Corrida, she had tried to frame Engarde for the crime because she knew somehow, he was responsible, and had ruined her beloved mentor's life and was responsible for her suicide.

And that was that. Despite Phoenix's protests, the judge ended court for the day, and had Adrian arrested for questioning, citing there was not enough proof she was the killer.

The court was over for the day. And he still hadn't gotten the required not-guilty required to set Maya free.

Phoenix's head dropped into his hands in complete devastation.

He'd failed her.

"Witness...Would you mind if I asked you something?"

The black-haired head shot up at the harsh sound of the prosecutor's normally level tone, which was directed at Adrian, still on the stand, as he asked about the card she was holding.

_Edgeworth?_

Adrian absently twirled the card in her fingers, admitting Phoenix had also asked her about that same, strange, shell-monogrammed card, which she hadn't paid much mind to and unconsciously slipped into her pocket.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you have _stupidly_ , yet inadvertently _done_!?" Edgeworth slammed his hand down on the desk and glared at her, his voice rising. "This... I can't believe you hid this from me all this time!"

"I... I didn't mean to..." Adrian looked shaken.

"Wh-What is this all about...?" Mia gaped at the incensed DA, who practically had steam coming out of his ears, his broad chest heaving.

Phoenix stared with consternation at the other man, his own alarm mounting.

_I've never seen such an emotional Edgeworth in my entire life...That card...What in the world is it? And what does it mean...!_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Hotti Clinic_  
March 22, 2017, 6:00 PM

After leaving court, Phoenix met up with Gumshoe. Now that Gumshoe had been fired (again) he wanted to help with the investigation. He was great at consoling the weeping Pearl, who was fretful the ended trial without a not guilty verdict would mean the end of her cousin's life, but the men were able to reassure her that since Engarde hadn't been declared guilty, there was no reason for the assassin to break his word and harm Maya.

"It'll be OK! You'll see her again, little missy," the big man soothed the distraught child, who was now sniffling.

"Y-Yeah!" Pearl smiled slightly.

"It's really important that you don't give up!" Gumshoe reached down with his ham-sized fist and tried to softly bump it against the spirit mediums small knuckles.

"O-OK!" Pearl smiled even more brightly now and returned the fist bump, her tears gone now. "I... I won't give up. Ever!"

Phoenix was both touched and relieved at how good the other man was with cheering Pearl up. 

_I guess a big voice does give you a sense of presence..._

"Hey! I know!" Gumshoe was excitedly saying now. "I'll show you something cool! How's this? It's a real, genuine pistol..."

 _His big heart may make him great to be around kids, although at times I just don't know where his head is!_ Phoenix facepalmed. _Why does he keep insisting on wanting to have an 8-year-old play with a gun?!_

The former detective searched his pockets for the sought item, and his face fell then. "I... I don't have my pistol or my police badge anymore…" He mumbled sadly.

"Cheer up!" Pearl chirped. "You can't give in!"

"Y-Yeah!" Gumshoe beamed then.

 _What in the name of Lady Gaga’s diamond bustier are those two doing...?!_ Phoenix wondered. _Wait, do I even want to know..?_

Gumshoe explained that while Franziska's bullet wound to the shoulder was minor, the one to her _pride_ was even worse.

"Well, until now, she's always upheld the _Von Karma Creed_ ," he explained to the baffled lawyer. "But since she came here, well, you've given her pride quite a beating, pal. I mean, she may act all grown-up, but she's only 19-years-old. Quite frankly, I worry about her, pal."

The burly flatfoot went on to shake his head over Edgeworth's courtroom antics that day.

"First time I've ever seen him be that kind of strong-arm tactics, pal, what with forcing people to say what he wants them to during testimony…I want to know what in the world happened to him all this time he's been gone..."

Speak of the devil, Phoenix and Pearl bumped into Edgeworth himself when they went to the Hotti Clinic to visit Franziska. However, they'd first had to contend with the same skin-crawling, gap-toothed, itchy, scratchy, pink-haired pervert who was pretending to be Dr. Hotti but was merely a wannabe _Dr. Bad Touch,_ whom the defense attorney all too vividly remembered from his _last_ harrowing visit there!

Luckily, Franziska came along then and whipped faux Dr. Strangelove till he passed out and had to be carried away. For once, the weapon was a godsend!

Phoenix shuddered with relief when the creepy man was out of sight. _Everything_ about this place gave him the _heebie jeebs!_

Franziska didn't seem too worse for the wear and appeared to have thawed out somewhat towards both him and Edgeworth, so Phoenix figured he could talk to her a bit and asked the German how she was faring.

"I was shot in the shoulder en route to the courthouse," she shrugged. "No big deal, these things happen all the time. I even had full intentions of running the trial this morning." Rolling her eyes, she grimaced in Edgeworth's direction. "But I was dragged here by _that_ prosecutor."

Edgeworth only _looked_ at her, with an expression that clearly said: _I'm **not** apologizing!_

"He even went so far as to grab me by the wrist the whole way here!" The patient grumbled, looking more annoyed than grateful. “Dragging me along as I was a toddler!”

Edgeworth crossed his arms.

"It was the only logical course of action given the bullet was still lodged in your shoulder!" Now it was his turn to grimace as he added wryly, "But with me doing so...I found myself having to clean up after you and that _irresponsible deal_ you made!"

The silver-haired beauty scowled at the implied reprimand but said nothing.

Phoenix’s gaze swiveled back and forth between the duo, knowing full well of that _deal_ the other man spoke of… yet still not knowing just what _the real deal_ was with these two! Were they … pseudo-siblings? Friends? Frenemies?

 _Or_ …a niggling thought occurred to him even though he had no hardcore evidence of such. _Perhaps more than meets the eye…?_

Unsurprisingly, Franziska didn't seem to care that she’d almost gotten Adrian blamed for the murder, and shortly afterward, abruptly excused herself, leaving her Little Brother alone with Phoenix and Pearl.

The prosecutor, likewise, was unrepentant for presenting the evidence Adrian was so desperate to hide, even though Phoenix insisted that he'd never seen the other man act in such a ruthless manner before … didn’t Edgeworth agree he’d gone too far?

"Ah, but she wouldn't testify about THAT until I said something. Listen, Wright. The courtroom is a garden of judgment. I am putting myself on the line when I stand in there," Edgeworth stated unapologetically. "And that's why I made the witness do the same...It's only natural."

 _Looks like we're going to have to agree to disagree on this one,_ Phoenix figured, and changed topics, asking about his friend’s uncharacteristic anger about the mysterious card.

The prosecutor explained that for years the police had been after a professional assassin, Shelly De Killer, who left cards with a seashell design at the scene of his murders. Adrian must have picked it up without thinking. This meant that De Killer must have killed Corrida, but Edgeworth still believed Engarde was the one that hired him, a fact he was deliberating how to break to Phoenix.

"My turn to ask questions now," Edgeworth folded his arms over his chest and affixed the blue attorney with a level gaze. "I noticed something at the trial today. You were behaving in a very strange manner. Is something the matter?"

Seeing no point in hiding things any longer, despite his conflicting emotions about the other man – was he a wingless angel or a heartless demon?! – Phoenix reluctantly filled Edgeworth in on the details of Maya's kidnapping and the stipulations involved.

Edgeworth listened with a furrowed, pensive brow, showing his genuine concern, and after hearing all the information, immediately offered to prepare a rescue team as soon as possible, and was confident he could resolve this matter by tomorrow.

"R-Really!?" Pearl squealed excitedly, clapping her hands and looking at Edgeworth as though he were the Hero of Heroes. "Did you hear that, Mr. Nick!? M-Mr. Edgeworth is going to..."

But the defense attorney wasn't as easy to win over as the little girl. This wasn't a TV show and this wasn't that easy! The problem was not going to be resolved in half an hour and Phoenix was in no mood to forgive the other man his past sins in 20 minutes plus commercial breaks just yet!

"Forget it!" He said gruffly, shaking his head stubbornly. If anyone was going to be Maya's hero, goddammit it would be _him_! "Stop trying to console me, Edgeworth! I don't need your pity!"

"Mr. Nick?" Pearl regarded him in confusion and bit her thumb.

"There's no way you can find her. We don't have even a single clue to go on!" The blue attorney continued, irritated that Edgeworth thought the solution was so straightforward – if it had been, wouldn’t it have been obvious that Phoenix would have come up with the search party idea himself?! This wasn't a simple situation where the prosecutor could just swoop down in his typical genius fashion and have all the answers. Not this time. This was beyond mere logic!

Edgeworth studied him with a knitted brow.

"There's only one way to save her," Phoenix went on. "I... I have to get an acquittal somehow! It's the _only_ way!"

Seeing how stubborn a man he was dealing with here – and that his trespasses were a long way away from being forgiven – Edgeworth shook his head and sighed in resignation. It was time.

"Wright. Listen, you need to know something." His tone was serious and no-nonsense. "Juan Corrida was killed by Shelly de Killer. And the client who ordered the job...is Matt Engarde. Your own client."

Phoenix's face went as white as a hospital sheet. He shook his head violently, trying to block out the ugly words.

No! It couldn't be true! It _couldn't_! There _had_ to be a mistake! Surely all this time he couldn't _possibly_ have been jumping through hoops trying to save a man from a crime he was _guilty_ of! That would mean… _no!_ His magatama _wouldn't_ mislead him!

"I don't believe you!" He squeezed his lids shut, away from Edgeworth's unrelenting stare. "Please, stop! I can't listen to you. I _can't_ believe that!"

Edgeworth somberly regarded the rattled defense attorney and realized he couldn't push the truth on him any further. Phoenix was _thisclose_ to cracking, and there was a little girl right there who needed him to keep it together. Still, he felt frustrated.

_There are none so blind as those who will not see._

Stifling a sigh, Edgeworth looked at his childhood friend with an acquiescent expression.

"I see. Well, if you want to continue your investigation, you will need this."

"What is it?" Pearl asked.

"The hotel right now is restricted to police personnel only, as we are looking for any clues that might lead us to Shelly De Killer. This letter will allow the police at the hotel to let you continue investigating."

The prosecutor turned to leave, but then looked back at the two one last time.

"In any case, I must attend to the preparations for Maya's rescue team." He held up a hand, silencing the protest Phoenix was about to make. "This isn't about pity Wright. I care about the girl. She went out on a limb _twice_ for me …and I've never forgotten. If you won't let me do this for you, allow me to do this for Miss Fey."

Phoenix hesitated for a moment, but then nodded assent.

"We'll meet again, if anything should happen, Wright." Edgeworth smiled faintly at Pearl and nodded at the defense attorney. "Now if you'll excuse me...I must bid you adieu."

Phoenix and Pearl stared after the prosecutor for a moment, then the little girl turned to look at him anxiously.

"Mr. Nick? Do you... Do you really think ... Mr. Engarde hired an assassin...?"

"No way!" Phoenix insisted, desperately hoping it was true. _I mean, he doesn't have a Psyche-Lock..._

Pearl seemed reassured by the conviction in his tone. "Y-Yeah, I guess not..." She smiled trustingly up at him and slipped her tiny hand into his. "Let's get out of here before that scary-looking man comes back."

As he led Pearl away, Phoenix sent a silent prayer out to the universe, hoping against hope that he wasn't wrong and that somehow, Maya could feel or hear his thoughts.

 _Maya…_ he thought achingly. _Wherever you are…Please... Come back to us. We need you so bad… Please God, if you're listening, all I ask is you bring Maya back home, safe and sound!_


	83. Holding Out For a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Continuation of Justice for All case four...Farewell My Turnabout...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then a hero comes along  
> With the strength to carry on  
> And you cast your fears aside  
> And you know you can survive  
> So when you feel like hope is gone  
> Look inside you and be strong  
> And you'll finally see the truth  
> That a hero lies in you.

**_Maya Fey_ ** **  
**_Date: ??? Time: ??? Location: ???_

Maya was doing her best to not go completely out of her mind with fright.

_Don’t panic. Stay calm. There’s **got** to be a way out of this dank, hellacious prison. There’s just **got** to…_

She could now claim that this kidnapping ordeal was _officially_ more terrifying than the two times when she’d been incarcerated and had been facing the death penalty. Even though the concept of being sent to the gallows for crimes she hadn’t committed had been petrifying, deep in her heart, she’d always _somehow_ known that Phoenix would save her. She’d blindly placed her faith in the fact that her hero was out there championing for her on justice’s behalf, searching for the clues that would prove her innocence. And he’d never let her down. Not even once!

This time was different. Once more, she was innocent, and yet again, something bad had happened to her that she didn’t deserve. But _this_ time, she wasn’t scared, but safe, in a secure detention center surrounded by armed guards.

 _This_ time around, Phoenix had no clue where she was. _She_ didn’t even know where she was!

And _this_ time, Maya wasn’t at the mercy of the legal court system. She was at the mercy of a _madman_ , and in this instance, there was no _scheduled date_ for her _pending execution_. The questionable date and method of the horrific outcome were suspended in mid-air, looming over her head like a _Shichishitō_ sword…

_No! I **can’t** think like that! I mustn’t give up!_

Trying to squelch the trepidation coursing through her veins, Maya desperately dashed up the stairs that lead to the door of her current ‘holding cell.’ Using the card with the strange seashell monogram that she’d found earlier, she slipped it between the crack of the door and the jam, then frantically wriggled it.

To her amazement, the card trick really worked! The door _actually_ opened! She wouldn’t even _need_ Phoenix to save her this time! Maya the Magnificent was going to rescue _herself_!

A feeling of giddy relief flooded over her, along with a faint trace of smugness. It seemed even kidnappers could be a little clumsy, what with leaving behind a telling card like this to find, which had been the tool allowing for her escape opportunity!

The thought of the kidnapper’s actions if he busted her attempted escape no longer seemed as frightening. Surely a man who could be so careless wasn’t too daunting after all! 

_Even though he said he was an "assassin", he’s probably just trying to scare me! I bet he's just making that up, like how Nick does with everything in court! Anyway, I can pat myself on the back later. Time to take a look around!_

Opening the door, Maya could see she was in some sort of recreation room. 

_Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore…_

Looking around the blue room, the spirit medium noted the fully stocked, wall-to-wall bookshelves, a small leather sofa with a tiny toy bear on it, a computer, a satellite dish, and a large-screen TV, the biggest one she’d ever seen. 

_Maya, I have a feeling we're not at the Gatewater anymore either…_ She shook her head ruefully. _Score one for Captain Obvious!_

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad…she might be able to kill some time watching TV on that ginormous flat screen, which dwarfed even the 50-inch model she’d finally conned the _skinflint_ Phoenix into buying recently. She tried to power it on, but it didn’t work. It was _completely_ busted. She let a groan of disappointment.

 _Sufferin' succotash!_ She huffed with chagrin. _I would so die a happy Samurai fan if I ever got to see the Nickel Samurai on a TV like this. Ack! I can't believe I just made a joke about dying, all things considered..._

The computer was a dud too. So much for using it somehow as part of the getaway plan! And of course, the door to _this_ room was locked, and as petite as Maya was, she _definitely_ wasn’t small enough to crawl through the tiny flapping _pet door_ on the bottom of it!

Taking another look around the room, she then spotted a framed photo of a pretty woman on the coffee table, which read, “With Love, Celeste.”

_Hmm…could this be some sort of clue? I need to gather as many as I can to let Sis know my whereabouts so I can get the Sam Hill out of here!_

Maya turned the photo over to see if there was anything else written on the picture anywhere. It was just as dimly lit in this area like the one below, minus the eerie red lighting, and it was hard to see much, as most of the room was in shadows.

She was so busy squinting at the image in her hands that she didn’t notice the dark form creeping along in said shadows until it was too late.

“Oh, this simply will not do.” The voice was smoothly professional and quietly untroubled. “I cannot have you wandering around at will.”

Maya spun around at the unanticipated sound and let out a startled shriek as she found herself face-to-face with the kidnapper.

Once more, De Killer seemed unaffected by her screaming. He looked at her with unwavering eyes and a stony expression as he spoke again in that smooth tone.

“It seems…that your Mr. Wright is truly concerned about you.”

Although Maya heard him speak previously, the icy calm that was her abductor’s voice was still unexpected. It was low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of more power than the slightly built body would suggest – not an aristocratic voice, but one on which education had imposed a discipline which hadn't quite obliterated; a provincial, sort of East Anglian accent from childhood.

She swallowed hard. “H – He is?”

A flicker of hope flared within her. Was she going to be rescued? Did that mean Nick was going give this diabolical man whatever he wanted after all, so he’d set her free? 

The assassin nodded. “For now, I would suggest you _remain coope_ rative. If you _cannot_ , there are _ways_ in which I can _help_ you...”

“Ways...?” Her mouth went dry then. “You mean...?”

 _No_. That _couldn’t_ be what he’d meant! Surely she’d misunderstood him…

“Dead men tell no tales.” He eyed her coolly. “That _is_ how the saying goes, correct?”

"D-D-D-D-Dead?!” She spluttered, looking at him with mounting dread.

“I'm almost certain I told you on our first meeting,” he replied simply. “I am... an _assassin_. Or did you not believe me the first time I said it?”

It was at this moment that the young woman fully realized the nightmarish reality of her situation. This was no joke. She was face to face with a stone-cold, aptly named, _killer_. 

Maya glanced at the floor. No trap door. Her eyes went to the walls but saw no other windows or doors. Her breath caught. Still, surely there was _some_ sort of chance to escape – certainly even _this_ ghoul had limits? Outside was night now, surely. Nick and Pearly would be frantic! She had to placate this man, _somehow_ , so he would not see fit to end her life until they arrived and saved her.

In the meantime, all she could do was stall for time.

However, in her terrified state, Maya’s mind was starting to fail, like an engine that turned over and over, never kicking into action. She couldn't formulate a thought. Every action could lead to more pain and there was no way out of this house.

 _No way out_. She brought her hand to her throat. No blood. Not _yet_ , anyway.

Even though her mind was frantically shrieking for her to fall to her knees; to beg and plead for her life to be spared, as the full force of the horror enveloped her, she found herself unable to speak or formulate a sentence at that moment. And so Maya simply stared at De Killer, making a noise like a chicken choking on a piece of string.

“N-No way.” Her eyes were round with shock, and her heart hammered wildly against her ribs as she shook her head. “You're lying! I mean... An _assassin_...?”

De Killer stepped closer to her until his horrible visage was merely inches away and she could feel his icy breath upon her face. “People are not always who they appear to be, Ms. Fey.”

Darkness washed over Maya then, sending another chill down her spine. But it was no chill of passion, it was one of pure terror. The same kind she’d felt when she’d discovered Mia’s dead body, and been twice incarcerated for murder.

She’d been wrong. This _was_ a joke after all. A _dead serious one_.

Staring into her captor’s eyes, she was shocked to note that she saw nothing inside. _Nothing_. It was like looking inside depth of ever-ending darkness, combined with a large amount of charcoal being thrown at your rosy red cheeks. She blinked, attempting to think this was a small side effect of her paranoia, but nothing changed. His eyes were black. _Pure_ black. There was no other visible color of irises, but instead, she saw a small portal of Tartarus just waiting to envelop her.

As De Killer drew closer, Maya could hear his laugh, a cruel, cold cackle that froze her in her spot and drained all hope, dreams, and feeling from within her, replacing them with a feeling of despair, hopelessness, and most of all, _fear_. Its claws cut through her body and wrapped around her brain. It choked the breath from her lungs and left her body dry heaving, desperately trying to rid her of all this. Black mist swirled at the edges of her mind, drawing her into its open arms and salty tears spilled over onto her cheeks leaving a tight, dry feeling. As his bony paws reached out for her, she wanted to scream. Only she _couldn’t_. She strained her vocal cords but not a sound came out.

The monster's claws wrapped around her body and Maya summoned up the last of her strength, finally managing to emit a blood-curdling scream, hoping, _praying,_ that _someone_ would hear. She screamed and screamed and screamed.

_“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!”_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Gatewater Hotel, Juan Corrida’s Room_  
March 22, 2018, 7:30 PM

After leaving the clinic, Phoenix and Pearl made a short stop at the detention center, where Engarde asked Phoenix to feed his cat, Shoe for him. The lawyer reluctantly agreed, although he was grumbling to himself about the hindrance of the impromptu pit stop, as he was amid important investigations.

_Phoenix Wright, Ace **Pet Sitter** , at your service!_

They didn’t find anything notable at the Engarde mansion, other than a locked door off to the side of the living room. They also met the actor’s stiff-upper-lip, semi-snooty butler, who looked suspiciously like the hotel bellboy. The manservant assured them all was fine, and politely escorted them out after they’d completed the purpose of their visit.

Back in Juan Corrida’s room at the hotel, Phoenix discovered the origins of the late actor’s love of bears, which fans sent him all the time. He received another call from De Killer, who, mercifully, agreed to allow Maya to live another day because he needed the acquittal as much as Phoenix did. Their conversation was interrupted by static, and Gumshoe guessed there must be some strong interference in the room. 

The kindly former detective whipped out his trusty, homemade, electric wave detector from his elementary school days. Together, they scoped out Juan's room and discovered a small transmitter inside one of the many bear dolls, attached to a video camera, which was set to record the night of the murder. Gumshoe offered to take the camera and run a trace on it, but it was likely to be little more than a shot in the dark; it was already late in the evening, and chances were it was too generic a camera to track down.

Still, it was better than nothing. As soon as the big man left, the two came across another fellow investigator.

With his usual impeccable timing, Edgeworth swooped in then and valiantly offered to run a trace on the bear that the camera was planted in. Evidently, it was a special brand name bear made in Germany, and rarely imported, and hopefully much easier to trace.

“T-thanks,” Phoenix stammered, still unaccustomed to the prosecutor’s newfound magnanimous nature.

“See you soon, Wright.” The other man nodded at him and strode to the door.

Phoenix sprang into action then. No! Edgeworth couldn’t just leave _now_! There were still so many questions to ask him!

“Edgeworth, wait!” Phoenix cried desperately. “ _Please_ – don’t go yet!”

Edgeworth halted, then turned around and looked at him impassively, brow arched questioningly.

“I- I don’t understand.” The defense attorney found himself stumbling over his words as he tried to voice his tumultuous thoughts. “That is… I _need_ to know… _why_ are you doing all this...?”

Edgeworth regarded him with his customary unreadable expression for a moment, then looked away.

“I have no interest in explaining myself to someone who cannot comprehend,” he answered stiffly, indecipherable mask firmly in place.

Phoenix looked back at him helplessly, and Edgeworth’s tone softened a tad, although his steely gaze still bore a determined expression as he stared the spiky-haired man down.

“But besides that, Wright, you’re _still_ not asking the right questions, which means you _still aren’t seeking the right_ _answers_ ,” Edgeworth informed him, his voice laden with meaning. “Until court reconvenes tomorrow, the sole thing you should concern yourself with is the answer to _this_ question: _who_ was the person that murdered Juan Corrida?"

“The _real_ killer, you mean?” Even as he asked the question, Phoenix already knew the response.

“Do you _really_ still think it was Adrian Andrews?” Edgeworth studied him searchingly with those all-knowing, ever-prodding eyes.

Phoenix flushed at the intense scrutiny. The other man always seemed to demand answers from him that he either did not know – or was simply unready to face – thus far.

“To be honest... I -I don't know anymore,” he muttered, dropping his eyes to the ground. “I don’t know _what_ to think, or _what_ to believe any longer.”

“You still have a little time left.” Despite his stoical expression, the prosecutor’s tone was encouraging as he gave Phoenix one last, determined look. “Find the truth, Wright. _Everything begins with the truth.”_

He should have been used to the prosecutor’s cryptic, riddle-style manner of speech by now, but he wasn’t. Edgeworth was cognizant that deep down, the lawyer knew the unspeakable truth in all this – but he graciously wasn’t about to push it upon him, instinctively sensing the time still wasn’t right to force the blue attorney to face such matters.

Phoenix supposed for that gallantry, he should have been grateful. But he wasn’t. Because it no longer mattered. 

_An inconvenient truth_ was the underlying answer to this mystery, and they _both_ knew it.

However, this knowledge did nothing to squelch the feeling of underlying dread harboring in his gut that the worst was _still_ yet to come.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Detention Centre_  
March 22, 2018, 9:30 PM

With Edgeworth’s conversation still rankling in his mind, Phoenix and Pearl went to the police station and discovered the prosecution’s newest witness was none other than Will Powers! While his friend was hindered from being able to tell the defense attorney what he’d seen that fateful night, he did manage to shed some much-needed light on the victim’s former manager, Celeste Impax. Shortly afterward, Gumshoe called Phoenix with the disturbing news that the German bear had been purchased… by none other than _Matt Engarde_!

Phoenix’s mind was spinning as he and the little spirit medium made a beeline for the detention center.

 _Magatama or no magatama, this is **not** good_, he thought grimly. 

They met with Adrian first, who alluded to the secret Corrida had had about the defendant. A secret which had been so devastating in nature that if revealed, it would have given Engarde the _ultimate_ motive for murder.

Another piece of the puzzle slid into place. But in order to complete the picture, Phoenix still needed to speak to his client again.

As he and Pearl waited impatiently for Engarde to be summoned, the defense attorney’s mind flashed back to the disturbing conversation he’d had with Edgeworth back at the hotel before the prosecutor had headed out on the great bear chase.

_Find the truth, Wright. Everything begins with the truth._

There was no doubt that Shelly De Killer had murdered Juan Corrida. This was an indisputable fact that nobody was denying. The $64,000 was, _who_ had hired the hit? Whoever it had been hadn’t wanted to dirty their own hands, surely, but nevertheless, even with their unsullied mitts, they were still just as guilty as the actual killer himself!

With this latest damning evidence in his arsenal, Phoenix was running out of reasons to suspect that the person who had hired the assassin was Adrian Andrews. After all, if it had been Engarde’s manager who’d done the deed, then why go through the effort to stab the knife into the corpse herself?

Running a hand through his spikes in frustration, Phoenix turned to Pearl, who looked at him with trusting, unwavering faith in her enormous doe eyes.

“I... I believe in your lawyer powers, Mr. Nick,” she assured him, patting his hand reassuringly like a parent would to a nervous child. “I know you can bring us a miracle.”

Phoenix never wanted to be the one to ever make that hopeful spark die from the little girl’s eyes, but at the same time, it made him nervous. She had no much faith and belief in him, it was scary.

_I'm guessing by "miracle", she means a not guilty verdict...and she wouldn't be wrong either. It will take a **miracle** to pull this one off!_

“Why... Why did the kidnapper have to take Mystic Maya...?” Pearl looked miserable then. “Why couldn’t the kidnapper have taken _me_ instead?”

_I can’t even begin to get into what **I’d** do if anything ever happened to this little one! I can’t even bear the notion… **my** heart stopped at the mere thought!_

“Stop it, Pearls!” He commanded gruffly, hoping the tougher approach would thwart another round of tears, which at this stage, would surely trigger his own, and the _last_ thing he needed was to face his client with watery eyes! “Don't say things like that! If that had happened, then Maya would be hurting, I'm sure of it. Just like how you are hurting now, Pearls.”

“Y-You're right...” Pearl sniffled, then looked up at him expectantly. “One more day...”

“Yeah... If we can bring the trial to its end, she'll be back,” he assured her. “Don't worry.”

“I decided I won't cry anymore, Mr. Nick,” Pearl promised, her little face solemn. “You're so brave and holding strong for Mystic Maya, so I have to do the same.”

_Brave and holding strong? Guess I have a better façade than I thought. Only for you, Pearls. Were it not for you, I’d have broken down ages ago…_

“Thank you for thinking so, Pearls,” Phoenix mumbled. “I’m glad you think I’ve been brave and strong.”

“All heroes are!” Pearl smiled brightly. “And that’s what _you_ are, Mr. Nick! You’ll _always_ be Mystic Maya’s hero!”

* * *

 **_Maya Fey  
_ ** _Date: ??? Time: ??? Location: ???_

_Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the Gods? Where's the street-wise Hercules, to fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need_ …

Maya was past the point of trying to pretend she was some sort of butt-kicking feminist who could get herself out of this and didn’t need a man. She could fully concede – she _needed_ to be rescued.

 _I need a hero; I'm holding out for a hero ‘til the end of the night. He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight._  
  
She was a damsel.

_I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero ‘til the morning light. He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon and he's gotta be larger than life._

She was in distress.

_Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy…somewhere just beyond my reach, there's someone reaching back for me._

And she needed to be saved.

 _Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat…It's gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet…_  
  
She needed _Phoenix_.

Her rather delayed epiphany came rather swiftly and unexpectedly.

Locked in that dark room with neither food nor water, in endless trepidation that any moment could be her last on earth, there were numerous things that should have been running through the spirit medium’s thoughts. 

Yet only _one_ thought did, and it completely bewildered her.

As she squinted at her doodle on the seashell card in her hand, straining to see what she was doing in the dim lighting, like a constant treadmill, her mind always circled back to the only thought it seemed to be capable of: _Phoenix_.

To be fair, she’d also thought a lot about her darling Pearly. About how to escape. About ramen noodles and burgers, and about the next season of _The Pink Princess_. But ultimately, all those thoughts seemed to fade to black when compared to the other one from which her mind knew no escape.

As she carefully outlined the sharp peaks of his hair, the intrusive feeling kept returning, over and over, like a boomerang.

_You should have told him._

Told him _what_ pray tell? That she was so fond of Nick’s porcupine spikes that she’d referred to him as her _cute porcupine_ , to the point where she was now _sketching_ them while in captivity?? He _knew_ that already!

Her exact phrasing had been _my cute porcupine with pretty eyes_ but _semantics_ , really!

Oh, but Nick _did_ have pretty eyes. Maya sighed. Much more than _pretty_ , if she was totally honest. 

Nick’s eyes were deep, dark blue. Not the ordinary sky blue, or the color of the paint flaking off the old shed in the back of the field, or even the little flowers that sprang up by the side of the road. Never till now had Maya ever realized just how much his eyes caught the beauty of deep oceans glittering in the light of the moon. Cut just right, even the darkest of sapphire couldn't hold a light to the electric fire that burned each rim and shimmered, crashed and churned just under his glossy gaze. His eyes were blue like the sky right before the sun disappeared - dark rich indigo, with specks of wild colors here and there. His eyes were blue like that warm wool sweater that you put on when the air got that chill- comfortable, warm, and familiar. His eyes were _that_ kind of mesmerizing, spellbinding blue, which she could never get tired of staring into or fantasizing about.

_It’s too late, Maya. Now he’ll never know._

He would never know _what_ , exactly? Maya silently screamed back to the inner, tormenting voice inside her mind. It was entirely uncertain that she wasn’t descending into madness due to her captivity. What _mystery_ was there that she’d allegedly been keeping her friend in the dark about, and _how_ exactly did it relate to _Nick?!_ _That_ was an even bigger mystery!

But as she appeared to have nothing but _all the time in the world_ in this malodourous hell-hole, she bloody well was going to figure it out!

Maya finished her drawing. It wasn’t too shabby, all circumstances considered, such as the poor lighting, her weakened body and mind from lack of sleep or nourishment, and the throbbing pain in her head from where De Killer had clubbed her, _again_ , to knock her out once more. Not to mention her panicked, terrified, overall state of being.

She could just barely see in the blackness, but she could still make out Phoenix’s image, and it felt as though he were there with her. That brought a smile to her face, and a still-not-extinguished glimmer of hope in her heart, despite the bleak circumstances.

 _Nick. My Hercules, my white knight._ _He’ll save me, just like he always has._ _He’s my hero._ Maya _needed_ to believe this, to maintain that level of optimism despite her nagging, ever-growing, ever-present, _overwhelming_ feeling of foreboding.

Maya tried to distract herself from the idea of never leaving this place or ever seeing her friends and family again by daydreaming. She alternated between fantasizing about _The Nickle Samurai_ and choosing between her yen for _The Steel Samurai_ versus _The Pink Princess_. Ultimately, she balked at making such an impossible choice. Why couldn’t Global Studios just create the best of both worlds and just _merge_ the two already?! It’d be the ultimate dream crossover – not to mention how romantic it’d be if the heroic defender of Neo Olde Tokyo married the heroine that Maya had helped inspire the creation of! And then they could have a metallic… Silver – no, _Bronze_ – Baby!

Still, her treacherous brain kept stubbornly pulling her mind away from such creative television mergers and firmly planting it back to thoughts of Phoenix.

Maya remembered back when they’d first met, and how he had had complete belief in her innocence and defended her, in spite of her foolish initial decision to shirk his offer of legal counsel for that duplicitous _soggy_ , _hemorrhoid_ _hog_ , Grossberg. Still, he’d defended her, despite not even knowing her from a hole in the ground.

She thought of every case they’d gone through, how much fun she’d had investigating with him – except for that one time they’d both been tasered; that had _completely_ sucked bag! – And how impossible all the situations had seemed. Each time they’d come _thisclose_ to losing. And _each and every time_ , the _King of the Turnabout_ had gone on to prove the innocent party not-guilty and ensured justice was served! 

Nick truly was a hero. And not just for _her_ – but to all the _innocent_ people out there who needed someone to defend from the long, often bullying, the arm of the law. Moreover, he was so indulgent and _kind_. He’d not only taken her under his wing but then, to have also basically adopted little Pearly…not caring of the additional financial strain it would cause him to have _two_ additional mouths to feed…the man was _mensch_ if she’d ever seen one!

Spending downtime with him was the best part. While he’d started out just humoring her with their Friday night _Steel Samurai_ movie marathon nights, she was well aware, while he still liked to grumble in protest, that he’d actually now gotten _into_ it, although he’d _never_ admit it! She _knew_ he had! After all, why else would he have allowed her to make the theme song his cell ring tone, and then _never_ changed it?

Even dining was entertainment for them. Whenever Maya would race him to their favorite burger joint for lunch, or for Samurai dogs, she’d always win – except for that one time she’d done that wipe out and he’d had to carry her! – But for an old fart, he was pretty good at keeping up!

Of course, there were the times where they had to actually _work_ …but somehow, as long as they were together, even _that_ was still kind of fun! They would talk and tease and argue. She would say some stupid joke and the Old Man’s grumpy veneer would always crack, and then he would double over with laughter. 

Maya loved to make Nick laugh. She loved the sight of the serious-looking defense attorney leaning back in his chair, clutching his stomach, and fighting back the tears of mirth that would almost always wind up falling in the end. It was so cute when he’d stop and try to compose himself, looking all sheepish about letting his guard down in such a manner, but then he’d just shrug, drop the worried face, and just grin happily, suddenly looking years younger, almost close to her own age – not that he looked old to begin with! She was certain Phoenix knew she didn’t _really_ see him as an Old Man! Surely a man so handsome was well aware of his appeal?

Sometimes, out of the blue, Nick would look into her eyes for just a moment longer than necessary, and Maya would forget all about time, space, and whoever happened to be around, and just felt like nobody else in the universe existed except them. Then she’d feel embarrassed to be caught acting like a starry-eyed, besotted teenager and feel her face grow warm. So then she’d look away and make a goofy, smart-aleck crack, and Nick would say something equally silly and sarcastic right back, and then the spell would be broken – assuming it had _existed in the first place_ , outside of her own fanciful imagination!

_Opportunity knocked. You just never opened the door._

That damn, accursed thought again! Maya couldn’t make heads or tails of what her subconscious was trying to say! That she had missed some sort of _chance_ with Nick? What _kind_ of chance? To tell him how important he was to her? How much he meant to her? How much she valued his friendship? She’d made that _evident_ when she’d confessed the true meaning of Movie Night to him! Maya was sure she’d made all of that pretty clear. _Hadn’t_ she?

The more she mulled it over, the less certain she became. After all, Phoenix was so _adorkably_ , _obliviously, clueless_ _!_ He never even seemed to notice the passing, admiring glances he got from women in the street, or when the waitresses at the restaurants would offer extra-friendly service…maybe he’d been daft to all she’d been hoping to convey as well!

So perchance, his significance to her life _wasn’t_ as crystal clear as she’d always assumed. She’d genuinely thought being unfailingly by his side, and ever eager to offer her assistance and constant loyalty had been enough to make him realize… 

Realize _what?_

Maya and Phoenix were already dear friends as well as office partners, who were close enough to able to often convey their thoughts to one another without having to say anything. They could simply _look_ at the other’s face and know what the other one was thinking or feeling, most of the time! That was a bond that belied more than just mere _friendship_! He meant _so_ much more to her than _just_ that…she just couldn’t find the right words all of a sudden…to convey precisely _what_ though!

In Phoenix, she had found a dorky, constant comrade. His arguments about stepladders were completely pointless, and she was pretty darn sure that his spiky hair had got cell phone reception of at least a few bars. She loved his quirky comments and the fact that she could be herself with him, and vice versa. He was earnest, trustworthy, and kind, and that was among the many things Maya had valued in Phoenix. They truly were best friends.

She’d long since acknowledged she didn’t look at him as a _brother_ of any sort, ergo, the word _family_ and friend just couldn't even come close to how she felt about Nick. Sure, she thought he was _hot_ , but so what! That didn’t mean anything… _much_ … _did_ it?

So, what _was_ it then? What was her mind so desperately trying to tell her about Phoenix? Maya moodily mulled this over some more as she allowed thoughts of the spiky-haired defense attorney to flood her mind yet again.

Since he tried to put on a serious, professional lawyer front, for the most part, she thought she was lucky to be one of the few people to see how the rarer instances of how his face would light up whenever he laughed or smiled, which was almost all the time when he was around her. She thought of his pokerfaced remarks and the way he would roll his eyes at her before giving just a hint of a shit-eating grin.

In the courtroom, whenever he was on an unstoppable roll, jaw set, eyes sparking with determination, Maya could barely contain her pride-filled smirk as he mopped the floor with the prosecution. Her favorite part of the court was whenever Phoenix would win – which he _always_ did! – He would turn to her then, thank her for her help, and engulf her in his strong arms for a hug. Normally the embraces only lasted for a fleeting moment, but it was enough for her to feel his warmth and the strength of his arms, and the butterflies would begin the flutter around in her stomach. She wished those moments would last forever.

 _God_ , she loved that man!

Maya had regretted leaving Phoenix as soon as she had gotten on the train to leave for Kurain when she had first met him. It was just that by that point, she honestly believed that she was no added value to this wonderful man who had already done so much for her! Not only had she felt that she was a shoddy spirit medium, but also useless investigative partner, no matter what Phoenix had told her differently. To add to the heap of problems, she ruefully now acknowledged that she had had – and _still_ did have! – a major-league, crush on him as well! She had felt like a complete fool to have repeatedly let down this man she had such arduous affections for!

_Whoa! Wait a second! Jump back!_

Alright so _maybe_ she still had a little – _fine_ , _Mount Everest_ sized! – crush on her friend/sort of boss/sort of guardian/employee of her dead sister. That wasn't _such_ a big deal, right?

 _What_ had she just allowed herself to think?! _Crush_ yes. Think he was hot as hell, _yes_! Maybe even have surpassed the _teenage crush_ phase and was now in the _wildly infatuated_ stage. But … _love?!_

_Hold it! Objection!_

She was going to make like that thought had never even crossed her mind!

_So, take that! Stupid brain!_

Maya’s cheeks felt as though someone had just set a fire under her skin, despite there being no one to embarrass but herself.

It _couldn’t_ be! She had _not_ just complicated matters to the _umpteenth_ level and just admitted that she had exceeded _all juvenile phases_ of _puppy love_ and was now _truly, madly, unequivocally_ – not to mention _unrequitedly_! – _In love_ with her best friend!

 _Eureka_! This was all because of _Pearly_! Pearly and her childlike dreaming of them being Special Someones. Maya was merely letting the fantasies of a child get to her, that’s what it was. _Loving_ Phoenix… _hell to the no_! What an absurd, ludicrous, _inconceivable_ notion!

This subject was not even up for debate. She didn’t _love_ Nick! Well, she _did_ , as a friend, and harbored a few fanciful romantic fantasies about him but…no, _not love_! It had been naught but a slip of, um… _mind_ , resulting from her getting cabin fever from her forced captivity. Yeah, _that_ was it! Maya was an intelligent young woman of nearly _twenty_ now. She was _not_ going to make things awkward and weird with her _admittedly aesthetic_ best friend, by claiming she was now _in love_ with him! _Love_ …What a _terrifying_ concept!

_Really Maya? Even more terrifying than the situation you’re in now?_

Maya gulped. She had no retort to that whatsoever.

_You are acutely aware, Maya Fey, that you’re sitting here, arguing with yourself, in the dark, with an assassin lurking outside, just waiting for an excuse to kill you. Face it, girl, denial is more than a river in Egypt._

"Shut up!"

As her voice echoed in the quiet of the room, Maya stifled back a sob, hugged her knees close to her, and mumbled in resignation.

It was chilly in the room, and Maya was now, on top of everything else, being subjected to chattering teeth due to a quivering jaw. She clenched the teeth in an effort to keep her jaw still; dropping the jaw so as to breathe in more oxygen, in preparation for what was to come.

The anticipated mental torture of the looming unknown horrors lying in wait for her was agonizing.

Maya buried her face in her arms and sighed. A part of her sort of wish the assassin would just get it over with already. The other part quivered with fright and dreaded at having her life end so soon.

She _had_ to find a way to distract herself from these morbid thoughts. But what? She was done withdrawing for now. What else could she do to kill – _no not kill_ – _pass_ the time?

_I know! I’ll write something! I’m sure I can find some writing tools on that computer desk over there…now, I just need to find something to write on..._

Her eyes fell on the photo atop the coffee table. _Perfect_.

_Experts always say you feel better if you put your feelings on paper, so I will. But I know, deep down inside me, neither the ink in my pen or the stencil in my pencil is strong enough to handle the words I want to write at this moment._

Maya’s eyes closed as she contemplated what message she wanted to convey to the two most important people in the world to her if ever they found the note she was about to compose. 

_Jim Morrison says “people fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over.” And he's right, he really is. Death is that one thing everyone's afraid of, yet they will themselves to go on with life. I do the same and I know I do it. He’s right, too. Because even though I’m a spirit medium, above pain, I **am** afraid of death. Of course, I am! For God’s sake, I’m still only **19-years-old**!_

So many wasted precious opportunities. So much left unsaid.

“I love you, Phoenix Wright,” Maya whispered out loud as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. “I wish I’d told you when I’d had the chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mariah Carey - Hero


	84. Irrefutable Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Today I had a friend. And what is strange indeed. I felt embarrassed, pleased, restless enraptured, embedded in their company. I felt strange sensations, but I guess such is the way it will always be when entering the strange world of life."

**_Phoenix Wright and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Detention Center_  
March 22, 2018, 10:00 PM

_There’s a reason why they say ignorance is bliss. Because yes the truth can set you free…but only if it doesn’t completely devastate you first, like an enormous wave crashing to the shore that tows you away back under the tide._

The defense attorney now knew the inconvenient truth. On some level, he’d always known, but for the sake of what he’d been forced to do – keep a murderer from incarceration to let Maya live – he’d made like an ostrich and willingly buried his head in the sand while he tried to obstinately maintain his unshakable belief in his client’s innocence, despite all the unignorably glaring proof Edgeworth and Gumshoe kept providing to the contrary, to preserve his sense of ethics. Of justice.

The true nature of the vicious monster that was Matt Engarde had at last been unleashed, along with the even uglier reality.

His mind was laid waste by the news. Everything he’d ever trusted, represented, believed in… annihilated within one moment. 

Phoenix had just confronted the actor with the damning evidence of his guilt, and finally, the _real_ Matt Engarde had been revealed, right before his and Pearl’s horrified eyes. That scarred face…those diabolical eyes, those lips pulled back into more of a malevolent snarl than smile…the formerly pretty boy actor’s face had suddenly resembled a scary Halloween mask one could have bought in a costume store. He’d remorselessly professed that indeed, he’d hired De Killer to kill Juan Corrida because his rival was planning on ruining his career with Celeste's last will. It was partly his fault that his fiancée had killed herself, and if that got out, it would ruin his “refreshing like a spring breeze” reputation. 

The reality shouldn’t have devastated Phoenix the way it had, but it did. The overwhelming news passed through him like a hurricane. Everything he'd worked and struggled for lay in ruins. After striving to champion for the underdog all this time, and protect the innocent, the realization that he would have to go against all his morals, ethics, and beliefs to keep a guilty as sin _murderer_ out of prison was downright staggering.

_All because of this deceitful, two-faced, son-of-a-bitch **Judas** in front of him!_

The horrified expression on the blue-suited man’s weather-vane face was impossible not to read, even before he finally found his voice.

“You killed Mr. Corrida!” Phoenix accused, glaring resentfully at the other man behind the prison glass.

The cruel smirk on Engarde’s mug grew even wider as he let out a gleeful cackle.

“I dare you to say that in court tomorrow. Aww, but too bad. You _can't_. You're my lawyer, after all. _Aren't_ you?”

Phoenix’s hands clenched into fists, his eyes blazing as he furiously stared back at the sociopath.

“You _could_ always drop my case and refuse to represent me. How does that sound?” Engarde sneered. “Aww, but you can't, can you? That would be the one thing you absolutely _can't_ do.” 

_“M-Mystic Maya...!”_ Pearl gasped in horror. 

“You wouldn't want to test De Killer. He's a man of his word, or so I hear.” Engarde’s tone was downright mocking now. “You could end up getting a certain _friend_ of yours rubbed out if you lose.”

In spite of the turbulent, raging emotions stirring within him, Phoenix’s dim realization that Pearl was right next to him was the sole thing that kept the litany of threatening obscenities from escaping his lips. 

“Y...You... _scoundrel...!”_ He managed to get out, jumping to his feet from his chair. 

“If I were you, Mr. Wright, esquire, I think I would give it my all tomorrow,” Engarde’s malicious grin was unwavering. “Remember, everyone likes a happy win-win resolution.” 

Up until that moment in his life, the pacifist, benign defense attorney could have honestly said he didn’t hate anyone. He never had, although he supposed that made him an elusive, incomprehensible paragon to most. Even in betrayal, the mechanism to turn it into hatred failed for him. Instead, his mind sought to understand the atrocious behavior from a compassionate point of view. Why did they do it? What was it about them that lead them to such a bad decision? He wasn’t a masochist; he didn’t keep folks around that hurt him over and over, failing to learn even a little from each life lesson and it wasn’t a good idea. But as far as Phoenix was concerned, the greatest predictor of future behavior was past behavior. He just hoped that in time, hatred, in general, would be seen for the pointless waste of time it was, and that when it was seen, it would be understood that it was a marker of love misused.

Such had always been his stance in life up until that moment. Not even Dahlia Hawthorne had created this level of loathing within him. But this Hollywood pretty boy was in a whole new league of despicable. This bastard was playing God with the life of an innocent girl for the sake of his own evil, twisted, selfish purposes. A girl who had never done any harm to another living creature in her whole life, and who was the light of Phoenix’s existence.

Death was too good for this snake. This villain deserved the worst possible kind of suffering known to man.

Odium and enmity welled up inside him, scorching so deep in his heart that it was ingrained in the tissue. He could feel the fury itself burning him up from within.

“I... I'll _get_ you for this!” Phoenix seethed through gritted teeth.

“That's such a cliché phrase,” Engarde jeered. “Juan said something _just_ like that if memory serves. Of course... Well, we all know how well things turned out for _him_ , don't we?” He waved at Phoenix one last time and skinned his teeth into one final leer. “Good night, Mister Lawyer.” 

Rather than respond, Phoenix banged his fist impotently against the heavy glass, uncaring of the sharp pain in his knuckles that resulted from the action. 

_Maya_ , he despaired, squeezing his eyes shut and falling back onto his seat in complete hopelessness. _Maya, what am I supposed to do!?_

He was still breathing raggedly and seeing red after the fiend bade him adieu, and didn’t even notice the sudden appearance of Edgeworth until the prosecutor was practically on top of him. 

“And now ... you've finally found it. The starting line of this case.”

“Edgeworth...” Phoenix looked at the other man with reddened eyes, expecting to see some sort of triumph glinting on his face, knowing he’d been right about Engarde all along. However, the other man’s somber countenance was surprisingly sympathetic as he took the defense attorney by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

“I don't care for the horrid atmosphere here, Wright. Let's return to the precinct.”

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Police Station, Criminal Affairs Dept.  
_ March 22, 2018, 10:15 PM  
  


 _I feel like such a damn fool!_ Phoenix castigated himself the umpteenth time. _How could I have been so trusting and blind and naïve to that deranged psycho’s true nature?! HOW?!_

As though reading his mind, as he often somehow seemed to be able to, Edgeworth was the first to break the deafening reticence. 

“You’re not the only one to be fooled by his wholesome, good-guy pretense, Wright. Engarde is the textbook definition of a psychopath.” The prosecutor’s cadence was supportively compassionate. “They don’t always come with flashing or tell-tale signs. Psychopaths can even run charities as shields for the activities they truly enjoy – causing others pain and emotional distress. They take a perverse pleasure in attaining positions of public trust and respect, they are charming and socially intelligent. They don't play by the same rule book as the rest of society and so they win with ease. No morals mean no restraints. They are the wolves, but we don't have to be the sheep. We can be lions.” 

No response from Phoenix. He appreciated what the other man was trying to do, but he was too busy wallowing in self-berating to reply. 

“In every great thing we do, the psychopaths hide, wolves among the sheep,” Edgeworth went on cajolingly.

“But that's okay, it is because soon enough, they'll just be wolves among lions and we will outnumber them, swamp them. Then they will pretend to be one of us, a good guy mislead. We will let them retreat, but _know_ they are psychopathic.” 

More silence. 

“Well, Wright?” A note of frustration crept into Edgeworth’s tone then. “ _What_ are you going to do? If you plan on changing your strategy…” 

“N...No!” Pearl shouted, then flushed at her outburst, and her shoulders drooped. “We can't do that...” 

“That's right...” Edgeworth groaned slightly. “He's holding Maya hostage...” 

At last, Phoenix spoke, staring up with helpless, bloodshot eyes. “What... What should I do...?” 

“That's not something I can answer for you.” The prosecutor regarded him levelly. “Wright... Only you can decide where to go from here. One year ago... At that time, I didn't truly understand what a "prosecutor" was. And that is why... I had to leave the Prosecutor's Office. I felt that I couldn't stand in a court of law until I knew what a prosecutor truly was.” He expelled a heavy sigh. “And now, Wright ... It's _your_ turn.” 

“My... Turn?” 

Edgeworth nodded.

“What is this thing called a "lawyer"? What can you do as one? _You_ must find the answer. And you must find it on your _own_.” 

“I’m a _lawyer!”_ The defense lawyer cried helplessly. “But to fight for someone who is clearly a killer like Matt Engarde... That man is really... _Argh!”_

He buried his head in his hands, unable to go on. 

As the barrister primly reminded him that every person deserved a proper defense and fair trial as the basis of their judicial system, Phoenix's head shot up, and he goggled at his friend in disbelief. 

“A _proper_ defense?” He echoed hollowly. “But what exactly _is_ that? Is it where a lawyer forcibly and blindly gets an acquittal through shouting and trickery?” 

“Ironic that _you_ of all people should say such a thing.” Edgeworth flashed a wry grin and crossed his arms, returning Phoenix’s stare with his one of own. “Isn't that exactly how you have fought for your clients up until now?”

Phoenix was caught off guard by the confronting accusation, mildly put though it was. 

“W-Well, that may be true,” he stammered. “But...But that's...That's because I've believed my clients to be innocent from the bottom of my heart! But if I were to get _Engarde_ an acquittal... That... That isn't a proper defense at all! It goes against my ethics, my morals…and everything I’ve ever believed in!” 

Edgeworth didn’t reply, just continued gazing at him thoughtfully, so the flustered spiky-haired man continued his ramblings. 

“I became a lawyer because I thought I could save people who were suffering and in pain...”

He made the mistake of glancing at Pearl at that moment, whose downcast eyes were welling up, and his voice broke then.

“But... When I look at this mess we're in... I can't even protect the person closest to me!” He regarded the prosecutor with anguished eyes, now brimming with unshed tears. “Even if I _win_ the case, I – I still _lose_ in the end! I just don't know what to do!”

Sensing the other man was a moment away from a complete emotional breakdown, Edgeworth spoke quickly, his voice gentle but firm. 

“Wright. Would you get a hold of yourself? You have it all wrong.” Noting his rival's utterly bewildered expression, Edgeworth lightly shook his shoulder, as though trying to jostle some sense into him. “We aren't some sort of _heroes_. We're only human, you and I. You want to _save_ someone? That's something easier said than done, wouldn't you say?” 

“Th-That's...” Pearl’s little face crumpled at the bluntness of the words. 

Edgeworth looked guiltily at the child for a moment, hating to upset her, but he had to make his point, so he pressed on.

“Wright, you are a defense lawyer. You can't run away from that. You can only fight. That's all you can do.” 

_This is really rich, coming from Edgeworth_ , Phoenix reflected bitterly. _This is, after all, the same man who steamrolled all of his courtroom opposition by any means necessary in the past, in the identical manner of an honorary Von Karma! And now **he’s** urging **me** to fight? Why? _

“People like you and Franziska von Karma are always using all you have to pin me down. You fight to the very end, even when you _know_ the truth is not with you.” The black-haired man shook his head stubbornly. “But I'm not like you. I can't fight for a false verdict for a man I _know_ to be guilty!” 

Rather than seeming affronted by the sharp veracity, Edgeworth merely nodded his agreement to the statement. When he at last spoke, there was a look of repentance in his eyes that Phoenix had never seen before. 

“Franziska... She fights for herself.” The prosecutor’s visage was a mask of sadness. The remorse in his tone was impossible to miss as he uttered the next words. “The only thing she fights for is her perfect win record. That's all.” 

Phoenix blinked, astounded at the lamenting tone of the normally composed other man. Edgeworth sounded flat-out pained as he regretfully acknowledged Franziska’s shortcomings. Almost as though it nearly _broke his heart_ to say them out loud. 

_What exactly is going on with those two_? He wondered, not for the first time. _Who is Franziska Von Karma to Miles Edgeworth? No doubt they’ve been raised by the same monster of a father but…while I’ve been wrongfully blind to seeing the true nature of many things these last few days, I’m betting my attorney’s badge that this is much more than a case of mere sibling admonishment or professional sympathy to me!_

However, now was not the time to pry into Edgeworth’s affairs or matters of the heart. Not when there were more pressing matters to deal with. Besides, what position was _Mr. Chooses Death_ in to point out the wrongdoings of others when _he_ was no better? 

_“And!?_ Isn't that the same as _you!?”_ Phoenix retorted with a scowl. “Isn't that why _you_ ran away a year ago? Because _your_ precious win record was destroyed!?” 

The other man looked away then, and the blue attorney's voice rose. 

“To hell with your hypocrisy, Edgeworth! You are so goddamn petty!” 

Rather than get defensive at the accusation, a look of understanding dawned on Edgeworth’s face then. 

“I see. Now, at last, I understand why you despise me so.” The ghost of a smile played across his lips. “However, you are mistaken.”   
  
Phoenix only eyed him skeptically. 

Edgeworth simply laughed softly in response, his limpid grey eyes fixed on his friend. 

"Thanks to you, when you sealed off my path to a perfect win record, I began to realize the error of my ways. I realized that things such as a perfect record were meaningless, in the grand scheme of things. And I realized that because of _you.”_

Phoenix wasn’t sure his poor frayed nerves could handle another shock to his system – he thought he’d reached maximum capacity when he’d become enlightened to the true nature of his client. But _this_ …this was too much! As much as he would have loved to have believed that _he_ had had any influence over the man who had initially inspired him to pursue the legal path, his newfound knowledge about the darkness of humanity was making him question and doubt everything and anything now.

“I don't believe you.” He ogled the DA incredulously. “Are you saying _that’s_ why you left the Prosecutor's Office?” 

The prosecutor merely nodded. 

“But then, _why?”_ Phoenix struggled to understand. “Why are you here _now_?” 

“The answer to that is something you will find out on your own.” The eyes that had been glowing with momentary warmth were immediately replaced by the typical shuttered ones as Edgeworth’s mask returned then, although his placid tone remained. “I have faith you will see it before the verdict is read tomorrow. But if you can't, then you will be powerless to change the ending of this story. The onus is entirely on _you_ , Wright.” 

Phoenix took a depth breath as he tried to absorb the enormity of everything he’d just heard. Unfortunately, he didn’t have too long to process things, as just then, his transceiver began to beep and they were again interrupted by De Killer on the radio.

Unable to hold back any longer, Phoenix demanded to know why De Killer wanted a murderer like Matt Engarde acquitted. The assassin replied that it was part of his _aftercare service._ He prided himself on the strong bond of trust between him and his clients, so having his client be convicted of murder would be a strike against his honor. 

_Just what I need. An assassin with a conscience!_

Right before the transmission ended, though, Phoenix heard a familiar meow.

Suddenly, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

_Shoe! I’d know that meow anywhere! And that familiar bellboy from the hotel … that was the butler at the mansion! **That’s** Shelly De Killer! That madman is keeping Maya there at the Engarde Estate!_

“Edgeworth!” He yelped. “You heard that sound too, didn’t you?” 

The prosecutor eyed him strangely.

“You mean that cat in the background?” 

“I think... I know where Shelly de Killer is holding Maya hostage!” Phoenix felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Edgeworth! Have all police units head for the Engarde Mansion _immediately_!” He turned to Pearl then. "Don't lose hope yet, Pearls! The fight has only just begun!” 

“Y-Yeah!” The little girl cheered, scampering behind Phoenix’s fleeting form as fast as her legs would carry her. 

_I’m coming for you, Maya!_ He thought frantically as he raced out the door. _Please, **please** , be alright!_

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Engarde Mansion, Living Room_  
March 22, 2018, 10:45 PM

The police had the place surrounded. Bursting into Engarde’s living room, the first thing Phoenix noted was the bear figurine sitting by the door with the pet flap he and Pearl had noticed off to the side. 

Edgeworth grunted as he jiggled the doorknob. It didn’t budge. 

“Umph! This door...It's _locked!”_

Phoenix was completely undaunted.

“Well, I'm pretty used to breaking doors down by now! Let's go, Edgeworth!” 

The men ran at the door with all their might, using their broad, muscled shoulders as battering rams. 

SLAM! SLAM! CRASH! 

The door gave way, and the men raced down the stairs, with Pearl frantically calling out Maya’s name as they looked around a room that appeared to be some sort of a lounge. 

The first thing the defense lawyer noted was the huge television and speakers. 

_I'm sure if Maya saw this, she'd say, "I would die a happy Samurai fan if I could see the Nickel Samurai on a TV like this!"_ Phoenix chuckled ruefully to himself. _Yeah, that's **exactly** what she'd say...Ack! I can't believe I just made a joke like that about Maya, all things considered! Man, I **totally suck**!_

They looked around some more but found nothing of any relevance, so they rushed to the wine cellar. 

There was nobody there. It seemed they were too late. 

Edgeworth was extremely apologetic to report after a few moments that it appeared De Killer had somehow managed to slip away with Maya; they were nowhere to be found on the premises.

Phoenix barely bit back a curse at the news.

 _Maya! Where are you? Dammit, I was so close!_

“And now... we've lost our only lead.” He hung his head dejectedly.

“Don't give up yet,” Edgeworth advised kindly. He gestured to the saddened spirit medium next to them. “Besides, that little girl is looking to you to be her pillar.” 

Pearl’s lower lip was trembling, her eyes once again filled with tears of disappointment.  
  
“Yeah, you’re right.” Phoenix sighed as he pulled the tiny Fey over to his side in a quick hug. That was when he noticed the “With love, Celeste” photo on the ground. He picked it up, about to stash it for the court record in case it was a clue, when suddenly, Pearl gasped, reaching out and demanding to see that picture frame. 

Dumbly, the lawyer obliged, confused about what was so special about the item, when Pearl told him that she was certain she’d seen _writing_ on that back! 

Pearl squinted at the letters in the dim lighting. “Maya!” She shouted. “Mystic Maya! She left us a message!” 

"Wh-What!?” Phoenix snatched the photo back and quickly read aloud the letter in Maya’s beloved familiar hand.

* * *

**_I thought you'd come. I knew you would. Now listen up! You'd better get Engarde a guilty sentence ok? If you get that creepy slimebag a not guilty, I'll never forgive you, ever! I'm fine, so you don't need to worry. There's so much I want to write, but I don't think I have a lot of time left. Pearly, you're there too, right? Make sure you help Nick, okay? Someone's gotta watch out for that helpless lunk! Um... That's it for now, Nick. I guess I'll talk to you guys later._ **

****

**_Love,  
Maya_ **

* * *

“Nooooooooo!” Pearl wailed, burying her head against her cousin’s perceived Special Someone side and beginning to sob uncontrollably against him. “Mystic Mayaaaaaaa...”

The entire world seemed to vanish before Phoenix’s eyes at that moment as he remained rooted there, completely frozen, vaguely aware of his hand absently stroking the hysterical child’s hair as he pulled her even tighter against him. On the outside, he was standing there in that dark cellar, staying strong for Pearl’s sake, while attempting to comfort her with his embrace.

On the inside though, he was a million miles away. He swayed slightly on his feet as a kaleidoscope of swirling emotions flooded his mind in that instant, the sheer, tidal force of them nearly knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Wright!” Edgeworth was alarmed by the dazed, faraway look in the other man’s eyes. Had he gone into shock?

Phoenix’s mind reeled at the revelation which, at last, his mind would not allow him to suppress any longer.

_I’m in love with her._

The realization shouldn’t have shaken him to the core like it did, but it had. Out of the million moments in the past couple of years of trying to understand just what it was that he felt, after countless efforts of trying to sweep his feelings under a rug, and after all the trite excuses he’d made about why he _shouldn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t_ feel this way… all it had taken was _one little note_ to make him now clearly see what deep down, he’d always known. One little note, where the spirit medium whose safety was still in mortal peril had nevertheless used her last words to urge him to choose justice over her own life. That hastily scrawled message, in just a few sentences, had conveyed to him the beatific, noble, selfless purity of the soul behind the girl who’d written them, to at last make him recognize the irrefutable evidence his heart would no longer allow him to deny.

_I’m in love with Maya Fey._

The realization had him rocking on his heels.

Phoenix Wright was utterly, hopelessly, insanelyin love with this headstrong, boisterous, wonderful, _maddening_ young woman; the one who made his life worth living. The one made him so consistently, sublimely, incomparably happier than he’d ever been in his whole life.

Because of Maya Fey, while they’d had moments of hardships, these last two years had been so incredibly, ecstatically unforgettably joyous. He’d just never acknowledged it, not to himself or anyone else.

Lord, she made him so unbelievably happy! The kind of halcyon existence that elevated the spirit, lifted one from the mire of whatever was normal. Maybe that's why he’d noticed the spirit medium; she wasn't like that at all. Despite the strife she’d suffered in life, she still had _inner happiness_ , one utterly independent of the outside world. She smiled like it burst from within instead of being worn like an obligation in the way others did.

_Happy is what I feel when Maya walks in the door when I know for the rest of the evening she’s all mine, even if we’re just vegging in front of the TV. It's not that she even always wants me to be like her, all fireworks and chatter; she knows after work, mostly I’m so quiet, unwinding after a busy day. Just being near her lights me up inside, gives me a serenity I can never know without her being close. It's like the breaths I take aren't full when she's away, like the smiles I smile are incomplete somehow. Just sitting next to her on the sofa is my favorite place in the world. It's **her** that creates the warmth in my soul, **her** that fills me full of love and keeps the fire burning in my eyes. If that isn't happiness I don't know what is, so I'll let it be my own definition, the one I keep with me always._

But now, Maya wasn’t by his side. And he’d been completely lost without her, just as when she’d first gone back to Kurain.

Her joyous presence had been something else he'd taken for granted. She'd always been there and always would, right? That’s what he’d always thought. With his assistant by his side, he’d always known everything was going to be alright because he had Maya and she had him. They were a team. They had been inseparable the last two years, and he’d always figured nobody could separate them, for better or worse. These last few nightmarish days, it struck him that something had just been removed from his life, his happiness. It was the springboard on which his whole life was based, it was the reason he could practice law, be a courtroom champion, and still have the energy and desire to run after two giddy, energetic young girls. How was it he'd missed it all this time?

_Because you’re a completely daft and blind **idiot attorney** , Phoenix Wright, **that’s** how!_

“Wright, what's wrong?” Edgeworth’s concerned voice shattered his reverie and mental recriminations. “Why the blank stare?”

Phoenix blinked and gave his head a shake.

“Oh, um, nothing.”  
  
He could chew himself out later for his delayed reaction to the glaringly obvious! Right now, he had a trial to ‘win’ and the woman he loved to save!


	85. I'll Be There For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Conclusion of Justice For All, case 4, Farewell My Turnabout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Just believe that everything happens for a reason. As we grow up we learn that even the one person, who wasn't supposed to let you down, probably will. You will have your heart broken, probably more than once, and it's not easier the second time around. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. Life is short, so take too many pictures, laugh way too much and love like you've never been hurt before cause every minute you spend mad or upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don't and believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that life would be easy; they just promised it would be worth it.”

**_Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _District Court, Defendant Lobby No. 3_  
March 23, 2018

Phoenix and Edgeworth went at it with all they had in court that day. It was the most emotionally draining, mentally-taxing courtroom session of the blue attorney’s life. The trial was a long, well-fought one, where both lawyers pulled out all the stops, as well as the right evidence to keep the case going, making it impossible for the judge to call a verdict.

Nevertheless, the blue attorney was a complete head case, knowing he was working on rapidly dwindling, borrowed time. It hadn’t helped that Mia as Pearl had reported that Maya hadn’t tried to channel her that morning, as she was probably too weak in her current state…

The fact that both attorneys were secretly on the same side was something they both managed to keep well hidden. However, it also had meant that the King of Turnabouts and Prodigal Prosecutor both had to morph into the _Sultan_ _and Solicitor of Stalling,_ to drag things out and buy as much time as they could till they were sure Maya had been rescued!

Phoenix played every card he had in delaying Engarde's guilty verdict, even though at one point, he may have gone a bit too far and the judge thought he was immoral enough to hire an assassin! Of course, that _may_ have been _partially_ his fault…

On a transmitter radio, Shelly De Killer was falsely testifying that the client who’d hired him was Adrian Andrews. Talk about an unexpected twist! But how to expose the lie and somehow prolong the trial, without incurring the hitman's suspicion?

“Um... Witness…” Phoenix floundered, wracking his brain for an excuse to stretch out the conversation with the assassin. “About requesting a hit...”

“Yes?” Queried De Killer’s disembodied voice from the radio.

“Er…” Phoenix smiled sheepishly. “How much is your fee...?”

There was dead silence in the courtroom following the outlandish question. Finally, De Killer spoke.

“I see you are also quite a dark-hearted man, Mr. Attorney...” There was a grin of beguilement in the assassin’s voice. “If you would like to talk business, we can do so after the trial...”

“Ack! _NONONO_!” Phoenix squawked in horror. “I'm not thinking of hiring –”

“M-M-Mr. Wright!!” The judge thundered.

“Y-Yes!?” He gulped.

“Y-Y-You...” The old man’s eyes were wide with fear and revulsion. “You _want to kill me_...You _want me dead_...DON'T YOU!?!?”

_Whoever said lawmen had no imagination?!_

“Whaaaat!?” Phoenix clapped an exasperated hand to his forehead, barely suppressing the impulse to either start screaming or bursting into hysterical laughter at the sheer lunacy of the situation. “ _Why_ would you think something like that, Your Hon –”

“Guilty! MR. PHOENIX WRIGHT!” The panic-stricken judge shrieked, pounding his gavel with each word. “You are hereby declared GUILTY!!”

“Gah!” Phoenix gulped, drawing back in horror.

There was a tense silence in the courtroom yet again, which mercifully, the genius prosecutor broke.

“...Witness.” Edgeworth was all but rubbing his temples at this whole exchange. “Let's continue...shall we?”

Phoenix was well aware at this point that the entire _peanut gallery_ in the courtroom audience had begun to demonize him if they hadn’t already! But he didn’t care. Like a sacred mantra, he simply repeated the looped thought over and over again in his mind, to get him through the ordeal.

_This is to save Maya... This is to save Maya...Even if the whole world turns against me, this is one fight I can't give up on._

The DA had truly come through in the end. There was no way he could have gotten this far without him – after all, the only reason he’d even become privy to the truth was because of the prosecutor! The other’s man’s unfaltering constancy had been exemplified when Gumshoe had called Phoenix on his phone, asking for a little more time. Panicked, Phoenix had hurled his phone across the court to the opposing counsel, who although hanging up, managed to maintain his legendary cool and helped stall things by asking for 30 minutes to check the authenticity of Celeste Impax's will.

The spiky-haired man had gotten the opportunity to repay the favor when De Killer’s testimony of naming the client who’d hired him was falsely declared to be Adrian Andrews. With that testimony alone, he could have easily gotten an acquittal for Engarde, but he decided to go on with the cross-examination. He owed it to the other man, not just as his courtroom colleague/rival…but as his old _friend_ _._

 _Edgeworth could have gotten a guilty verdict at any time up until now, but he didn't. If I push for an acquittal now, it'll be like I betrayed him. I can't do that. He trusted me. And…_ ** _I_** _trust_ **_him_** _. I_ **_do_** _trust him._

But like everything good, it all had to come to an end, and Phoenix was forced to make a decision: Maya's life or putting an innocent person in jail. Ultimately, he just couldn't do it. He was a complete wreck about having to make such a decision – he couldn't have the girl he loved die and he couldn't do the latter.

That was when fate suddenly came charging through those court doors, in the form of the _last_ person he thought would save him! Franziska Von Karma burst in like an avenging angel at that moment, bringing the evidence that would solve everything. And mercifully, it did _just_ that! The three key presented pieces had been just what they'd needed to put Engarde behind bars while saving Maya's life at the same time!

Phoenix had never felt more vindicated or such a believer of _justice for all_ when he’d seen the tormented, horrified expression of terror on the fiendish Engarde’s face when De Killer had been made aware of his client’s breach of his revered trust …and announced that he’d be changing who his new ‘target’ would be! He never had thought the day would come when he’d live to see a guilty murderer blatantly confessing his terror so readily…and begging to be put behind bars…because it was a safer, more desirous fate than being targeted by the hitman he’d hired!

_I **told** you I’d get you Engarde, you smarmy, sick bastard! I have always been a man of my word!_

Phoenix was more than happy to have lost his first case, and he couldn't have done it without the help of the prosecutor he had come to trust.

No matter what an awful thing Edgeworth had done, for whatever reason, by faking his death, he felt contrite about it. He’d gallantly endured all the verbal lashes Phoenix had slung at him with his signature aplomb and had _still_ helped him out every step of the way. That certainly went a long way towards atonement, as far as Phoenix was concerned.

_I’ve known him for too long. He’s too important to me. I can’t hold a petty grudge or try to exact any sort of revenge. Even though he’s never fully explained or asked for my pardon… I forgive him._

These were Phoenix’s decisive thoughts, which put his mind at ease completely as he walked out of the courtroom, freshly exhilarated despite the first “loss” on his lawyer record. He was smiling as he faced Edgeworth, who assured him that Maya was now safe, as De Killer had released her _,_ _as surely as he had released the two-faced Engarde as his client_ _,_ and was on her way over to the courthouse!

“ _Aaaaaaaaah_! Mystic Maya! Mystic Maya's safe!! You did it!” Pearl screeched, giving him an ecstasy-laden shot to the arm. “You really did it, Mr. Nick!”

Phoenix winced. 

_Oww... She punches deceptively hard for a kid...even if it was one of joy!_

“I... I believed in you!” Pearl sniffed. “I kept saying to myself: Mr. Nick will save her...Mr. Nick will save her... _Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah_!” And then she lurched herself into his arms.

As he held the little girl, who was sobbing tears of happy relief, in his embrace, Phoenix looked over her head at his friend and smiled awkwardly. “Thanks, Edgeworth.”

The other man nodded, the slight smile on his lips fading then as he spotted Franziska coming out of the courtroom. Following the direction of the prosecutor's suddenly discomfited gaze, Phoenix flashed an uncomfortable grin upon seeing the German woman and mumbled his thanks.

Instead of replying, Franziska lashed out and whipped him _,_ _right on the same spot on his arm_ where Pearl had just jabbed him!

“OW!” He yelped. “What was _that_ for!?”

“Why are you still smiling Mr. Phoenix Wright!?” She demanded crossly, putting her hands on her hips. “You...You _lost_!! Your great rival here has triumphed over you, at last, so your perfect win record has now been crushed! And yet... You are still _happy_!?”

“I don't think you'll ever understand... Ms. Von Karma.” Phoenix shook his head pityingly at her. “Which is too bad. I – I actually feel sorry for you.”

“ _You_ feel sorry for _me_?!” Her gray eyes widened in outrage. “How _dare_ you!?” 

“Don't worry. She may get it in due time,” Edgeworth spoke quietly. “After all, _I_ was like that _myself_ , until a year ago.” 

Both Phoenix and Franziska gasped in shock at seeing the proud prosecutor humbling himself to speak on behalf of the defense attorney. 

“For my own personal victories...and for guilty verdicts... I used every dirty trick in the book. And so my win record remained spotless." Edgeworth's voice was laced with regret and self-disgust. "But then one day, out of the blue, a man appeared and stood fast against that selfish me. I fought him in my usual manner and tasted my first defeat. I felt like I had lost everything because of that. And then...the fateful day came when it was _my_ turn to sit in the defendant's chair, only to wind up being saved...by that person I'd foolishly called my 'enemy.' I couldn't forgive myself for all that had happened. So I left the Prosecutor's Office, leaving behind that note reading _Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death_.." 

“Humph, as well you should have!” Franziska snapped. “A prosecutor who has shamed himself with defeat _should_ crawl into a hole and die!” 

“But that was _not_ what happened. After I left the Prosecutor's Office, I finally came to realize something.” Edgeworth’s gaze flickered to Phoenix for a moment before settling back on Franziska, as though trying to privately convey a message to her. “And it was in _that_ moment of clarity that _everything_ _began to change_ _.”_

Evidently, the unspoken words rang loud and clear. She blushed slightly while struggling to maintain her lofty tone.

“Wh-What foolish nonsense...” 

“It was the _truth_ , Franziska,” Edgeworth’s eyes bored into hers. “I’m not proud to say so, but it is. We prosecutors use anything we can to attack the defendant. But every time we did so... No matter how desperate the situation, instead of giving up like most people, _that man_ would hold strong with his undying faith. And then, before I knew it... _I_ began to trust that man as well.”

“Wh-What!?” Franziska stared at the prosecutor in disbelief as his words sank in. “You _trusted_ _your_ _enemy!?”_

“It doesn't matter how many underhanded tricks a person uses... The truth will always find a way to make itself known.” Edgeworth was staring straight at Franziska when he spoke again, as though pleading with her to understand.

Once again, it was as though he’d forgotten Pearl and Phoenix were even there.

“The only thing we can do is to fight with the knowledge we hold and everything we have. Erasing the paradoxes one by one... It's never easy... We claw and scratch for every inch. But we will always eventually reach that one single truth. This I promise you. That's the reason why prosecutors and defense lawyers exist." Edgeworth at last lifted his intense gaze from Franziska and directed it at the astonished defense attorney. "But I'm sure _you_ knew that already, _didn't_ _you_ _, Wright_ _?”_

Phoenix was still so gobsmacked by this unanticipated revelation that he was unable to do anything more than gape at his friend, who was back in a staring match with Franziska. The woman's jaw was clenched tightly, although her lips were trembling.

“ _That's_ why you couldn't forgive me; this man who went into hiding, isn't it?” Edgeworth prodded, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the female prosecutor and affixing them on the still-silent, stunned-looking blue attorney. “Isn't that right? This man who only had his sights set on "victory", who ran away like a thief in the night...” 

“Ah!” Pearl’s eyes were huge with awe as she looked first up at Edgeworth then at Phoenix. “Is...Is Mr. Edgeworth right, Mr. Nick...!?” 

_You really let me down… but at least, now I somewhat understand why._

“When you disappeared, I felt...betrayed.” Phoenix struggled to find the right words. “The reason I decided to become a lawyer, to begin with, was because I believed in the things _you_ said to me, all those years ago. And then...you _betrayed_ your _own_ words.” He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “That's why, one year ago, I made up my mind. I decided that the Miles Edgeworth I knew had died... At least, that's what I told myself.” 

_At least, that’s what I_ ** _had_** _to convince myself. I_ **_needed_** _to believe that, even though I didn’t want to, if I ever wanted to find the strength to carry on…_

“You pathetic fool! I don't want to hear the wretched whimpering of a disgraced loser!” Franziska snarled, breaking the peaceful stillness with a crack of her whip against the floor. It wasn’t clear to whom she was speaking as her infuriated gaze raked both men with scorn, although it seemed to linger a tad longer on Edgeworth. “A Von Karma is someone who is destined to be perfect! Miles Edgeworth... You are no longer worthy!” Her voice shook with emotion.

Edgeworth took a step towards her, but she shook her head and backed away, but not before he saw the hint of angry tears sparkling in her eyes, which he knew she would be too proud to shed.

“ _You_ are no longer worthy of being a Von Karma! And _neither am I_!” Franziska cried, her stormy eyes zeroing in on Edgeworth one final time before hurling something to the ground. “It's over... _It's all over_!”

With that, she stormed off, leaving a forlorn-looking Edgeworth behind, staring after her.

 _He looks like he wants to go run after her, but is allowing himself to be held back,_ Phoenix noted, still confounded by what he’d witnessed between the two prosecutors. _That’s the first time I’ve seen Franziska so emotional - beyond mere wrath! And not even directed at_ **_me_** _this time! But there was more than just anger in that last look she shot at Edgeworth - there was a lot of pain there, too. There’s no denying it –_ _something_ _is up with these two. And it sure as hell ain't no_ _sibling rivalry!_

That was when he noticed what the fiery femme had left behind on the floor in her wake. Edgeworth followed his eyes and bent down to retrieve the electromagnetic receiver. As he murmured he’d return the tracking device that she’d planted on poor Gumshoe to the precinct later, the former Solicitor of Stalling then spotted the familiar coil of black leather curled up on the tile, clutched it in his fist, and squeezed his eyes shut. 

"I'll never set foot in another courtroom again.” The expression of unmasked anguish on his handsome face was impossible to miss. “I'm sure that's what she's saying by this action...” 

_Good grief, Edgeworth, what are you doing here? Go after her!_ Phoenix stared at his friend, speechless by the tormented look he saw in those usually hardened grey eyes. _You_ **_know_** _you want to! And I’d bet my bottom dollar_ _F_ _ranziska wouldn’t pose any objections, e_ _ither! You two have so much left unsaid…even_ _more_ _than_ _you and I_ _ever did!_

But he remained silent. Things had only just now thawed out between him and the other man, and he didn’t wish to speak out of turn and worsen things or pry into what was clearly a very private, and a very _personal_ affair between a man and woman who, for whatever reason, wanted to convey the impression that there was no love lost. 

Edgeworth cleared his throat. “You should keep this, Wright.” He waved the whip at Phoenix then, who only took it because it appeared as though it pained the other man to even look at it anymore. 

_I was wrong. This isn’t a case of no love lost_ , the reformed Sultan of Stalling finally realized, looking solemnly at his friend. _This is a case of way_ _too much love_ _… left_ _unspoken_ _._

He didn’t have too much time to dwell on this newfound epiphany, however, because it the next instant, Phoenix heard a well-known sound. 

“ _Nick_ _!!”_

There was only _one girl in the world_ who called him that name. And never before had it ever sounded more like music to his ears. 

He spun around upon hearing his nickname and came face to face with his beloved assistant. Phoenix let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding as Maya half ran, half wobbled to him and Pearl. The little girl was the first one to make it to her cousin as Maya bent down to receive her hug, but Phoenix couldn't wait for his turn and he enveloped both girls in a tight embrace. There were no words to describe his joyous relief. Maya was here, safe and sound. Moreover, best of all, she was by his side once more. 

Maya buried her head in his shoulder as tears streamed down her cheeks. 

“Oh, Nick! I knew you would come through!” She wept. “You got Engarde convicted like I knew you would! And on top of that, you even rescued me!” 

Phoenix drew back to study that cherished, familiar visage, as beautiful as ever despite looking a tad pale and drawn. There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much he wanted to hear _her_ say. But the time wasn’t now. Not with little Pearl squealing by their side, and Edgeworth smiling shyly in the background, nervously scuffing his shoe against the floor, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

“Well, of course, I did!” He teased. “You know I would never desert you! What are heroes for, right?” 

Maya laughed giddily and wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck. 

Phoenix allowed himself a brief moment of savoring the sensation of having her safely in his arms before he chuckled awkwardly and reluctantly pulled away. 

“But we sure pressed our luck this trial... You're really lucky to be standing here!” 

“Whatever, whatever,” Maya quipped, giggling. “Look, it's over, OK? Besides, if I _did_ croak, I would just come back and haunt you like a bad ghost through Pearly!” 

Phoenix gulped. 

_Is it really that easy to do something like that...?_

“Th-Thanks a lot... Nick.” Maya was looking up at him while flashing her best shit-eating grin.

“Um... Don't mention it.” He mumbled, trying to keep his tone level, and failing.

The catch in his voice was impossible to miss, and suddenly, the laughter died in her eyes as she stared at him with mocha orbs again brimming with tears…and a myriad of emotions. He gazed right back, hoping she could read what he so desperately wished to convey with his own.

“Maya...” Edgeworth cleared his throat behind them then, momentarily breaking the spell.

“Mr. Edgeworth!” The spirit medium beamed, at last noticing the debonair man’s presence. 

“Um... I'm relieved you're alright,” he mumbled uncomfortably, looking very much like a man who knew he was intruding on a private moment he didn’t belong in, but not knowing what to do about it. 

Maya’s smile grew even broader at his discomfort.

“Hey... It looks like you've made some real progress, Mr. Edgeworth!” 

“Yes, well, a lot has happened in the past year…” Edgeworth blushed slightly. “Well, I suppose I'm a little different from who I was a year ago. Er, you know, more forthcoming and approachable and what have you…” 

_There was_ **_no_** _other way for you to_ **_go_** _, Edgeworth!_ Phoenix smirked to himself, and then let out a shout of laughter at the unmistakable sound of all six of Maya’s stomachs loudly growling at that exact moment. 

“We are going for food _now_!” The psychic declared merrily, an impish twinkle in her eye. “I'm starved! I'm so hungry even _you_ look like a nice, juicy burger on a bun to me, Nick!” 

“Y-You think I look like a _burger_...?” Phoenix demurred, refusing to be enthusiastic about the woman he loved wanting to _sink her teeth into him_ if it was in _the literal_ context! “Come on! I'm a _Prime Rib_ at least!” 

“Grand feast in honor of my return to the _land of the living_!” Maya announced, then winked at the prosecutor. “And _yours_ , too, it would appear, eh, Mr. Edgeworth?” 

Edgeworth merely reddened in response. 

“Gatewater Hotel, here we come!” Maya was already headed to the doors. 

“Come with us, Mr. Edgeworth!” Pearl implored. “ _Please_ _!”_

Edgeworth smiled timorously, looking pleased with being included but unsure how to convey as much. “Uh, um... If you insist.”

“Of course we do!” Maya shot him a mischievous grin. “ _Who_ do you think is _driving_ us over, after all?”

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Gatewater Hotel Lobby_  
March 23, 2018, 7:38 PM

Lotta Hart, the newly rehired Detective Dick Gumshoe, and Will Powers joined them for the feast, where the ever-gourmandizing Maya ate her weight in gourmet fare, and then looked _disappointed_ then the Head Chef came downstairs to notify them that they would be closing the kitchen down shortly, despite the early hour. 

In other words…the hotel was running out of food since the others were making such _pigs_ of themselves, so _would they please stop eating!_

Phoenix was both mortified and relieved, especially since he was sure the bill would add up to close to his _next month’s salary!_

Edgeworth greeted his reinstated subordinate with surprising warmth, citing that Gumshoe was the one who’d saved the day in the end. This was despite the Detective's atrocious driving skills, which had made him hit a telephone pole, resulting in the big man’s mild head injury, and ergo _Franziska_ , not he, being the one to rush the three pieces of key evidence to court! 

“It might be the head injury…” Gumshoe scratched at his bandages. “But I could have _sworn_ when I ran off with the things from De Killer's hideout, I took _four_ things total, sir!” 

Phoenix was surprised. 

_There was a fourth item?_

"Oh?"

“Yeah, I'm sure I put one of the items in my coat pocket.” 

“Bah, it’s all over!” Lotta dismissed airily, waving her hand and resting her sharp eyes on Maya with interest. “But whoo boy, I tell ya! You really are somethin' else! Between getting' accused of murder and getting' kidnapped...Never a dull moment with you, huh?” 

“Hahaha,” Maya tittered. “You think?”

 _Had I been a cat, these last couple of days would have spooked me out of_ _eight_ _of my_ _nine_ _lives!_ Phoenix grumbled to himself. _So, why does she look so_ _happy_ _about that...?_

“But being shut away for two whole days…” Pearl shuddered. “Weren't you scared...?”

A slight shadow crossed the spirit medium’s sunny face then.

“Yeah, it was really scary. I felt so hopeless…” She gave her head a shake and affixed her cousin with her customary megawatt smile. “So to keep my mind off of things, I drew a picture!”

Lotta and Pearl, of course, were keen to see the said picture. Phoenix was as well, but he kept silent as he studied Maya’s face, her delicate brows knitted together as she searched her memory for said item’s whereabouts, but then shrugged and blithely said she couldn’t recall where she’d left it.

“Aww...” Pearl looked crestfallen. “That's too bad.”

“W-Well, it's alright!” Maya replied, a tad too quickly. “It wasn't anything _important_ anyway!”

 _Well, if she says so, then I’m not going to give it another thought either then_. Phoenix mentally shrugged. _It sure is nice to finally see them both smiling again._

His attention was diverted from the Fey girls at that moment as he suddenly heard the familiar beeping of Franziska’s receiver.

Gumshoe groaned when he recognized the device, citing that because of Franziska slapping that tracking device on him, he’d had the most _miserable experience of his life!_

_And this is coming from a man whose salary had been cut so many times he was forced to live on ramen noodles!_

“Even though _you're_ standing right here, the tracking device seems to be in a _different_ location though …” Edgeworth’s brow furrowed in contemplation.

“Oh... It's probably busted or something, sir.” Gumshoe guessed. “It did take quite a beating when I hit that telephone pole…”

The prosecutor nodded, still looking thoughtful, as he politely excused himself then and cited that he had some work to do.

“Huh!? But Mr. Edgeworth!” Maya protested. “You haven't even eaten anything yet!”

 _And_ **_you've_** _eaten way too much, you glutton!_ Phoenix noted wryly.

“I had fun tonight.” Edgeworth bowed graciously. “Now, if you'll excuse me…” He turned to leave, but Phoenix clamped a hand on the prosecutor’s shoulder, halting him.

“Wait.”

“What?” Edgeworth arched a finely groomed brow.

“I just want to say, thanks, Edgeworth,” Phoenix smiled warmly. “You really saved me out there.”

“If anyone should be saying thanks, it should be me, Wright.” Edgeworth shook his head and looked away. “It’s because of you that this former Demon Prosecutor regained his soul.”

Phoenix swallowed at the poignancy of the words, as well as the appreciativeness in those normally guarded eyes that the other man’s still stoic nature wouldn’t allow him to convey.

They had come full circle now, and their friendship was well on the road to recovery. It was the kind of friendship that bloomed in the center of your heart - that kind of friendship that grew from the seed basking in the warm soil, into a vast tree with many ups and downs, many - but not enough to disguise the enormity of the grandeur of such a tree, the sheer brilliance, and beauty of it.

17 years later, because of Phoenix Wright, even though he’d strayed from his own predetermined defense attorney path, Miles Edgeworth had discovered the integrity of what being a prosecutor truly meant and had been inspired to become a better version of the man he used to be.

 _In this life, my good friend, you aren't the fountains in the park or the fireworks on the fourth of July. You aren't a fine wine or an aged cheese._ Edgeworth thought, wishing he could find the courage to say the words aloud. _You are fresh air and clean water, you are rich soil for the harvest and the sweet spring rain. You are all the things we don't know we need or love so dearly until they are gone. So now that we swim in the tidewater near our third decades, I wish I could convey to you what you mean to me, what you mean to all those lives you have touched. No one can change the world in a single stroke, Wright, but with each act of trust, faith, and selfless deed, you made all the difference in the world and I feel blessed to know you._

Because of Miles Edgeworth’s kindness and sense of justice at the tender age of nine, Phoenix Wright had discovered what his life’s destined path would be. 

_He’s got a kind of brutal honesty that tests most friendships, but I appreciate it. I’ll always know where I stand with him. As a child, he was steadfast, and as an adult, he’s not only that but generous to a fault, both with his time and resources. I get the feeling that he has few friends, and so his loyalty to those who stick with him is fierce. Some friends are for a reason, some are for a season and some are for a lifetime. Edgeworth is for life. How I yearn to say all this to him!_ _I feel like words alone aren't enough here…I wonder if there's anything I can give him to express how I feel...?_

Suddenly inspiration struck him and he retrieved the whip Edgeworth had handed to him earlier.

“Please, take this,” Phoenix urged softly, pressing it into the other man’s resisting fingers. “Thank you...you two are just as much of a hero as I am. It's all thanks to you two. You... and her.”

“You don't need to thank me.” The barrister coughed. “I was only doing my job.”

Phoenix peered earnestly into the other man’s eyes, silently trying to convey the message he still didn’t feel prudent to say.

 _Take this to her, Edgeworth._ **_Go_** ** _to her_** _, wherever she is. I know your heart is already there, which is the_ **_real_** _reason that you want to leave so soon…_

Edgeworth got the message. He nodded.

“I’ll see you around, Wright.”

“Good luck!” Phoenix called after him, although uncertain if his friend had heard.

“It looks like Mr. Edgeworth has left, Mr. Nick,” Pearl observed behind him, before turning to her cousin. “Hey, Mystic Maya?”

The necromancer paused in the middle of shoveling one of the three pieces of cake on her plate into her mouth.

“Hmm? Yes, Pearly?”

“I guess you two can go back to being lovey-dovey, right?” Pearl clapped her hands. “You and Mr. Nick, I mean...”

Maya turned 50 shades of red then.

“P-Pearly!” She spluttered. “Would you cut it out already!? You're embarrassing me!”

Had the lawyer’s cheeks not been flaming simultaneously at the time, he would have laughed himself silly at how hilariously the spirit medium had managed to shoot pink pastry icing out of her mouth as she voiced her protests!

After some skirmish about who would pay the bill – including the $3000 one for Lotta’s new camera – the diviner had oh-so-valiantly offered her boss to be the sole payer, while Phoenix, of course, had voiced a very loud _Objection!_ Regarding such matters, Pearl turned to Phoenix and Maya, pressing her hands to her pink cheeks and assuming her most angelic expression.

“I'm so happy that you could save Mystic Maya, Mr. Nick! And I'm so happy for the two of you!” The little spirit medium affixed them with a bright, hopeful smile. “Speaking of... I think this hotel is a popular place for honeymooners...So I sort of... made reservations for the two of you... Just in case!”

The last thing Miles Edgeworth heard before he exited the main doors of the Gatewater Hotel was the indignant squawks of Phoenix and Maya at a decibel which, up until that point, he’d thought only _dogs_ could hear!

“Pearls! _You did_ _what_ _?!_ _When_ did you even get your hands on my _credit card?!”_

“Pearly! _What the hell?_!”

The prosecutor chuckled to himself as he climbed into his Alfa Romeo and headed towards the direction of where the device beeping had come from.

 _Good luck, Wright!_ He thought with amusement. _Looks like I’m not the only one who’s going to need it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Those of you who've read my Fredgeworth story, The Ties That Bind, know exactly where Miles rushed off to after he left that dinner party - as well as what happened! ;)


	86. In My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In The Ties That Bind, Franny and Edgeworth wind up being together because of the love advice given to Edgy by Phoenix and Maya after he made a fateful phone call to the defense attorney. This chapter begins with the aftermath of what happened with Phaya after Edgy hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are places I'll remember  
> All my life, though some have changed  
> Some forever, not for better  
> Some have gone, and some remain  
> All these places had their moments  
> With lovers and friends, I still can recall  
> Some are dead, and some are living  
> In my life, I've loved them all
> 
> But of all these friends and lovers  
> There is no one compares with you  
> And these memories lose their meaning  
> When I think of love as something new
> 
> Though I know I'll never lose affection  
> For people and things that went before  
> I know I'll often stop and think about them  
> In my life, I'll love you more
> 
> Though I know I'll never lose affection  
> For people and things that went before  
> I know I'll often stop and think about them  
> In my life I'll love you more

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_** _  
Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
March 23, 2018, 10:15 PM

The duo stood there in disbelief listening to the dead silence on the phone, as the third voice that'd been on the line had since departed without their notice.

“I can’t believe Mr. Edgeworth _hung up on us like that!”_ Maya was positively indignant. “How _rude_ _!”_

“Well, we _did_ sort of go off on a tangent,” Phoenix admitted sheepishly. “Considering the poor guy was coming to me for love advice about what to do with the whole Franziska thing and then somehow we got on the topic of your cousin and her Special Someone spiel…”

“Right! I remember now!” She recollected, then cleared her throat. “Um, hey, Nick?”

“Yeah, Maya?”

“Er, why are we still talking to each other on the phone when I’m right next to you?”

Phoenix turned around, the telephone still at his ear, and snickered as he realized Maya was indeed correct – she was standing beside his desk in the office, with the cordless phone still held against her head.

“The only reason _you_ were on the phone was that you decided to snoop in on that very personal phone call, Miss Nosy,” he teased, replacing the receiver in the cradle. “All this time I thought you and Pearls had gone to bed. Which is where _you_ should be too! It’s been one helluva day for all of us!”

“I got up to go to the bathroom and overheard you saying all this sweet stuff about moving heaven and earth to ensure we stayed in touch!” Maya smirked, completely unapologetic. “How could I not want to investigate!"

“You mean _to eavesdrop_ , don’t you?” Phoenix corrected gruffly, his cheeks reddening as he realized just _how_ telling his half of the conversation with Edgeworth had been and wondering just how much his assistant had listened in on when she’d picked up on the other line. “A man is entitled to _some_ privacy, Maya, you know that don’t you?”

“Oh come on, Nick, we’re best friends!” Maya flashed a cheeky grin. “Surely you don’t have secrets from little ol’ me?”

Phoenix’s hand reflexively went into his pants pocket, his fingers wrapping protectively around the small box within it and smiled innocuously.

“Of course not,” he assured her. “I’m only _kidding_!”

 _Man am I lucky she takes off her magatama when she goes to bed and didn’t think of putting it back on when she came downstairs to find me!_ He thought nervously. _I’m sure there are about a million red psyche locks she’d be able to see in front of my face if she had!_

“That’s good to hear!” She clasped her hands in front of her chest and put on a sunny smile. “But while we’re on the topic of laughing matters…did you sort out that mess with the Gatewater Hotel about the Honeymoon Suite reservations Pearly made for us tomorrow night?”

“I did. I may even have some good news on that front. ” Phoenix broke into a smile then, as he recalled the outcome of that whole situation. “Actually, I was going to talk to you about that in the morning, but since you’re awake…

“You mean you’re not mad at her anymore?” Maya demanded, her eyes wide with surprise. “I figured you’d be suing that stupid hotel for taking a credit card reservation from an _eight-year-old!_ I thought you’d be furious! _I’m_ furious, and it wasn’t even _my_ card!”

“Yeah, I was too, at first, as you very well know!” Phoenix chuckled. “And then even _more_ so when they told me that hotel policy dictated that due to the high demand of the executive suites and rooms, they’re non-refundable, and all reservations are final. Ergo, they simply can't afford to refund the cash for them.”

“That’s terrible!” Maya looked at him with even further incredulity. “For one thing, you’re not even _engaged_! For another, the cost of such a luxe room there will cost you a _fortune_! I mean, you were complaining about the cost of just me, you and Pearly’s plates for dinner! Surely it's more than the cost of Lotta’s camera, which your stingy self refused to pay by the way!” She waved her finger at him in disapproval.

“Maya, I am _not_ a bank, nor am I rich! Also, I don’t owe that frizzy-haired, Southern she-devil a _gosh-darn_ thing!” Phoenix rebutted for the millionth time. “Yes, the room will cost an arm and a leg, but we are _absolutely_ going! Costs be damned!”

“B-But… _why_ , Nick?” Maya looked positively stupefied.

“Because you’re worth it,” Phoenix replied simply. “I think after the hell on earth you and Pearl and I have been through these last few days, we’re entitled to a little luxury, are we not?”

This was too much. Despite having had zero qualms about shamelessly spending Phoenix's meager, hard-earned dollars for her every whim, without a second thought, in the past, Maya's reflective time in captivity had taught her to take nothing for granted. The spirit medium flopped down in the chair across from his desk and shook her head vehemently.

“No, Nick. I _can’t_ let you do this! That’s a _five-star hotel_!” She protested. “You’ll never be able to pay for it in a _dozen_ lifetimes!”

“Truth be told, if people are true to their word…” Phoenix paused for dramatic effect and flashed her a shit-eating grin. “As of tomorrow morning, I shall be able to pay for it within _this_ lifetime, _no_ problem!”

“ _Whaaaat_?” Her jaw dropped open.

“I slipped away to the front desk during the fiesta to talk about this whole Honeymoon Suite thing, not to mention get away from the aggravating sounds of Lotta’s squawking about me not paying for her camera, and Will Powers and Gumshoe Powers noisily counting their _combined change_ to pay for their portion of dinner, and fretting that they’d have to do dishes,” Phoenix explained, smiling sardonically at the memory. “As I turned away, completely disgruntled when the snooty concierge broke the news about how we were stuck with the said room, I got a _very surprising_ phone call…”

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright_** _  
Gatewater Hotel Lobby_  
March 23, 2018, 8:00 PM

“Phoenix Wright speaking.”

“Mr. Wright. How nice to speak to you again after so long.”

HE grimaced. The man’s cadence on the line was strangely familiar and somehow, _grotesque_. Was it even possible for a person’s voice to sound – _moist_ _?!_

“Thanks. Er, who’s this?”

“How r00d can j00 get!” The voice sounded like it was slobbering on something. “J00 don't remember ME!? It’s Sal Manella. I'm the Global Studios television director!"

 _Ugh_. The lawyer barely squelched a disgusted sound, which he hoped the other man hadn’t heard. _Of course,_ he hadn't forgotten the perverse, repulsive _human Wet-Nap_ of a man - the associated harrowing memories of him were _eternally seared_ into both Phoenix and Maya's skulls!

Sal Manella was the aptly named, _walking bacteria_ director of _The_ _Steel Samurai_ and _The_ _Pink Princess_ shows _,_ who tended to sweat profusely and salivate excessively at the mere mention of a pretty girl, or food, which he always seemed to have in his mouth. Phoenix wasn’t at all surprised that the morbidly obese glutton was feeding his face right now, as he was presently being forcibly subjected to listening to the _disgusting_ slurping sounds on the other end of the line!

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” He asked politely, waiting patiently for the other man to noisily swallow whatever wad of foodstuff he was chewing beforehand.

“I’m calling on behalf of the new head producer of the studio, who is the successor of Dee Vasquez since her ah, regretful departure from Global,” Manella explained. “Mr. Shea V. Yerbush would like to have me thank you for all your work in the Matte Engarde trial.”

Phoenix was speechless – and it wasn’t just from hearing the hilarious but _unfortunate_ moniker of the man who now ran the studio. Global was _grateful_ to him? For putting one of their hugest stars, _The Nickel Samurai_ , in the slammer?!

“Mr. Yerbush feels most grateful for the horrible media publicity you have saved our studio by getting Engarde declared guilty and sparing us the stigma of having a potential murderer on our payroll,” Manella explained, noting Phoenix’s silence. “He and his partner, Haywood Jablomi have invested a lot of money in the studio since restoring its reputation after that Will Powers incident, and are hardly keen about letting it get dragged through the mud again.”

“Well, you’re welcome then, I guess?” Phoenix was still confused. “However, I still don’t understand…”

“ _Names notwithstanding_ , these are men of the highest reputable esteem,” the director interrupted, sounding like he was chewing on something again. “They value trust between themselves and their subordinates above all else, and it was obviously misplaced in Engarde. Not to mention the fact that we no longer have to pay his outlandish salary! Did you know that criminal activity completely nulls and voids his contact?”

“I, er –” Phoenix was too flabbergasted to come up with an intelligible reply.

“Therefore, for having saved Global monetary squandering, as well as more future scandal and burden down the line,” Manella went on, as though Phoenix hadn’t spoken. “Mr. Yerbush and Mr. Jablomi wanted me to let you know that they intend to pay respect to those who have aided them, wittingly or unwittingly. A check will be couriered to your law offices at 9:00 tomorrow morning, Mr. Wright. The amount will be what Engarde would have paid for your legal fees, plus a little extra.”

“T-there must be a catch here!” Phoenix exclaimed, at last finding his voice once he heard the staggering sum. “There’s no way your studio could make such a magnanimous a gesture without wanting _something_ in return?!”

“They do,” the soggy hog admitted. “The one condition is your unconditional cooperative silence, Mr. Wright. In the unlikely event that you are approached by any of the media who will try to link a connection to your previous case with the studio, or with Global Studios in any way, you deny any and all involvement of either entirely. It would also be in your better interest to deny any association while you’re at it.”

 _No need to twist my arm!_ Phoenix thought wryly. _The sooner I leave any and all memories of Global Studios behind, none of which were good, the better! So this is essentially hush money. No problem! I know when to keep my mouth shut!_

“I shall take your silence as acquiescence,” Manella noted. “Now, I just need to confirm your address.”

As Phoenix recited the information to the director, he was still dumbfounded at this latest unexpected turn of events. Somehow, though, through the recesses of this reeling mind, he heard himself manage to utter a _thank you_.

“It’s my pleasure,” Manella told him, before assuming his typical nauseating lascivious tone. “How is my _delectable_ _Pink Princess_ doing? You know she’s the one who triggered my CR34T1V3 P0W3RZ, along with _creating quite the stir_ in my _…”_

 _Gah! Maya_ **_still_ ** _has the occasional nightmare about the lecherous Otaku and his ever-roaming gaze, which had always made her feel like she needed a shower afterward!_

“She’s fine, thanks! I should get back to her now, we’re at a party in her honor. Thanks again!” With that, Phoenix quickly hung up.

Still feeling dazed, the spiky-haired man found himself wandering into _Belle Epoque_ , the small corner jeweler’s shop that he’d passed through about a dozen times the past few days, situated just outside the hotel lobby.

As he entered, he was recognized by the same elegantly thin, fussy-looking silver-haired saleslady, whose gold-plated nametag read _Ainsley_.

"Mr. Wright," she greeted him with a bright smile. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

“Good evening, Ainsley,” Phoenix smiled. “I’ll bet you know what I want to look at.”

“It’s still here, you know,” she told him with a conspiratorial wink as she unlocked the glass counter drawer. “I know you seemed to like it when you came in the other day and asked me about what a nice token of affection would be for the special lady in your life. I sensed you would be back, so I tried to keep it sort of hidden in the back row behind the more _ostentatious_ pieces. Would you like to look at it again?”

Phoenix nodded mutely, his eyes transfixed on the exquisite adornment on a braided gold necklace he’d previously eyed on several occasions. 

When Maya had been kidnapped, he’d wanted to have some sort of token, some sort of symbol of hope, to show how much she meant to him, which he wanted to gift her with if she ever came back to him. The minute he’d set his gaze on that heart-shaped gold pendant, he’d known it was perfect for Maya. At the time, he hadn’t bought it because it’d seemed like a frivolous expense, in the grand scheme of things, as the item was definitely outside his affordable budget, and he’d had to consider the fact that Pearl would most likely be his ward if anything horrible had happened to his assistant.

But now that Maya had been brought back to him, what was a few dollars compared to the joy it would bring her?

“It’s a locket,” Ainsley told him, opening up the pendant and showing him the open sides where two small photos could fit. “It’s a hand-crafted, exclusive creation from Europe and it’s the only one we have like it. If you were to purchase it today, I can also do custom engraving for you, at no additional charge.”

“Sounds perfect.” His eyes lit up. “I’ll take both the chain and locket, please.” He handed over his credit card without a second thought, still smiling ruefully at Pearl’s pickpocket ability to have gotten it out of his wallet without his notice. If that sleight-of-hand magician-like skill wasn’t proof she was Maya’s cousin, he didn’t know what was!

“Did you have an inscription in mind?” Ainsley asked as she took out a pen and paper to jot down whatever it was.

Smiling, Phoenix told her.

“That’s so romantic!” She gushed, clasping her hands to her chest and swooning slightly, making the attorney blush slightly. “That’s one lucky lady you’ve got there, Sir!”

A few minutes later, the small velvet box secured in his pocket, Phoenix headed back to the party, whistling cheerfully to himself. The small token had cost him some pretty big bucks, but he knew Maya was worth it. It helped sweeten the deal that it wouldn’t take him half a year to pay off his Visa, either!

As the news of the director’s phone call further sank in, a broad smile crept over the attorney’s face. He’d finally gotten a break, after all, it seemed. If what Sal Manella had said was true, then it appeared this festive shindig wouldn’t bankrupt him after all. Phoenix was going to go right back to his guests and tell Powers and Gumshoe not to worry about getting dish panned hands, he would gladly pay for their plates that night! Heck, he’d even pay for Lotta’s meal, too. He’d certainly be able to afford to do so now!

However, he _still_ wasn’t paying for that blasted woman’s camera!

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_** _  
Wright & Co. Law Offices_  
March 23, 2018, 10:20 PM

“Ugh, Nick, you _could have spared me the traumatizing part of the story_ where that horrendous warthog asked about me!” Maya shuddered, scowling as Phoenix sniggered at her reaction. “But that is _such_ great news! I can’t wait to tell Pearly tomorrow morning! Did Manella happen to mention how much the check was going to be for?”

Phoenix told her the 5-digit amount, which was easily a good few 4 to 6 month’s salary, and she let out an ecstatic whoop.

“Oh my God, Nick! You should defend homicidal Hollywood stars more often!” Maya crowed. “With _that_ kind of money, we can afford to maybe even _buy_ those plushy hotel towels and robes, not just steal them like I planned to!” With that she threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over backward with the effusive vigor of the action.

Startled, but happy to hold her, Phoenix returned the embrace, until the two were finally clasped together in a warm, slow and luxurious hug, each feeling all the stressful, hellacious events of the last 72 hours melting away as they melded together, chests rising and falling against one another’s, breaths in unison, as they felt the warm blood in each other’s embrace. He buried his head in her fragrant hair as she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

“It feels good to be back, Nick,” she whispered, drawing back and looking searchingly into his eyes.

“I'm so happy to _have_ you back, Maya,” he whispered, reaching up and smoothing an errant lock of satiny ebony hair off her cheek.

“Nick, I…” She began at the same time he started with “Maya….I…”

They both stopped and laughed.

“You first,” he urged softly, tucking the stray strands behind her ear.

“Nick…I just – I wanted you to know…”

Maya’s words were suddenly interrupted by a loud, piercing scream from upstairs, effectively breaking the spell.

“Oh my God, _Pearly_!” She cried, breaking free from Phoenix’s arms and casting an apprehensive glance over her shoulder as she raced up the steps leading to the loft. “She must have had a nightmare, and then panicked when she woke up and I wasn’t there in the bed with her…”

Phoenix was hot on her heels, reaching the room just in time to see Maya cradling the little girl in her arms on the bed, making soothing, reassuring sounds to her as Pearl cried, whimpering that she’d had an awful dream that the “bad man who tried to hurt Mystic Maya had come back to steal her away again.”

“Shhh…I’m here, Pearly, it’s OK. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Maya rocked the little spirit medium against her, looking apologetically at him over the head of the child, whose eyes were starting to drift closed. “She’s starting to drowse now,” she whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Nick.”

He nodded silently and went down the hall to his room to change into his pajamas, peeking into the girl’s room one last time before he hit the hay, and saw the two of them snuggled tightly together on the bed. Maya was holding her cousin against her, and Pearl’s head for the most part was buried against Maya’s chest, her caramel strands sticking out behind like she'd just woken up from a long nap. Her tiny fingers were curled into the fabric of Maya’s nightshirt, not clasping it tightly, but just enough to reassure her they were staying together.

The two looked like a like such a picturesque maternal vision of The Madonna and Child that despite the circumstances, Phoenix’s heart was filled with so much love for both girls at that moment he thought it would surely burst.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Gatewater Hotel Lobby_  
March 24, 2018, 8:00 PM

As it turned out, in spite of Phoenix’s offer to bring Pearl along with them to the suite the following evening, Gumshoe, who’d had to take Maya’s statement for the formal police records earlier that afternoon regarding the whole kidnapping ordeal, offered to babysit Little Missy for the night.

It was his way of conveying his thanks to Phoenix for his dinner generosity, which had saved him from getting dish panned hands!

Pearl had been delighted to spend the evening at the flat of the Scruffy Detective, who would be joined by his _new friend_ , Maggey Byrde, who was babysitting her little out of town nephew for her sister that weekend anyway. Maya’s sole stipulations were that she forbade Gumshoe from getting behind the wheel of the car that weekend as he was still recovering from his head injury. And secondly, her little girl was only to be in the vehicle if _Maggey_ was driving! The detective had blushingly agreed, fully aware of how his recent collision with a telephone pole had made the normally easy-going spirit medium weary of his motor skills!

Phoenix was just finishing checking them into the suite at the front desk, which had been reserved under Mr. Nick when suddenly his cell rang. Juggling the room keys and his overnight bag with one hand, he hastily clapped the phone to his head with his free one, without checking to see who the caller was.

“Phoenix Wright speaking…”

“Hi, Mr. Nick! I just wanted to tell you and Mystic Maya to enjoy your special room of love tonight!”

 _Pearls_. He closed his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. _What am I going to do with you?_

Luckily, Maya saved him the trouble of having to reply to such an embarrassing statement.

“Pearly, don’t you dare start on that again!” Her voice was uncharacteristically stern. “You know that you’ve been very naughty, going behind Nick’s back and squandering such a huge amount of money like that without his permission!”

“I’m sorry Mystic Maya,” Pearl replied in a small voice. “I just wanted to do something nice for you after what you’ve been through, and do something that would make Mr. Nick happy too, because he’s been so sad without you when that bad man took you away…”

The psychic felt all her ire draining out of her then. How could she possibly stay angry at this innocent child, who lived and breathed for her happiness? And it just so happened that her time away had made her realize that her cousin’s fantasies _did_ hold validation.

Maya _did_ love Phoenix.

 _But a girl loving a guy doth_ ** _not_** _a couple make!_ She silently screamed in frustration, wishing Pearl would understand that. _It takes_ ** _two_** _to tango, kiddo! And as far as I know, I’m dancing with_ ** _myself_** _ **!**_

“Pearly, next time you want to do something nice, buy Nick a new coffeemaker or buy me _The Pink Princess_ collector’s edition merchandise!” The diviner said at last, in a gentler tone. “You know it’s a fluke that Nick wound up getting the money to pay for all this, right? And that it doesn’t grow on trees?”

“But money is made from paper,” the little girl sounded confused. “And paper comes from trees, so how does that work, Mystic Maya?”

The spirit medium emitted a silent moan. As much as she loved her cousin like her own daughter at this point, there were also times, like this one, where she could just as easily have cheerfully _throttled_ her!

Seeing her disgruntled expression, Phoenix hastily grabbed the phone back before the spirit medium exploded.

“We’re going to go now, Pearls,” he said quickly. “Be a good little girl for Ms. Byrde and Detective Gumshoe, OK? And play nice with little Joshua too!”

“I will, Mr. Nick! Josh is pretty cool, even though he’s a boy! He taught me how to make a homemade slingshot and he told me when it’s wintertime in Colorado, he can write his name in the snow!”

Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose.

 _I_ ** _don’t_** _want to know…_

“We’ll see you tomorrow morning Pearls!” Ringing off, he turned to Maya and extended his arm to her. “Shall we go to our room?”

* * *

 **_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
Gatewater Honeymoon Suite  
March 24, 2018, 8:05 PM

"Woooooooooooooow!" Maya whistled appreciatively as they entered the luxurious room and dropped their bags by the door.

Phoenix’s jaw dropped as he took in their surroundings. The enormous suite was about three times the size of his apartment and office space combined!

“So this is how the other half lives,” Maya breathed as she walked around the place. “If rich people spend a single night in a room like this just imagine how they must live every day!"

The sky-lit grand entrance led to a library, attached to a majestic living room, with a comfortable sitting area. It had plush carpeting so deep, your toes disappeared, along with deluxe furnishings in beige and burgundy tones. It also boasted an 80- inch flat screen (the largest either of them had ever see!) and Crestron technology for remote-controlled media, sound system, lighting, and curtains – all state-of-the-art media equipment. Next to this was an intimate dining room, which had an elegant ebony table and a dramatic, boat-shaped crystal chandelier. A Granite-countertop kitchenette area, with a fully stocked bar fridge, was adjacent to the eating area. The master bedroom featured motorized drapery, a stunning colossal California King bed, topped with sumptuous Italian linens, as well as a 42-inch″ plasma television, espresso machine, and a cocktail shaker, just in case they wanted to mix their own cocktails, as well as his and hers walk-in closets. Both connected to the spectacular marble bathroom, complete with a high-tech toilet and climate steam shower for two, along with a deep soaking tub, mirrors with integrated, custom-designed televisions in the master suite, high-tech toilet with a bidet.

It was definitely a room with a view - shuttered doors open to the recently renovated over 2000 square foot terrace, furnished for outdoor living and dining, and featuring 270-degree views of Rodeo Drive and the Hollywood Hills.

The pièce de résistance was the fresh rose petals that were scattered throughout the rooms, along with was a huge silver ice bucket with complimentary sparkling wine and chocolate-covered strawberries on the coffee table.

“I guess this means I get to pretend I’m Edgeworth for the night,” Phoenix joked. “One night of blissful fantasy, then back to humbling reality tomorrow, where I can be _painfully_ reminded of how poor I am!”

“Come on, it was hardly chump change that Global studios gave you!”

“Yes, but it won’t last forever, especially not with _you_ around to make me spend it on burgers and toys!”

“Bah! Stop being such a sour puss and enjoy this night of living the high life with me, Old Man!” Maya laughingly responded, barging into the living room and standing in the middle of it. She spun in a circle, giddily taking everything in, then began to spin faster and faster, like a pirouetting ballerina, nearly making him dizzy just observing.

Phoenix watched as this tiny dancer of a girl whirled around like poetry in motion, admiring the way her glossy raven hair flew outwards from her body. Everything about her was sleek and graceful. With her yukata shawl removed, he was free to gaze upon the enchanting form which the bulky outfit normally obscured; could see the full length of her slim arms as they tapered up to her narrow shoulders and followed a path down from her slender body to her smooth legs. While she wasn't a buxom beauty like her sister had been, instead she was graced with a more subtle, gentler attractiveness, one you truly had to take the time to see to appreciate.

And appreciate he did. He couldn't stop staring at her. He was afraid that if he did, he might lose her again, and that terrified Phoenix more than anything else.

But despite the mess of a trial Engarde trial they'd been involved in, Maya was back to being her usual self. Except something was off – it was like she was trying a little too hard to act like everything was normal, and it was almost as if she was not only trying to convince Phoenix that she was OK, but _herself_ as well. It was unnerving. As he watched her flittering about the hotel room, he fought the urge to tell her, "It's okay to cry sometimes. You don’t always have to be the clown who makes sure everyone else is smiling.”

Maya wasn't the only one trying to recover, though. A lack of sleep and huge amounts of stress from the whole Engarde disaster were starting to catch up with him and he'd been plagued with nightmares, including the night before, where he’d dreamed he’d been experiencing the whole thing all over again, except he couldn't save her this time.

_I've missed you so much._

Phoenix mentally slapped himself. He wanted to ensure everything would be perfectly normal and platonic, but all of a sudden a thought like that would pop into his mind, which he knew could make things weird, and he'd stifle his sudden urges to hold her close. He certainly didn’t want to make things awkward between them while he came to terms with his newly discovered feelings, and was going to do his best not to act on them and ruin this amazing friendship. Every time he looked at her, he couldn't look away, and then she'd tease him for spacing out like that, and the lawyer would laugh and apologize, a blush spreading into his cheeks for an entirely different reason than Maya thought.

“So, what do you want to do?” He asked at last.

“Well we’re in the _honeymoon_ suite…” she grinned mischievously. “So we ought to be doing _honeymoon_ stuff!”

His jaw dropped again. 

_"_ _Wh-what?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beatles - In My Life


	87. You Make Me Wanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This will be the final Phaya flashback for a while. I've been splitting chapters up due to length, otherwise, it would have been done a while back...the final JFA case was loooong! Back to the future - er, present tense, next chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Three words with eight letters, "I LOVE YOU," can make you give away everything you own in life."

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Gatewater Honeymoon Suite_  
March 24, 2018, 8:05 PM

"I-I didn't mean _that_ honeymoon stuff!" Maya insisted with cheeks both puffed from annoyance and red from embarrassment. _"Sheesh!_ Get your head out of the gutter, Old Man! I mean this hotel has to have like a pool or something awesome we can't do at home."

Her dark eyes lit up as they fixed on the bucket of champagne on the coffee table then.

"Oooh! I know! Let's grab this bottle of bubbly and enjoy it someplace with fresh air and a great view! Like … the roof of this place!"

"Even _if_ I overlook the request for the sparkling wine and _don't_ remind you that _you still aren't_ _legally_ old enough to drink…" the lawyer began, only to be cut off with a fierce scowl in his direction.

"Come off it, you Old Fart!" She huffed. "This is supposed to be my _honeymoon_ for Pete's sake!"

Phoenix wasn't about to touch _that_ one with a ten-foot pole!

"OK fine, even if I indulge you and let your underage self partake in some bubbly this once, Maya, we're _already_ _on the_ _14_ _th_ floor," he reminded her. "And I don't think there's much fresh air to be had in L.A. We could always just use the balcony and the view in our room."

Truthfully, even _that_ would be pushing it for him…but at least it was a semi-enclosed place, and he'd be all right on the terrace as long as he didn't look down. His assistant had conveniently forgotten his fear of heights.

"But that's so _boring_ _!"_ The diviner puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms. "I want to _live_ a little, you know?"

"And your only way of experiencing the _joie de vivre_ is going atop of the roof of this hotel, where am assuming it will be _illegal_ to go?" He was beyond exasperated. " Hell's teeth! Why would you want to go to the roof, anyway?"

"Oh gee, could it be because I've been cooped and locked away like a criminal in a dank, musty cellar these past few days?" She puffed out her cheeks. "All I wanted was just some fresh air and open sky…but you're right, it's probably a lame thing to do anyway…"

Phoenix looked at her sympathetically. As brutal as the entire case had been on him, he could not even fathom what it had been like for her.

"OK, you win. We can go to the roof," he conceded, wondering how he always let her talk him into these things.

"That's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!" Maya bounced up and down with excitement. "You're the _best_ , Nick! It'll be _so_ great! And don't worry about getting busted…what are they going to do, _ban_ us from ever returning to this _shi-shi, frou-frou_ hotel we can't afford, anyway?"

"Fair enough. However, if I'm going to be _that_ high off the ground, I'm going to need some Dutch courage first! Let's crack open that bottle _now!"_

20 minutes later, each with about three glasses of champagne and about a half dozen chocolate covered strawberries under their belts, a slightly _buzzed out_ _and_ _sugar-shocked_ pair were at the 30th level stairwell, which was the very top stairway of the hotel. Both stared in dismay at the six-foot-high barred metal gate, which blocked the last flight of stairs leading to the roof.

The gate was locked, but that didn't stop Phoenix's determined spider-monkey assistant. With a boost from her reluctant partner in crime, she deftly hoisted herself up, climbed over the iron gate with surprising ninja-stealth, jumped down, and unlocked it from the inside, thus allowing a grudgingly impressed Phoenix to walk through it with comparable ease.

Not even bothering to wait for him to catch up, Maya eagerly dashed up the last flight of stairs leading to the rooftop entrance.

As Maya flung the door open, she flinched slightly at the burst of wind that hit her, but quickly overcame it and stepped out into the open. She stood in place, her gaze roaming upwards and a feeling of wonderment overtaking her.

"Holy cow! It's gorgeous up here! Check out this view, Nick! I'm on top of the world!"

Phoenix shook his head as he stepped outside, still astounded by her covetable energy, while briefly contemplating if the kidnapping had even _fazed_ her at _all_.

_Well skullfuck a duck and call me Felix!_ _All it took to have her forget all about the traumatic events that will forever plague my days was a mere trip to the top of a hotel? I don't get it. After all, it's just a_ _roof_ _…what's the big deal?_

In the next instant, however, as all lucid thoughts left his mind, the spiky-haired man completely understood his assistant's desire to come up there. His tongue lay uselessly in his mouth as he encountered a scene straight out of a Hollywood film before him.

There, silhouetted against a canvas of the night sky with a full moon as the backdrop, robes, and hair billowing gently in the breeze and soft light outlining her shape, stood Maya, face tilted up to the breeze, a look of enchantment on her face. As though sensing his presence next to her, she tilted her head towards him, eyes still blissfully closed and beamed a beatific smile in his direction.

She was the most breathtaking sight he'd ever seen in his life.

Studying the pale moonlight on her visage, and realizing just how much he had missed that face the past few days, Phoenix was glad he'd braved his acrophobia. He'd never been good with heights, so it was rather odd how fine he was here on this roof. He wasn't feeling dizzy at all. Perhaps his inability to see the ground bolstered his bravery. It had been worth the risk if it meant seeing that smile of hers. That beatific smile … that was what he'd been was fighting for the whole time.

* * *

_**I often fantasize the stars above are watching you. They know my heart, it speaks to yours like only lovers do.** _

* * *

He cast his gaze up with hers realized that he had never before seen the stars so clearly and brightly across the deep ebony feathers of night.

_The twinkling of the stars is enchanting; they blink and flicker away, and yet always return like rogues hiding away in the shadows. Yet, no matter what planet, what galaxy, or what universe any small creature may be on, those fiery lights streaking across the skies in diffusing blue streaks will always be there._

And so would he. He wanted to be _wherever_ Maya Fey was from this day on, and never be separated from her again.

* * *

_**If I could wear your clothes I'd pretend I was you and lose control.** _

* * *

Maya shivered slightly in the night chill, so Phoenix took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders but she surprised him by still stepping back to lean against his chest, nuzzling into his warmth. He sank to the roof and placed his hands behind him to support the both of them as they just continued observing the sky, simply enjoying the moment, forgetting about the nerve-wracking, gut-wrenching moments of the trial from hell. Right now, there was nothing around him. Even the buzz of the city several stories below was muted, allowing to bask in the calm of the night, a cool breeze, and a happy, very alive young woman contentedly seated in front of him.

Maya spoke finally, breaking the stillness.

"This is nice."

* * *

_**What's it gonna be, 'cuz I can't pretend.** _

* * *

"It is," he agreed. "Thanks for getting me to come up here." Without thinking, he leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Maya stiffened then, and Phoenix suddenly felt like an idiot for breaking their contented moment with his thoughtless arduous act. He belatedly wondered if it would make things better or worse if he blamed the champagne for his behavior.

Rising to her feet, she stared down at him, although her expression was unreadable in the shadows of the rooftop.

"Wh- what was that for?" She asked. He was relieved to note she didn't sound angry – just genuinely confused.

* * *

_**Don't you want to be more than friends?** _

* * *

"I'm not sure. I guess that was just my way of reminding myself you're still here." Phoenix got up too, keeping his gaze fixed on hers the entire time. "After nearly losing you twice in less than a year, maybe it finally hit home that I can't take you for granted. But if that made you uncomfortable in any way, or if I overstepped my boundaries, Maya, I'm sorry."

* * *

_**I often tell myself that we could be more than just friends.** _

* * *

"Nooo… _please, d_ on't be!" She whispered then, sounding almost teary all of a sudden.

_Holy mood swings, Batman! I am blaming_ **_hers_ ** _on the champagne!_

"I just – I'm the one who's sorry, Nick. I'm such a burden to you. I wish you didn't keep having to play hero and keep rescuing me…"

"Don't be silly," he insisted. "None of anything that's happened has been your fault."

"Because of me, you lost your first case though," she stated miserably.

"None of that other stuff matters to me! You should know that by now." He shook his head. "I only cared about _you_ , Maya. _Your_ safety. My blemished record is a small price to pay if that's what it took to bring my best friend back to me."

* * *

_**I know you think that if we move too soon it would all end.** _

* * *

She sniffled slightly, then looked up at him through her lashes. "You really mean that?"

_You're the best friend that I ever had. I've been with you such a long time. You're my sunshine, and I want you to know that my feelings are true. I really love you._

But of course, he could never have the guts to say this aloud. He hadn't had _that_ much to drink!

"I really do." He cleared his throat. "I couldn't ask for a better partner or a better friend if my life depended on it."

She laughed then and lurched herself at him in a full-on, body lock hug.

"You're the most adorkable guy in the world, Phoenix Wright!" She looked up at him fondly. "But that's alright because you're pretty much the _best_ guy in the universe. You know that?"

"You're just saying that because it's true!" He joked, returning the hug. "Although I have no plans to change my business cards to _Phoenix Wright, A Dork At Law_. It might make people look at me funny."

"Nah, not if they _know_ you!" The psychic tittered, then clutched his jacket more tightly around her and shuddered as cold breeze washed over them. "Let's go back to the room, you old fart! I'm freezing! And I know that chill up here can't be good for _your_ old, brittle bones either!"

Phoenix shook his head at her but was grinning as he raced her to the stairs.

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Gatewater Honeymoon Suite_  
March 24, 2018, 10:35 PM

A couple of hours– as well as about a dozen emptied mini-bottles from the fridge later – the now _very_ tipsy duo were zoned out in front of the ginormous television set in the living room. Two empty trays from the room service they'd ordered for dinner cluttered the coffee table, along with several emptied snack containers from the minibar as well.

Phoenix figured he had to be at least _somewhat_ inebriated at this point since he was _completely_ unfazed by the fact that the _nosebleed prices_ from the minibar's consumed goods would result in his final hotel bill being _even more sky-high_ than the rooftop had been!

_Oh well..._

The other reason he was glad that he was _buzzed out at nearly maximum capacity_ was there was _no other feasible way_ he could have withstood watching _Steel Samurai_ reruns, even on an impressive 80-inch plasma, while on his _honeymoon_ , otherwise!

Phoenix sighed as Maya flopped down back on the plush sofa from her umpteenth trip to the bathroom – she'd long since 'broken the seal' and had made at least three trips in the last hour alone! The defense attorney watched her reach for the remote and eagerly start flipping through TV channels while finding himself yet again questioning her completely unchanged demeanor from the kidnapping whole ordeal. He should have been grateful that she'd gone back to her normal, cheery self, so surprisingly quickly…but still, something wasn't right. He was _sure_ of it.

"Boring… old… boring… hey, it's a _Pink Princess_ rerun!"

It was an episode Maya had taped, and she'd had him sit through it several times in the past. Phoenix sighed even more deeply.

Halfway through viewing the episode, or at least, _he_ watched _Maya_ watch it – she knew this one so well she could actually recite the dialogue along with the on-screen actors – Phoenix had to admit that this time, he wasn't paying attention. His mind was elsewhere.

_I love you_ , he wanted to say. _I was_ ** _losing my mind_** _without you – and it's driving me crazy that_ ** _you_** _seem so unfazed by this all! Either you're heartless…or hiding something! I don't know which is a worse possibility!_

But of course, he didn't say anything of the sort. Apparently, he hadn't loosened up enough from the alcohol to be _that_ brave! However – and he was going to blame the booze for this second act of inhibition since the roof – he couldn't stop from reaching over and brushing Maya's bangs out of her eyes before he realized what he was doing. It didn't take long for him to process what had happened when Maya's expression became as flustered as it'd been when he'd kissed her on the rooftop. She jerked her head in his direction, eyes wide and questioning.

Cursing himself, he quickly withdrew his hand as though he'd been scorched.

_Stop touching her, Phoenix! Can't you see it makes her get all awkward and uncomfortable?!_

A tense silence arose between the pair, and he immediately regretted the action.

"I apologize – um, sorry." His face felt hot. "I just...I missed you."

* * *

_**I live in misery when you're not around.** _

* * *

A heavy silence followed, and he was uncertain what to say or do next to ease the awkwardness he'd unwittingly created.

"Don't worry about it!" Maya replied brightly, avoiding his eyes and turning back to the show. "My bangs are getting way too long, and I look like a sheepdog! I _so_ need to trim them! Thanks for looking out for me, Nick!"

Phoenix glanced at Maya out of the corner of his eye. Even though she was acting the same as she always did, and he knew he should be thankful for the reprieve he'd just gotten, he was having a bit of difficulty _believing_ it.

He'd only managed to prolong the trial and rescue her by the skin of his teeth, with the assistance of Edgeworth and Franziska's perfect timing, and had gone through mental stress- _complete and utter hell -_ beyond contemplation...And on the flip side, there was _Maya_ , happily tipsy and giggling at children's shows as though nothing had happened! This was yet another strain in itself on his psyche. He was going to lose his mind if he stayed silent about this another minute.

* * *

_**And I won't be satisfied till we're taking those vows.** _

* * *

Not caring that she'd be annoyed by the action, without warning, Phoenix hit the power button on the remote and turned the TV off.

" _Nick_ _!"_ Maya shrieked as though he'd set her hair on fire. "What gives?!"

"I can't take it anymore!" Phoenix cried, running a flustered hand through his spikes. "You and me, we need to talk."

"Sounds like a breakup speech," she joked. "I'd be worried if we were actually dating! Luckily, we aren't, except in Pearly's imagination!" She lightly nudged him in the ribs to punctuate the quip, but then the smile died on her face when he continued to regard her with a somber expression.

Phoenix caught the bewilderment in her eyes and sighed inwardly. This was going to be harder than he'd thought, and apparently, Maya did not intend to make things any easier.

"I'm worried about you Maya. I feel like you're not leveling with me since…this all happened. Are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"Yes, _grandpa_ , for the 100th time, I'm _fine_ , so stop worrying about me!" Maya grinned and gave him a playful punch in the arm. "I mean, I may have some gut rot in the morning from mixing that tequila with the rum shots earlier but...that that don't kill me, can only make me stronger, right?"

"That's not what I meant!" Phoenix was fully agitated now, and it was evident in his sharp tone. Maya looked at him with the expression of a wounded puppy, which only made him even more aggravated. "I meant _you_ – not your stomach – _you_ , Maya. Are you sure you're totally fine?"

"Of course I'm fine! What answer are you looking for here, Nick? You think I have some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder from being abducted and need to see a shrink or something?" Maya exclaimed, words slightly slurred. Her eyes looked slightly dazed, although it wasn't clear if it was from the copious amount of alcohol consumed, fatigue, or the unexpected turn of conversation.

" _Goddammit,_ Maya!" The easygoing attorney finally erupted like a volcano. "During that trial, this whole ordeal…I fucking went through _in seven bloody hells!_ I was willing to throw _my morals, my ethics, my values_ out the window and let a madman go free if it meant that you would live! At one point…I wasn't even sure if you were still alright or not…until I found your letter. So then, I was able to persevere, because as long as I knew you were okay, I knew I could keep fighting."

He buried his head in his hands then.

"I thought I'd have to choose between justice and obeying your last wishes…that I'd have to play _God_ with your life until Franziska arrived with the evidence that allowed me to save you and ensure justice was served for Engarde at the eleventh hour."

"I had no idea, Nick," Maya stared at him, lower lip quivering. "I'm so sorry…you must think I'm some heartless, unfeeling jerk…"

"No, don't be _sorry_! I'd do it all again in a heartbeat! Because you mean _that_ much to me!" He cried, his voice heavy with emotion. "I was so _lost_ without you… _missing_ you… _worrying_ about you…and now it's just…here's _you_ , acting all carefree and merry and dandy, as though nothing happened at all!"

* * *

_**What's it gonna be 'cause I can't pretend?** _

* * *

He saw Maya's eyes well up slightly and hated himself for having upset her, but there was a reason booze was labeled as truth serum, after all - he'd been unable to hold back the tide any longer.

"Nick, I am so sorry you had to endure all that because of me." Maya's eyes were on her lap, where her palms were clenching and unclenching into fists. She bit her lip. "The _only_ way I got through being locked up in that dark room, was because of my _unshakable faith in you_. I just knew that in the end, you'd save me, like you always have. B-because you're my hero…" She raised a hand to her quivering lips then and stopped, unable to go on.

Phoenix let out a long breath. As horrible as it sounded, he'd _needed_ to hear this from her – to know she wasn't acting glib out of complete indifference. Feeling about her the way he did, that would have _killed_ him.

* * *

_**Don't you wanna be more than friends?** _

* * *

Now that he knew he wasn't in love with a heartless, unfeeling automaton, he would just turn her brain-numbing show back on and they could go back to –

Suddenly, Phoenix felt Maya's shoulders shaking against him.

"M-Maya?" He looked at her hunched over form with alarm.

Phoenix put his hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him, astounded by the sight of the tears he'd noticed earlier forming in her eyes and silently rolling down her cheeks. She didn't cry very often, and he felt terrible that she was now because it was his fault.

"Oh, Nick!" Maya wailed then and suddenly flung her arms around his neck.

He sat there, stunned, uncertain of how to react.

"I missed you too, Nick. I missed you so much!" Her voice broke.

Hesitantly, he returned the embrace, enveloping her in his arms, tightening his hold. He buried his head in her shoulder, inhaling her sweet vanilla scent. He'd ached to hold her like this when she was first returned safely, but he'd held back. It was never the right time, or there was an audience, or it would have given little Pearl more ammo for her whole Special Someone's beliefs…Although, considering how he felt about Maya now, the little girl wasn't so far off!

* * *

_**Hold me tight and don't let go.** _

* * *

Maya burst into tears and wrapped her arms more tightly around Phoenix's neck, crying into the stiff shoulder of his suit. Stunned, Phoenix slowly pulled Maya closer to him and hugged her awkwardly, not entirely sure how to comfort her but eventually figuring that silence would be the best company.

* * *

_**You have the right to lose control**_.

* * *

"It's all an act, Nick," Maya mumbled into his chest. "I've been trying so hard to put it behind me, and stay strong…for you, for Pearly…but all I did was make you think I didn't care! It's not true! Please, _please_ forgive me!"

* * *

_**Don't let go.** _

* * *

"For what?" he cupped her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "There's nothing to apologize for."

* * *

_**You gotta make the sacrifice.** _

* * *

"I was...I was so terrified," she wept, looking at him with liquid chocolate brown eyes. "I scared I was going to die. I was afraid that I wasn't going to see you or Pearly ever again. That was all I could think about when I was in that wine cellar…never seeing your faces again…" she dissolved into a fresh bout of tears.

* * *

_**Somebody's gotta choose.** _

* * *

"It's all right." He drew back so he could peer into that ethereal, tear-stained visage. "It's all over, Maya. You're here with me now. And you're safe." He pulled her tightly against his chest as she buried her head in his neck while she cried. He stroked her satiny hair. "I'm… I'm just glad you're safe."

* * *

_**We can make it if we try.** _

* * *

Just as she had done with Pearl the night before, Phoenix rocked her back and forth in his arms while soothingly rubbing her back. After a few moments, Maya's tears were reduced to quiet sniffles.

"Alcohol…bringing out the truth in its consumers since the beginning of mankind," he laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. "There's a reason I barely drink. And I'm not letting _you_ again, either, Miss Fey. At least, not for another _year_ , when it'll be _legal_ then!"

Not a sound from the girl as he cradled her tiny form against his.

* * *

_**For the sake of you and I.** _

* * *

"I'm glad you finally opened up with me. Sometimes, even clowns take off the mask, Maya. You don't always have to put on a brave or funny face around me. Maybe with strangers, but not with _me_."

She'd stopped crying entirely, so Phoenix kept talking as she listened in captive silence.

* * *

_**Together we can make it right.** _

* * *

"You and me, Maya, it's hard to believe there was a time that _we_ ever were strangers. But _were_ we ever, really? I'm not too sure. I recall the day our bond was forged. It was like being let into the warmth after a lifetime of winter. That day I first saw you there was something even then, though I didn't know _what_ it was at the time," he mused aloud, absently running his fingertips in small circles on her back. "However, it was some sort of _connection_ ; granted, under the _worst circumstances possible_! Yet I still felt this… _affinity_ with you, even though I wasn't able to put it into words. I wonder if you ever felt like that too."

Maya was breathing softly and steadily against him now, still not responding, but Phoenix was barely mindful of that as he went on in his hazy liquored monologue.

"I wonder if there's an element of time that allows us to feel such emotions, like an orange glow bursting over a dark horizon. From the darkness of losing Mia…I forged this bond with you, and it brightened up my world. I hope it was the same for you too. It was like this warm, comforting light."

He rested his chin atop her head as he mulled this over.

"This light…it's like it was for our eyes only, something to carry us through this life. It was the dawn of the person I am today, the person I was destined to be. If that's being your hero, so be it. If it's being a good lawyer and an even better man, then so much the better. If I had to do it all again, Maya, I wouldn't do a damn thing differently. That means I would defend you with my life even if the odds were insurmountable. I would do anything to keep you safe. I would give up anything in the world for you. Because you're worth it. Even though at times I've had to work hard to keep you comfortable and secure, in the end, I'd rather be poor in money than ever risk losing you."

Phoenix took a deep breath before speaking his next words. He uttered them as quickly as he could before he lost his nerve.

"You are the greatest treasure of my life, Maya Fey. The one, the only one."

There was no answer. Time stretched on and there still was no response from Maya. Phoenix felt a tad apprehensive with the uncustomary silence from the normally overly talkative girl. How stupid could he have been to ruin the whole evening, maybe even their whole friendship like that? He'd said too much. She was clearly unsure of how to respond to his impromptu declaration of affection, and he was certain he'd overwhelmed her.

Biting back a curse, he drew back slightly to study her expression, wondering what her reaction would be to his speech, and his eyes widened in surprise.

It looked like the champagne and liquor had taken their toll. Maya's head was buried against his chest and she was fast asleep – or more than likely – _passed out!_

Phoenix shouldn't have been stunned– after all, these last few nightmarish days, _he'd_ barely gotten any sleep, so he should have expected this. As her head lolled on his shoulder, her eyelids tightly closed, the rest of her body slowly leaned into him, completely limp. He studied her sleeping form with a tender smile. She was quite cute in her sleep, he noticed. Her long hair was devoid of its usual ornaments and loosely scattered behind her, and the gentle snuffles and rhythmic rise and fall of her chest were oddly soothing to him, even though he knew that if she was in such deep slumber, more than likely, she hadn't heard a _word_ he'd said!

He blinked as that realization sank in, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved that his innermost feelings were still his own secret. Well, for _now_ , anyway. More than likely, they'd remain that way, as long as he _never_ consumed _another drop_ of 'truth serum' in the presence of Maya Fey _ever_ again!

With a sigh of resignation, he carefully hooked his arms underneath her knees, scooped up her slight form in his arms, and headed to the bedroom, where he stared at the mammoth bed in contemplation.

Well, getting the two of them on that colossal thing certainly wouldn't cause any awkward or accidental brushing or contact in the middle of the night! He observed with amusement. The mattress was about the size of a _football field_ _– the_ _entire_ _Raiders_ team could fit on it without ever once being in want of space, never mind an average-sized lawyer and a pocket-sized spirit medium!

He gently placed Maya onto the bed, lifting the bottom of the covers up and over, tucking them securely around her until she looked as snug as a bug in a rug before carefully adjusting the pillow underneath her head.

She didn't even budge once.

Phoenix brushed a strand of hair off her face, looking down at her peaceful form with a soft smile on his lips.

_Love. When your heart melts like butter on hot toast at the sight of someone. When you feel lightheaded and free. When you ache to be with them, to look at them, to touch them. That is love._

Phoenix reached into his pocket and opened up the jeweler's box holding the locket, admiring how the shiny metal gleamed in his hand as his fingers traced over the engraved words on the back as he looked at her. He'd hoped he'd have the opportunity to give this to her tonight, but alas, it just wasn't meant to be.

He leaned over and lightly pressed his lips against her soft cheek.

"Someday, when this time is right, I hope I'll have the courage to say these words aloud to you when you can hear them," he whispered. "But for now, I'll just be content to have you in my sights, where I know you're safe. I love you, Maya Fey. Sweet dreams."

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
Gatewater Honeymoon Suite  
March 25, 2018, 1:30 AM

_"_ _I love you,_ _Maya Fey."_

The brunette sighed contently at the warming sensation creeping over her as his strong arms wrapped around her waist and she tilted her lips up to meet his. What a wonderful sound, hearing Nick say those words she'd been longing to hear for so long. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, having him love her. His mouth came closer and closer, and she could feel his warm breath on her face as she leaned in.

_"_ _I love you, Phoenix Wright."_

At least, that's what she _wanted_ to say. However, she couldn't _make_ herself say it! Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, as though _glued_ in place, and her throat felt _parched_!

_What the hell?!_

As Maya reluctantly felt herself awakening, her mind swam with intense images of that _glorious_ dream. She groaned, reluctant to banish it and rise from the bed.

_Huh? Bed? I don't remember coming here…_

The light of the full moon shone into her slowly opening eyes from an open crack in the thick bedroom drapes, and she brought her hands up to guard them. Everything about her felt heavy, from her arms to her feet. She let her head loll from one side to the other, eyes closing one more time as she enjoyed the brief darkness. How she yearned to sleep on, conjure that _wonderful, vivid_ dream anew!

However, nature was calling and her parched throat, which demanded that she fetch a drink of water ...was all too _real_.

_Crap on a cracker_ _! It'd_ _all_ _been a_ _dream_ _!_

The reality sunk in. That meant there had been no kiss or love declaration from Phoenix after all!

_Man, reality bites the big one! And, as my lousy luck would have it, I can't even kiss Nick in my_ _slumbering fantasies_ _, for crying out loud!_ Maya groaned as she rolled over onto her back. _Instead, I get C-blocked by my own overactive bladder, stemmed from_ _overdoing_ _the sauce last night, no doubt! Just… kick you in the crotch,_

She turned her head to the side and saw Phoenix snoring softly on the other side of the bed - the same one she couldn't recall getting into! The last thing she remembered was crying for his forgiveness, and then him holding her in his arms and stroking her hair.

How she loved when he'd play with her hair, even briefly...

And the _next_ thing she knew, she'd awoken on this huge hotel bed, next to her best friend, with a head that felt like it was stuffed with popcorn. Dammit, it was still _night_! Wasn't it too _early_ to be _hungover_?!

The necromancer turned her head towards the window where the small sliver of moonlight was streaming in and winced at the contrasting glare against the dim room.

_Yup, I'm already in the makings of a wicked hangover! Classic! I spent my night in the romantic honeymoon suite with Nick getting shit-faced and watching Steel Samurai videos, and at some point, I dissolved into a hysterical weepy mess and drunkenly passed out, prompting him to carry my sorry ass to bed. How romantic – NOT!_

Maya moaned in mortification and clapped a hand to her head.

At least she had the chance to take advantage of one rare opportunity though. Scooting across the bed so she was a little closer to him, the spirit medium propped herself up on one elbow and allowed herself the indulgence of finally seeing her friend in his sleep.

In slumber, without the complex workings of his conscious mind, he looked so vulnerable and childlike, almost cherubic, with his long, sooty lashes nearly brushing his cheeks. Maya couldn't help but feel envious. She couldn't achieve lashes like his even if she caked on a whole tube of mascara!

Phoenix's breaths were even and calming, the expression on his face was no longer stressed but relaxed. A lock of hair had fallen forward across his forehead, simultaneously making him look younger, and like an adorkable Superman. Her fingers itched to brush it away, as he'd done with her bangs last night…the gesture so sweet and natural…until she'd ruined the moment with her awkward _stupidness_ , as usual!

"I know you looked after me last night, so that's yet another thing to thank you for," she whispered to the sleeping lawyer. "You're _always_ taking care of me. I-I don't know what I'd do without you. I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you in my life. You and me…even though I make fun of you for being a big dork and you call me The Burger Queen…somehow we just _work_ , you know? Like we _belong_ together. At least that's how it was in the dream I just had. I was so sad when I woke up and realized that the Nick and Maya from my dream weren't actual reality."

A tear rolled down her cheek inexplicably then, and she brushed it away impatiently.

"There were a few times last night where it seemed like _you_ felt that way too…and that _you and me_ …it could be more than just a thing in my dreams. I wanted that so much! Nevertheless, we'd both been drinking…and I have no experience with guys, Nick. And I just couldn't trust my judgement to tell back then what was _real_ , and what _wasn't_. Were you looking at me differently last night, and touching me more than usual, because of _me_ , or was it beer goggles talking? I couldn't tell the difference."

Maya bit her lip and gave in to the urge to gently brush Phoenix's stray bang off his forehead. Luckily, he was in such deep sleep, he didn't even stir.

"I _really_ wanted it to be the former…but what if I'd allowed something to happen and you didn't remember it in the morning? Or worse, _regretted_ it? Then what would I do? I'd _lose_ you. And I _can't_ have that Nick! Since Sis died, you're all I've got. I _need_ you. My - _My life would suck without you_!"

With a heavy sigh, she gave up on her last ounce of courage as she stared longingly at the handsome sleeping man next to her, noting how peaceful he was under the blanket of shadows. The bedside digital clock told her it was half-past one.

Whatever magic had potentially been there a few hours ago was long gone. She'd missed her only chance.

In the morning, he'd have forgotten all about the romantic rooftop moments and how they'd had a small window of _almost_ opportunities the night before. The splinters and cracks that had formed in their impenetrable wall of friendship would be resealed, and they'd resume their comfortable friendly regime as usual.

It was just as well. She knew he'd never feel the same way about her; even remotely come close to the way she'd been feeling since she'd first met him. For her, Phoenix Wright was just meant to remain her teenage dream.

Except now, she was almost twenty and she loved him even more now than she had then.

"Last night, I dreamt you told me you loved me." Maya swallowed against the lump in her throat. "But I couldn't say it back for some reason! Not even in my _dream_ …even though me loving you is very much a _reality_. When I was kidnapped by De Killer, my biggest fear was never getting the chance to tell you how I felt about you...so I'm going to tell you _now_."

She took a deep breath.

"I love you, Phoenix Wright. Each day, I keep falling in love with you more and more, and each time is harder than the last to not just blurt out and tell you. Every time I'm with you, the feeling gets deeper, more complete, more bewitching. There isn't a thing I wouldn't do for you. Don't ever think you have to ask for my affection because you don't, and you never did. The more love I give you the more I have bursting inside of me... crazy, huh?"

She placed her fingers to her lips and, giving them a kiss, softly placed those fingertips against the slumbering attorney's lips.

His eyelids fluttered briefly, but he seemed too out of it to notice.

Maya smiled sadly, then tiptoed to the bathroom, did what she needed to, chugged back three glasses of tap water, and then crawled back into bed, making herself comfortable and waiting for sleep to retake her.

Tomorrow would put things back to normal.

Whatever that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> En Vogue - Don't Let Go


	88. Take A Chance On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The trouble with falling in love is that it’s not a conscious thing, it’s not a decision. It’s a decision that’s made for you and it isn’t always good.”

**_Maya Fey and Mildred Latrine_** _  
_March 9, 2025, 2:22 PM

Maya never dreamed that the day would come when she would have to eat humble pie about The Dragon Lady. Yet that was exactly what it happened when she had had to contact the despised village elder with regards to her newly altered matrimonial stance, and long after Sasha had left, taking her magical transforming shears with her, the village leader sat in her room brooding while she awaited Mildew to return her phone call. 

She could only _imagine_ how the village elder would _revel_ in triumph upon discovering the Master had done a _complete_ about-face, barely a sennight after the dramatic stormy refusal in the Meeting Hall – and _moments_ after receiving a life-altering, impromptu _hairdo_ _-_ _do_ _-_ _over_! _–_ and was now meekly admitting to being _wholly_ on board with the entire matchmaking proposal and was _most_ keen on being found a suitable suitor! 

Her phone rang just then. As she lifted it her ear, the caller at the other end spoke briskly before she could even utter the first _hello_. 

“This better be a matter of utmost importance, Mystic Maya,” Mildred said crisply, without preamble. “Sister Bikini insisted it a most pressing issue, which I assume it would _have_ to be, to make you disrupt the most important task _you_ had personally assigned me to!” 

Despite the dire straits that had led to this moment, Maya couldn't resist the visible smirk resounding in her voice as she spoke. 

“How _was_ that outhouse digging?” She asked sweetly, ensuring her voice was as innocuous as possible. “Sister Bikini _did_ assure me you were going all gangbusters with this latest outhouse lot ... pray tell, just _how_ deep did you make the required holes?” 

“I dare say at _least_ _30 hands deep_ _!_ I sincerely hope that would be good enough for the esteemed Master?” The old woman snapped, obviously most displeased with the reminder of the menial, degrading chore she'd been subjected to. “Now was there a point to this phone call, or shall I save you the niceties and just flat out inquire to whether or not there's a point to this asinine conversation?”

“I can assure you, with utmost sincerity,” the Kurain head reassured dryly. “I did not call to literally _shoot the shit!”_

“I must say, Master, your sense of humor _truly_ knows no bounds,” Mildew deadpanned. “But at the risk of sounding belligerent or impudent, I have yet _again_ to enquire as to what _pleasure_ I owe this phone call?” 

The psychic took a deep breath and expelled it slowly as she gathered her wits about her. 

“I have had a change of heart, and I want you to contact your matchmaker, Mildred. I've decided that I wish to be considered for a suitor as initially recommended.” 

There was a pregnant pause on the line. 

“Well, I say… this is a most _unforeseen_ , not to mention, _unexpected_ turnabout.” The initial surprise evident in the Dragon Lady’s voice was slowly being replaced by a gloating undertone. “Might I inquire exactly _what_ brought about this sudden, if not completely _out of the blue,_ change of heart, Mystic Maya?” 

“No, you _may_ _not_ ,” Maya replied archly. “As _you_ pointed out, it is an ancient, revered tradition for the Kurain Master to marry before her third decade. This past week, I’ve had a chance to clear my mind, and am now opting to do what is best according to scared custom, which will, in the end, be best for the village.” 

“But what about your ‘friend’ Mr. Wight?” Her nemesis asked slyly, a knowing note in her tone now. “Won’t _he_ quite taken _aback_ , and not just merely _surprised_ , by this hasty turnabout?” 

“Perhaps,” the diviner returned crisply. “However, I suspect that Sister Iris can certainly help _cushion the blow_ or any sort of shock to the system, as she is the current keeper of his heart. So now that we’ve gotten _that_ out of the way, tell me, how soon can you fix me up with my first match? My only stipulation is that while I _will_ allow you to present me with suitable contenders, I _shan’t_ agree to any of them blindly. I wish to first converse and if that goes well, meet with them _myself_. Ultimately, if I _do_ happen to find one of these selections favorable, and wish to wed, it will still be a man of _my_ choosing, is that understood?” 

Yzma incarnate decided not to press her luck with a further “I told you so” even though she was inwardly cackling with exultant glee. And here she’d thought she would be forced to either indeterminably postpone, if not entirely _put the kybosh_ , on all her hard efforts and plans! She’d been wondering if she’d be forced to be resorted to further risky and improbable manipulations, which would have taken who knew how long to put into fruition, or throw in the towel…but the fates had turned the tides in her favor after all here! It was all turning turned out even _better_ than she could have hoped, with that good-for-nothing Phoenix Wright (the elder wasn’t foolish enough to think he _wasn’t_ a key factor in Maya’s abrupt 180!) doing all the hard work for her and taking coercion entirely off the table, and thus making the Master come to _her_ … _willingly_ _!_

If her brittle old bones have allowed it, the harridan would have broken into a happy dance at that moment! But she figured she would work on her jig later. Right now, she sensed outward rejoicing would rock this precarious boat, which had just been tipped in her favor, and thus would need to tread cautiously. 

“Quite understood, loud, and clear,” Mildred replied serenely, affecting her most humble and helpful tone. “I am merely going _window shopping_ for you, Mystic Maya, with a general list of what I think would make a good buy, which will be based partially on _your_ desires as well. Of course, it is _entirely_ up to you to decide if you wish to _purchase_. I shall take note of any _particular_ wants and stipulations right now, even as we speak.” 

She paused for a moment to pretend she was getting a paper and pen, then returned to the line. 

“Just so I have a general idea of your tastes, what sort of man _are_ you looking for? Are there any particular physical traits or characteristics you find favorable or unfavorable?” 

“I honestly don’t care,” Maya stated flatly. “I shall leave it to your discretion to determine what you think is best for this village in the long term.”

 _As my recent history would dictate,_ she thought bitterly _. That **my** judgment in men of my choosing is sorely lacking! Why not let Mildew do her thing? Any prospective Future Significant Other can’t possibly do any worse damage than the last one!_

The village elder was dumbfounded. She hadn’t expected it to be _quite_ this easy! Her foe was all but positively _begging_ her to deliver Longines Beaugosse on a _silver platter!_

However, she had to be careful. Much like buying a car, people didn’t tend to settle for the very first model they set their eyes on, no matter _how_ much they liked it! They tended to have an innate need to test drive _several_ different models first, as though to reassure themselves they hadn’t been impulsive, or were settling …or simply because they didn’t trust their intuitive judgment that the right model had come along first and foremost after all! 

This was the case with Maya, who was suddenly, for some reason or other, now skeptical about her personal ability in choosing the right suitor for her, and was openly admitting to it as much. If Mildred didn’t despise the other woman as much as she did, she would have been touched and flattered that the Master was humbly putting her faith and trust in her. 

Still, Mildred _supposed_ it was nice to at last be acknowledged that as a revered elder, she was indeed older _and_ wiser. At the end of the day, the inevitable conclusion was obvious that _she_ also knew what was best, for both the village leader as well as Kurain! _Any_ man would a step up from that no-goodnik disbarred lawyer, after all! What could that penniless, worthless bum have ever had to offer _any_ of them but eternal headaches, shame, and despair? He was Sister Iris’s cross to bear now. That jailbird daughter of Morgan’s had zero need to be as selective with her choice of mates, anyway, and given _her_ history, obviously knew she had to _take what she could get!_ Good riddance, truly!

Nevertheless, the elder knew she still had to at least _ease her way in_ slowly. After all, even the most successful car salesman couldn’t compel a client to buy a Ferrari if said customer had her heart set on some sort of _Japanese or German_ sedan! This wouldn’t be too difficult a feat, though. No doubt though, the village leader’s standards weren’t too high.

After all, if the disgraced Phoenix Wright could be likened to an automobile model, Maya had almost settled for a complete _lemon_ with _irreparable and liable collateral_ _damage_ and nigh no hope of reparation or increase in value _whatsoever_ _!_

“Surely…” Mildred began cautiously. “The Master must have _some_ inkling of what she could and could not tolerate? Naturally, the essentials would be a man who is at _least_ established and successful, so we know he has only eyes for you, and not the wealth and power a woman of your esteemed stature would wield?” 

“Fine. That sounds good,” Maya responded dully. “I guess the palpable basics? No mental health issues or criminal records. And a lack of drug or alcohol abuse history should be a given…” 

“That goes without saying!” Mildred sounded completely affronted at the notion. “I was thinking more along the lines of what traits you would find _most compatible_ , not merely eliminating the obvious _deal-breakers_ _,_ Mystic Maya! Ah, is there a certain type you would find particularly pleasing, physically? Slim? Toned? Blond?” 

Silence on the line. 

“Or _brunet_ _?_ ” Mildred added hastily, not wanting to make it too glaring about the fact that she’d just fully described Longines to a T! “Er, muscular? Brown, blue or green-eyed? Tall? Short?” 

“I’m just over five feet, so finding a man taller than _me_ shouldn’t be too hard unless you were planning on fetching me a Hobbit from _Middle Earth_ ,” Maya answered with a gusty sigh. “Um, now that you mention it, there _is_ a particular type that I shall _not_ consider in the least. I have a decidedly s _trong avers_ ion to any _black_ _-_ _haired_ men! Also, I find _dark blue eyes_ of any sort most abhorrent. But that is all. Otherwise, I’m most open-minded.” 

Worriedly, the schemer’s mind flashed back to Longines’ open, honest, trusting cerulean orbs. The hair heir’s eyes tended to change color from sky to Lapis lazuli blue at their deepest, depending on his mood but were nowhere near the midnight blue depths of what the Master had just described. She also had a pretty good idea about _what_ the _underlying basis_ of these deal-breakers stemmed from, though wisely kept mum. 

“Duly noted.” Her tone was dulcet reassurance personified. “I shall keep my eyes peeled for men with hair no darker than chestnut in color and restrict my search to blond, brown-haired, and redhead only.” 

“Thank you. I shall stand-by in wait to see what results from these search perimeters.” Maya spoke quickly, then hung up right then before she could change her mind. 

_Ugh, I should have said no to redheads,_ the Master realized belatedly _. The last thing I want is to give birth to some **soulless ginger baby** **demon** if folklore is anything to go by!_She giggled to herself at the though _t. Ah, what the hell, I don’t want to limit myself_ ** _too_** _much…red hair doesn’t_ ** _have_** _to mean freckles – hell Jamie Fraser on that British TV show_ ** _Outlander_** _is a_ ** _total auburn-haired_** _hottie!_

Maya flopped down onto her bed and heavy a gusty sigh. 

_Besides, Mildew could walk across to the ends of the world and back without finding_ ** _another_** ** _Phoenix Wright_** _\- which is_ ** _exactly_** _what I’m hoping for! Besides, surely she’ll choose wealthy, ambitious men who can only benefit my reputation and with whom affiliations will only bolster, not_ ** _tarnish_** _Kurain in any way! Ultimately,_ ** _anyone_** _other than my derelict ex has **got** to be better in comparison!_ ** _How bad_** _could any of these guys_ _be_ _?_ _­­­­­­­­_

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Mildred Latrine_** _  
Fey Manor_  
March 31, 2025, 2:22 PM

Three disastrous weeks later, Maya curtly commanded a completely bewildered Sister Bikini to summon Mystic Mildred to her office at Fey Manor _immediately_! 

Steam was practically coming out of the Master’s ears as she impatiently drummed her fingertips atop her desk as she awaited the Dragon Lady’s arrival from Eagle Mountain. 

“You wished to see me, Mystic Maya?” Mildred asked cheerfully when she arrived just over half an hour later. 

“You better _believe_ I wanted to see you!” Maya crossed her arms and glared at the old woman. “Did you know that the meaning of your _miai_ ’ _s_ name, _Ketsuno Ana,_ loosely translates into _asshole_ in Japanese?” 

_“_ _Does_ it now?” Mildred blinked, her expression one of utmost virtuousness. “How incredibly… _ill-fated_ for her then –”

“Yes, it _does_!” Maya scowled. “And quite frankly, given the _quality of the_ men she’s been hooking me up with, I wish to tell you that I find her _unfortunate_ _moniker_ to be most _aptly_ _fitting!"_

“Woe is me to hear of such things, Master.” Mildred miraculously managed to keep a straight face. “Presumably you found these sought-out suitors to be somehow lacking? I can assure you that I did screen and further narrow down the selection _myself,_ _before_ presenting their profiles to you…” 

“Then I don’t know which of you is more deserving of the butt hole translation!” Maya shouted, sparks shooting out of her mocha eyes. “Shall I now begin regaling you about my video chat with _bachelor number one?_ I have no qualms in telling you right now; he has already been voted off the island and will _not_ be getting any sort of in-person date!” 

“Er, that would have been Mr. Tuggley, correct?” Mildred cleared her throat and affixed her most sympathetic expression. “What faux pas was it that the gentleman is guilty of that shan’t even allow him the pleasure of an in the flesh introductory date with the esteemed Master?” 

“Buck Tuggley is a compulsive sportsman – a noxious _trophy hunter_ who kills animals purely for the bloodthirsty sport!” Maya shuddered at the thought. “If I chose to be with him, I would have to slog down every stream between California and New England, as it would entail spending _the rest of my life_ in the hunting field! The other thing is he appears to be completely _terrified_ of women! He is unable to make eye-contact at all, and claims that is _perfectly normal_ for him to blush like a schoolboy in the company of pretty women … even though he's _nearly 40_ and we were only talking on Skype!” 

Mildred just stared at her blankly. Incensed, Maya rose from her desk, placed her hands on either side of her head, and flung them forward with palpable disbelief as she shouted. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Stalin, woman! Your matchmaker set me up with the _40-year-old virgin!”_

The old woman somehow managed a look of innocent confusion at the Master’s obvious ire. 

“But I've heard he’s quite charming and nice, however. Moreover, he does have a lot of wealth and is of amiable disposition." 

_"Nice?!”_ Maya shrieked. “He's a complete _bacon-brain_! I Googled the _oily heir_ and rest assured, despite his riches and stature, Mr. Tuggley is neither mature, bright nor even _an adequate hunter_! When I questioned him about my findings, he finally confessed that the reason he still walks with a limp is due to a certain recent _hunting accident_. It appears he was startled by a deer, and _accidentally shot himself in the foot_ last year! Were I to wed him, I would be a widow, by _his own mark_ _, s_ urely, within a year at most!"

She paused to take a breath of air into her starved lungs. 

"His best friend, Phillip McCracken, due to the same incident, was hospitalized due to the ball from the rifle being ricocheted off of a tree and hit him in the arm! Jesus Christ on a stick dipped in cornbread fried in peanut oil and hocked at a county fair! If he doesn't kill _himself_ , then he will surely maim or hospitalize _me_ _!_ So a _giant hell to the no_ one that one!” 

“Alright, I can see why you may have an aversion to a virginal bad hunter with equally bad aim…” Mildred bit her lip as hard as she could to stifle her snort of laughter. “But surely the other two couldn’t have been as bad –” 

_“Bad?”_ Maya fumed. “They were _worse_ if that was at all possible! Let’s take us to bachelor number two, the equally and aptly named _Jack Knoff_. That _misogynistic nimrod_ is also an _overdressed, egotistical, razor-tongued_ little gossip on top of everything else! I was aghast when he showed up for our dinner date by shamelessly admitting the _more flattering_ photo I’d seen of him was over a _decade_ old!” 

“Surely looks aren’t everything?” Mildred defended, biting back a knowing grin.

“If his disposition wasn’t as grotesque as his appearance, I would say surely not!” Maya agreed icily. “However, _potty-mouthed_ swine of foul stench is now _gassy_ , fat, _and_ _balding!_ It was false advertising at its worst!” 

“Oh, dear…” 

“ _Oh, dear_ is right! That _flatulent porker_ claims he is quite the catch and hence he refuses to settle, as he has yet to have found a woman who _he_ thinks is _worthy_ of him! He seems to look _disdainfully_ upon all women, as opposed to _fearing_ them! At _42_ _,_ he _still_ lives with his mother, who helped him start his _urinal cake_ empire and he thinks no other female alive can hold a candle to her in comparison!"

Maya's lip curled with disgust at the memories of the lecherous brute with the wandering eyes. 

"Between his inability to snip the apron strings and his narcissism, I was bored to near tears despite the admittedly succulent steak dinner – which the skinflint tried to make me go _Dutch_ on! The man drones on about himself more than any flying remote hovering object ever could! And to boot, he appears to love himself the way _Kanye West loves Kanye West!”_

“I won't even _pretend_ that I know who that is.” Mildred was unable to mask her amusement any longer as she flashed a wry smile. “Although I shall gather it to mean his undoubtedly _too many hugs_ received in childhood from his overly doting Mother must have made him unbearably self-enamored? Dare I ask about the final match? I can only assume that _third_ time wasn’t the charm?”

The Master merely treated her to a lethal glare that would have stripped paint off a driveway in response and she shrank back slightly.

“Er, I guess not…”

“You guess correctly!” Maya muttered darkly. “ _Mike Easter_ , _the granola crunching, tree-hugging hippie_ founder of Happy Hemp Production Products, who wore socks _with his Birkenstock sandals_ , somehow saw fit to be _my_ fashion critic! That blasted Jesus-bearded pot-head had the gall to get high right before our date – then called me _a square_ for not taking a hit off his bong with him! – and then, to add insult to injury, he _mocked_ my Master’s outfit – saying I looked like an _escaped nun on the run!”_

“The bloody cheek of him!” Mildred shook her head in mock dismay. “How incredibly disrespectful! Um, mayhap he’s more level headed when he’s not indulging in … the products his empire is built upon?” 

“Not a chance! Easter is a total _stoner_ pothead!” Maya snarled. “He was blasting _60’s folk music_ in his _electric car_ the entire way to the restaurant… where he took the liberty of ordering for the both of us at Grassroots Eatery – let’s just say I’d rather dry hump a cheese grater!”

“That bad, was he?”

“The man is a _complete vegan_ _!”_ The Burger Queen wailed. “He ordered us _tofu_ _burgers_! He legit _grimaced_ when I dared ask for cheese as a topping, and then _sanctimoniously and quite loftily_ preached _anything_ consumed from an animal was _barbaric_ _!”_

 _I saved the worst for last indeed_ _!_ Mildred thought gleefully. _Longines will be a shoo-in after this!_

“ _Then_ he went on to lecture me by saying I was a _soulless animal killer_ when he found out I like my _burgers copious and juicy_ and my _steaks rare and bloody_!” Maya complained. “I’ve encountered less judgmental men in a court of law! I told him the only reason he was a vegetarian was he was a shoddy hunter and that Mike Easter could go right ahead and… _kiss his own name_ before he even thought twice of calling me again!” 

“I profess these suitors sorely misrepresented themselves and sound truly dreadful…” Mildred knitted her brow. “However, I must say you are being most particular Mystic Maya, and certainly not making the process very easy! After all _,_ _are you_ _,_ or _are you not_ _,_ breaking _all your exact words_ to me, when you first asked me to _just find you a match in the first place_?” 

“That’s not fair!” Maya puffed out her cheeks in frustration. “It’s not _my_ fault these guys passed themselves off as normal on the phone with me and then duped me into agreeing to go out what wound up being the _dates from hell!_ Stick a fork in me, because I’m _done_ , you hear me? _Done!_ Three strikes, I’m out! I give up! No more dates for me! I’ll just…join Sister Bikini on the Nun Path and go without a husband. After all, it’s the path many of the village ladies have opted for, and _they’re_ none the worse for wear!” 

She let out a humorless laugh then and gestured to her flowing robes. “And evidently, I look the part, already!” 

“I refuse to let you give up so soon!” Mildred insisted, putting on her most cajoling tone. “Life is not a game of baseball! I implore you to give it one more chance. There’s one more man whom the matchmaker has just gotten wind of, and I’ve thoroughly researched him myself as well. He is younger than the rest, only 30, and has no hygiene aversions or penchant for recreational substance abuse. Far from being self-centered and self-enamored, he and his family come from a long line of charitable philanthropists and he’s a self-made billionaire running an international chain of successful hair salons.” 

“ _Self-made_ _billionaire_?” Maya raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. “Active in charity work? And he’s only three years older than me? Wherever did Ketsuno Ana find this _elusive paragon?”_

“He’s from Los Angeles, but he travels frequently around the globe, as he’s a very hands-on CEO,” Mildred replied honestly, for the very first time. “Meaning he’d be very understanding about your own hectic Master’s travels, which often take you abroad as well and has no interest in _your_ wealth whatsoever."

"Hmm...." Maya cupped her chin in one hand and tapped her cheek thoughtfully as she mulled that over. Encouraged, Mildred hastily continued singing the blond man's praises. 

"And while his father was a wealthy politician who made his fortune in telecommunications, a decade ago he loaned his only son a small sum of start-up money to come up with a business plan and build his empire. Longines returned the full amount to his father _within the first year_ , _with interest_ , and tried to pay his father back, but he refused to accept it, so it was instead given to charity.” 

“Hmmm….honorable _and_ generous. He sounds…like he has _potential_. I wonder what this wingless angel _looks_ like, though?” Maya murmured, almost to herself, sitting back down at her desk, her fingertips already poised over her computer keyboard as she went to her internet search engine. “What’s the name of this _hair heir?"_

“Longines,” Mildred purred, her thin lips curling into a supercilious smile. “Longines Diandre Crispin Beaugosse the Third.”

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey_** _  
Kurain Village_  
April 26, 2025, 5:40 PM  
  


For the next four weeks, Longines and Maya played what appeared to be a never-ending game of phone-tag. While they texted and emailed as much as possible, they were never in the same time zone to be able to have a live webcam or phone chat. However, his voice in the voicemails he left her, from his travels in Australia, New Zealand and Fiji always sounded genuinely remorseful to have missed her, and his voice was kind, sweet, and sincere, much like his expression in every photo she found of him online. 

Much to the Master’s surprise, the man in the corporate photo she’d pulled up on his company website looked every bit the clean-cut, pulchritudinous golden-boy Mildred had described him to be. Her further research also showed that despite his fame and famous parental lineage, the recently orphaned Longines Beaugosse kept a relatively low profile and had no black mark against his name whatsoever – not even a drunken bar brawl or speeding ticket. He led a healthy lifestyle, was very generous with his charity work and donations, and ran the most successful blow-dry chain in the country, which meant he was never kept in more than one place for long!

According to a recent interview in _Forbes_ Magazine the year prior, he was one of the _Top 30 Under 30_ richest men in the world and was looking to expand _You Blo Me_ salons in the Southern Hemisphere, which was where he now was and had been the past month. 

Ironically, the second week of April, the _one wee_ _k_ he’d been in town, had been when the Master and Pearl had gone off to a South American convention in Peru!

It seemed they were two ships in the nights that were doomed to pass each other and never to connect.

Then, to Maya’s great surprise, the weekend prior, Longines had emailed her and claimed that since she’d been so patient with his crazed schedule, he was going to make the effort to come up to Kurain to spare her any hassle and would be “enchanted” to make her acquaintance near month-end at any time she could spare. 

So here Maya was, anxiously checking her reflection in her dresser mirror for the umpteenth time as she smoothed her satin ebony hair back with trembling fingers and applied another layer of pearly gloss to her lips.

Her innate nature fought shy against makeup, being fortunate enough even this late in her second decade to have smooth, unlined porcelain skin that needed no artifice. However, she did tend to put a dab of rouge on her already rosy cheeks and a flick of mascara on her long lashes whenever she went out to conferences away from the village so figured that bare minimum would suffice now as well. While she had no expectations from the meeting of suitor number four that afternoon – after all, hadn’t all the others seemed great on paper and photo then still been _complete loser/idiot/morons_?! – Maya sincerely wanted to put her best foot forward so that she could honestly tell Mildred that _she_ , at least had made her most valiant effort!

Seriously, this was _it_ , she’d informed the elder crossly. If this guy was the _Mother of all Fart Knocking, Goat Blowers,_ then off to the nunnery she would go! 

Maya had decided to take a different approach in meeting Longines than she had with the other men. In all the former instances, she’d met them in Master mode: floor-length purple kimono, hair pulled back into its no-nonsense bun (which also hid the evidence of Sasha’s hack job until now!) and practical wooden sandals. This time, she was going to meet him not as _Master Maya_ , but as _Maiden Maya_ , a _single woman_ who, when the effort was made, could be a creature of fetching nature indeed – something she’d not given even half a mind to since Phoenix had left her nearly two months ago. But now, things were different – she wanted, at the very least, for Longines to find her physically pleasing, as he was quite the looker indeed! She may as well use her feminine wiles now, while she still had them, and before she got too old and they shriveled away to non-existence, like the Dragon Lady’s! 

Instead of her long robes, the dark-haired beauty had donned on a somewhat daring, fitted baby-pink double layer, a cocktail dress that hugged her every curve, with a plunging open back. It was short with a flirty full skirt, silky double-layer voile, spaghetti straps with an adjustable back, with a matching thick sash tied around her narrow waist. Three-inch indigo stilettos completed the look. It was close to dinnertime, and Saturday evening. If the two hit it off, Maya hoped maybe, they could grab a bite to eat somewhere or at least have a drink at a chic cocktail lounge where she could show off this racy little number she’d picked up on her last business trip in LA in February, but hadn’t had a chance to wear. She’d been planning to wear it for Phoenix to knock his socks off on her birthday… 

Maya bit her lip as she felt a stinging sensation prick the back of her lids. She hadn’t been down to the city since the breakup and any thought of it only made her think of her former lover, which only brought back the river of tears which still hadn’t fully dried up. But she fought back the urge to cry – she didn’t want to ruin her painstakingly applied eye makeup – and threw back her shoulders confidently and tossed her hair, letting the glossy raven strands cascade in a soft swish around her.

For a moment, her courage nearly failed her, and she flushed as she smoothed her hands down her hips, suddenly self-conscious of how much skin she was showing, even though it was a warm spring evening which would allow for such an ensemble. What if Longines thought she looked like a harlot? What if she didn’t find him aesthetic at all and the idea of his eyes seeing so much of her made her skin crawl more than tingle? Erring on the side of caution, Maya hastily threw a lavender cashmere cloak over her dress, which although shorter than her kimono, and showed off her bare, slender legs, was still longer than the mini itself, and fell just above her knees for modesty purposes.

 _There!_ _N_ ow it would be entirely up to fate to determine whether the lucky son of a bitch got to see what lay beneath! She giggled to herself and strode to the door. 

_Here goes nothing…_


	89. Unspoken Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Lying is done with words and also with silence.”

**_Maya Fey_**  
 _Kurain Village_  
April 26, 2025, 5:40 PM

Maya stepped into the main hallway of Fey manor, and then let out a startled cry as she unexpectedly bumped into Pearl, who’d just emerged from her room, and was undoubtedly heading to the Dining Hall for dinner. 

“Hi, Mystic Maya! You sure look pretty,” her cousin greeted her with a sweet smile. “How come you’re so dressed up for dinner?” 

The Master nervously thrust her hands into her coat pockets. She knew how heartbroken Pearl had been over the split with Phoenix. Undoubtedly, despite everything, she was also painfully aware that the teen still adored him and was nowhere near ready to accept another man as a potential “father figure” in her life anytime soon. 

Ergo, Maya had kept mum about her altered marriage stance and her disastrous dates thus far – luckily none of whom had been worth mentioning! She figured she would convey matters to her little girl when the time was right and there was something to _tell_. 

That evening, she’d desperately been hoping to have dodged any encounters with _anyone_ en route to meeting Longines and Mildred at the Meeting Hall, vainly anticipating that everyone else would already be at dinner. 

Too late, it looked like she was busted now! The meeting spot was en route to the dining area, and no doubt, Pearl would want to accompany her cousin on the way there… and Maya, for the life of her, could not think of a single reason for her _not_ to! 

_Well, surely Pearl wouldn’t want to stick around for a boring business matter – not when her Fey inherited six stomachs are calling her_! Maya thought hopefully. _Maybe she’ll just say hello and keep walking ahead to go have dinner – and it’s not like Mildew or Longines can say anything to blow my cover in that split **nanosecond** greeting, right?_

“Er, we have a visitor who’s come up this evening that I’m going to be meeting with, Pearly,” Maya responded awkwardly, her hands clenching into nervous fists inside her pockets as she reluctantly headed out the main doors alongside the spirit medium. “We may go out later to have a … _business-related outing_ in the city after dinner, and I wanted to look, um, you know, more modern and all…” 

It was as close to the truth as she could get without flat-out lying, Maya figured. After all, none of these agreed-to meetings, regardless of whether they led to matrimony, would ever be deemed as some sort of heart or emotive-based decision. Any sort of arranged marriage in her case was indeed a matter of mutually beneficial business, in the end. Like a merger of sorts, based on pure convenience and perhaps, if she was lucky, some sort of contentment ... someday. 

But it would never be anything beyond that. She was emotionally dead and empty inside. Any true happiness … love … joy… those would never be hers again.

As unromantic as it sounded, even if she ever mated somewhere down the line, Maya supposed it would be the equivalent of channeling a spirit. The part where you submitted to them taking over your empty vessel of a body, allowing it to be utilized for the moment. Sure, she was supposed to triumph over loss and all that, but she knew, realistically, that no male would ever take Phoenix’s place. She’d loved him with every fiber of her heart, and every day had to come to terms that she wasn't going to end up with him. Daily, she still had to fight the urge where all she wanted to do was get in a bed somewhere, turn the lights off, and just lie there. For, like, a century.

 _Phoenix Wright, your soul was a pure spark of love but the day you took it away was more than my poor, vulnerable heart could bear. You drew me in with a sweetness I had never found before, something so strong I could feel it even when we were apart. But that day you left me, you destroyed me in ways I had never imagined possible. You turned the safe haven of my mind into a tormenting hell, into its own prison. You broke my heart and now I must recoil to protect the shattered pieces that remain._

“You don’t need to explain wanting to get out of those robes on a beautiful night like this, Mystic Maya.” Pearl looked at her adoringly. “I know you’ve worn regular clothes sometimes at a conference when we’ve traveled – and I’ve decided to take a break from these acolyte robes once in a while as well. Next time you shop for clothes though, I may take you up on your offer to shop for _me_ , too! I’ll definitely need some looser, bigger blouses, so Mystic Mia doesn’t have another _near wardrobe malfunction_ next time I channel her!” 

Maya giggled. As much as Pearl had grown over the years and now wore a larger size robe than she had as a child, at 15, the youngest Fey was still nowhere _near_ the late defense attorney's build in the bust department! More times than not, they’d both feared Mia’s Fey Twins would tumble free from the teen’s robes at the most inopportune moment, so the idea of Pearl wearing looser garments wasn’t such a bad one at all! 

“You really do look nice,” the teen praised her guardian as they strode along. “Although I’m still getting used to that new haircut of yours…you’ve never worn it down around the others yet – aren’t you worried about the elders freaking out when they see you?” 

“The elders are the last thing on my mind,” Maya answered honestly but ran a self-conscious hand over her locks just the same. “Does it look _that_ bad?” 

“Not at all,” Pearl assured her. “It’s just so _different!_ Besides, you told me Miss Sasha was going to make lots of cancer charity wigs from it, right? Therefore, it was for a good cause! And besides, it’ll grow back!” 

The diviner groaned inwardly. 

_Jeez, thanks a lot Pearly!_

As the Feys loped up the garden path and neared the Meeting Hall, Maya craned her neck to see if Longines had arrived yet, but it appeared that he might have been running late. However, an unexpected visitor, a tall, willowy woman, whose back was to them, could be seen presently speaking to Mildred. 

The stranger was suitably dressed for the warm weather that evening, sporting purple suede gauchos, a lime green tank top, and lime green espadrilles, and long platinum curls, which spilled about her shoulders. Her hair reminded Maya of Tiffany, the pneumatic blonde bombshell from The Borscht Bowl, whose eerily similar _,_ perfectly coiffed tresses made her look like she’d just stepped out of salon shampoo commercial! 

For a moment, Maya’s heart froze in her chest. She hadn’t seen the waitress since the comedy of errors night that had been her 21st birthday six years ago, and she was mortified at the prospect of seeing an unexpected ghost from her – _and her exes_ – past, as she ruefully acknowledged she’d behaved terribly towards the other woman that evening! But what was Phoenix’s colleague doing in up there in Kurain?! She hadn’t struck Maya as the sort who believed in spirit channeling in the least! 

As they drew closer to the two figures, Maya could make out the expression but not the words being spoken by the village elder, who was facing their direction. Her hands waved about animatedly as she spoke to the person before her, who had her back to them, a strangely pensive look on her face as she addressed her guest.

“Ah, your hair…” Mildred began uneasily, her bony hands gesturing to her companion anxiously as she fluttered them about like restless birds. “It’s er…grown so _long_ since I saw you just back in February…” 

_Huh? So Mildew knows Tiffany? But wasn’t her hair **always** that long? What on earth is going on here?!_

As the necromancer approached, the worry lines in Mildred’s hag mien further deepened, and only became more pronounced at the unanticipated sight of the accompanying teenager. 

“Oh, Mystic Maya, _there_ you are! Er, Mystic Pearl…I didn’t expect to see _you_ too…” The old woman tittered nervously. “Ah…ladies, allow me to introduce…” 

“No need, Mildred, I’ve been doing my homework on the world-famous Kurain Channeling Technique and its esteemed leader and assistant,” the blonde-haired person drawled and turned to Pearl with a megawatt beam. “ _You_ must be Pearl! Just look at you! Pretty as a picture, just like in the photos I’ve seen of you online on the Kurain site!"

Another blinding white smile.

"And you…by process of elimination…must be Master Maya Fey! I do declare, the photos do you _no_ justice whatsoever! You’re _gorgeous!_ Although I see you’ve updated your hairdo since that profile pic was taken! I totally approve – it’s _fabulous_! Loves it!” The village leader was then dimly aware of her hand being grasped into a warm clasp. “Such a pleasure to finally meet you, at last, Miss Fey! I’m Longines Beaugosse.” 

Maya blinked at the blonde woman, whose hand was still holding hers – and gawked as she realized this wasn’t a _woman_ at all! 

This tall, flawless specimen whose hair, if possible, was even more glorious than _hers_ had ever been, even before she’d cut it … _this_ was her proposed betrothed?! 

_Yet another man who looks nothing like his photos!_ She thought dazedly. 

Next to her, Pearl’s eyes were the size of saucers as they took in the sight of their visitor. 

Maya was no stranger to attractive men – she’d seen legions of Miles Edgeworth fangirls swoon over the model comely prosecutor over the years. Moreover, while he wasn’t as classically handsome as his best friend/rival, Phoenix had had a unique, unconventional, and undefined masculinity that had oozed raw, primal sexuality, even in his hobo gear – even though it now _killed_ her to admit it! 

However, Longines Beaugosse …was in a different league _entirely_. The man was simply too perfect in his man-prettiness! 

His smile was soft, genuine, and his flawlessly sculpted strong bone structure was without a hint of femininity. If other men till then had all been meadow grass, _he_ was a rouge poppy – his ‘colors’ were just more vibrant and brighter, making him stand out no matter where he went. Besides, there was that _hair_! The kind of locks every girl dreamed of thick – blond, with just the right hint of body and bounce – essentially liquid sunshine that was so glossy it appeared to be _shimmering_ , with all the essences of summer, like the Greek God of the sun. It draped gracefully past his shoulders, curling along the ends, glistening in the evening sunlight with every movement of his head so the rest of it fell down his back in mesmerizing waves. 

He also looked nothing even remotely like Phoenix Wright, which was merely _another_ crucial point in his favor, as far as Maya was concerned! 

_This guy’s even prettier than Pearly and I put together!_ The spirit medium knew she was staring but was unable to stop herself. _Also... he’s **really** flamboyant …but maybe that’s a hairdressing world thing?!_

“It’s nice to meet you too…” She finally managed to utter, just as Mildred let out a gasp of dismay as she at last set eyes on the Master’s new hair, in its unpinned glory, for the very first time. Her hands flew to her lips in shock. 

“Mystic Maya… your _hair_ ,” the elder finally managed to croak weakly. “Wh – what have you done?! Why – why ever did you _do_ such a thing?” 

She crossed her arms and glowered defiantly at her enemy, as though daring her to speak another word, and tossed her glossy tresses back over her shoulder, incredibly displeased with the dramatic antics of the Dragon Lady. After all, her mane was still plenty long! Despite Maya’s irrational initial pleas, stemmed from temporary insanity, for Sasha to hack it off at the nape, the hairdresser had refused, knowing the heartbroken, unthinking actions of a reckless female when she saw one. 

“Do you have a problem with my new hairstyle, Mystic Mildred?” She coolly raised an eyebrow while Mildred’s thin lips opened and closed rapidly, like a fish gaping out of water. 

“Your _hair_!” The elder burst out, gesturing to the onyx strands which had once flowed past the Master’s buttocks, but now fell just under her breasts, admittedly a shocking good two-feet shorter than she’d ever had it before. “ _When_ did you – that is, how long has it been so … _short_?” 

_Mildew! Your **face!** _Maya retorted mentally, fuming that the other woman was making such a scene in front of a revered guest, and over a matter that should have been of no concern to her! _How long has your pruny, dried up mug looked like you just sucked on a lemon?_

“You’re seriously calling _that_ short?” Longines sounded flabbergasted as he shook his head at the elder. “Are you kidding me? I’m _in the business_ and believe you me, this girl could easily be a hair model for one of my ad campaigns!” 

He turned to Maya and flashed another smile worthy of a Colgate toothpaste commercial. 

“Pay her no mind, Miss Fey – _I_ happen to think that length suits you perfectly! It’s neither too long nor too short. Not too straight nor too curly, but what makes me just _adore_ it is that it’s so perfectly jet-black! Moreover, I can tell it’s your natural color, which is just stunning! The shade is so dark, in the bright sun it positively _shines_ , creating a _superb_ contrast. Plus, it looks so soft and silky, I can tell each strand apart and see that you take great care of it!” 

“Longines, please call me Maya.” She smiled shyly. “And thank you kindly – I brush it 100 strokes nightly. It _was_ down past my – er – _posterior,_ up until a couple of months ago. I’ve been wearing it tied back in a topknot since, however. It appears ah, Mystic Mildred here wasn’t expecting such a _drastic_ change at my impromptu unveiling.” 

_“Fiddlesticks!”_ Longines waved his hand dismissively and clucked his tongue in disapproval at the Dragon Lady. “For a girl as tiny as you, Maya, it sounds like your hair was way too long before, and would have been completely overpowering you, so people would have been seeing your _hair_ , but not _you!_ Besides, we all need to make a change sometimes, right? But, to answer your question, Mildred - no I have not discovered _Miracle Grow Hair Magic.”_

The hair heir twittered at the old woman’s thunderstruck expression.

“Not _yet_ , anyway! FYI, until my actual hair gets to this length, these here are Beaugosse brand hair extensions I'm presently rocking!” 

He studied the still-stupefied elder with a contemplative look on his face then. 

“Also, we _so_ have got to do something about that _skinned rabbit_ look of yours, as you _insist_ on scraping your hair back into that über tight bun! I’m amazed you have _any_ hair left at all – you’re just _asking_ to go bald early!” 

“Everyone is entitled to their opinion, I suppose.” Mildred pursed her lips together so hard, they seemed to disappear. “Although I’ll have you know, I’ve been wearing this hairstyle for the better part of 50 years.” 

“I’m all about signature style, but why must you wear it so _tight_? Longines exclaimed, undaunted. “I noticed it when we last met, by the way, but didn’t want to say anything at the time, for the record. It seriously looks like your _hairdo_ is trying to give you a _facelift_ – and if _that’s_ your goal, by the way, I must recommend a _killer_ place to get that done! Nevertheless, right now, your unfortunate hairdo is _pulling the skin_ around your temples and the way it slants up your eyes makes you look almost _Asian!”_

“Mr. Beaugosse!” Mildred huffed, eying him stonily. Smoke was practically coming out of the Dragon Lady’s nostrils. “I’ll have you know that nearly everyone in Kurain, while of the Caucasian race, has some sort of Japanese ancestry that ties them to the roots of this village! Technically speaking … we are _all_ Asian!” 

“Relax, Millie girl, or you'll lose whatever hair is _left_ on that head of yours! I meant no offense!” Longines tittered and held up his hands in a palm up, no offense gesture. “Whatever _floats your boat,_ you know? I was just giving you my _professional_ input, that’s all. Anytime you want a tune up…you know where to go, though!” 

_Millie girl?_ Maya nearly snorted with laughter at the outrageous nickname – this entire exchange was _beyond_ hilarious! Next to her, Pearl's lips also switched with barely repressed amusement. The old battle-axe noticed, and shot them both a filthy look before turning back to the Apollo Sun God. 

“I prefer to be addressed as _Mystic Mildred,_ thank you.” The old woman was struggling to sound civil despite her clenched jaw and gritted teeth. “However, regardless, I suppose we seem to be straying away from the important matter at hand. Mystic Maya, have you decided yet what your plans will be this evening, to better acquaint yourself with your suitor?” 

Maya jolted, both at the sound of Pearl’s astonished gasp and at the thoroughly _unfamiliar_ use of the phrase, all the while realizing, to her utter horror, that in that exact moment, her cover had been blown! 

Before she could give the Dragon Lady hell for her _big, fat mouth_ , she turned her head to look guiltily at her cousin, whose angelic face had transformed from being wreathed with surprised curiosity into one that was now white with shock as the meaning of the _very telltale_ word sank in.

 _“Suitor?”_ Pearl whispered in dismay, her accusing gaze sliding resentfully first from the bewildered-looking Longines, to her shamefaced looking guardian. “Mystic Maya, you were going to _marry_ this man? S –so soon? _Already?_ And you weren’t going to even _tell_ me?!”

She raised a hand and pointed her trembling finger at the blond man. 

“Was _he_ the reason why you got so dressed up for dinner - when you _lied_ and told me that you might have a _business meeting_ tonight?!"

“Pearly, _no_!” The chagrined psychic shook her head vehemently. “It's not like that! Please! Let me explain!”

She reached out a hand towards the betrayed looking girl, but the teenager pulled away, shaking her head violently as hurt and angry tears filled her eyes. 

“Mystic Maya, you _lied_ to me!” Pearl cried, glaring at Maya and Longines defiantly. “How could you have a change of heart _already_? I - I _still_ miss Mr. Nick!” With that, the poor girl burst into tears and ran off, leaving a thunderstruck Master, a mixed-up Mildred, and perplexed Longines in her wake. 

“Pearly, wait!” Maya cried, and then frantically turned back to her guest, a distraught expression on her pretty face. “Longines, I'm so sorry, but I _have_ to go! My Pearly... she had _no idea_ about any of this! I swear, I was going to tell her if there _ever_ became something worth mentioningbut right now, she’s been completely blindsided – yet again! Even worse, she thinks I betrayed her. That poor girl’s been through so much already! Please excuse me...”

She turned to run after her cousin, but the Dragon Lady clamped a hand on her arm, effectively halting her. 

“Mystic Maya, are we to take this to mean you _never_ told Mystic Pearl that you've since agreed to the matchmaking?” Mildred was the picture of innocent mystification, as though still not realizing – or more likely, _uncaring_ – of the calamity her unthinking words had just caused. “While of course, it is entirely your prerogative to do as you see fit, I must admonish this notion you have of rewarding such unseemly behavior and you take off after your cousin right now! It would be hardly prudent, not to mention flat out _rude,_ considering our visitor here has come from so far and after so long ... _no less impudent_ than that whole scene your kinswoman has subjected us to just now!”

The wretched woman then affixed her most serene expression and turned to their guest, ignoring the dangerous warning glimmer in Maya’s eyes. 

“Mr. Beaugosse,” she simpered. “On our village leader’s behalf, please allow me to most sincerely apologize for Mystic Pearl’s unprecedented outburst in front of mixed company, incidentally which, I’m sure you’ll concur, was most inappropriate and unbecoming behavior for a young lady...”  
  
"Will you shut the hell up, Mildew!” Maya exploded, jerking her arm free. Her expression as she glared at the village elder was downright murderous. “Haven't you and your ever gaping, blathering pie-hole done enough damage already?!” 

“Why, I never!” Mildred gasped theatrically and clutched a veiny hand to her chest as she affected her most affronted expression. “How _dare_ you speak so disrespectfully to an elder, and in front mixed company, too! Mr. Beaugosse, I assure you this sort of outrageous behavior is not typical in the least and is not at all condoned in our village whatsoever…” 

“Oh, will you give it a rest, _Mystic Mildred!_ This is hardly the time and place for this nonsense!” Longines snapped, all former joviality vanished from his face as he frowned his disapproval at the old woman before turning to Maya with a compassionate look in his cerulean eyes. 

“Don’t you worry about me, Maya. Go to your cousin,” he urged softly, his expression one of utmost sympathy. “I’ll still be here when you get back, I _promise.”_

“I don’t know _when_ I’ll be back…Pearly’s run down to LA before as a child, she’s quite the little sprinter,” Maya sighed but flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for being so understanding…” 

“There’s no need for you to need to clean up this mess which you have had absolutely no hand in creating, Mystic Maya,” a fourth voice chimed in just then from behind them. “I shall agree with Mystic Mildred that it would be most inappropriate to run off on your guest in this instance.”

* * *

 ** _Mildred Latrine and Mystic Matilda_**  
 _Kurain Village  
_ April 26, 2025 5:50 PM

The Master spun around at the familiar sound and came face to face to Mystic Matilda. She was uncertain how long the village elder had been standing there, or how much she had witnessed, but the older woman’s face was a mask of disapproval. Her dark eyes remained riveted on Mildew, as she continued in a no-nonsense tone.

“Since _you’re_ the one who caused this cataclysm, however unwittingly, it is only prudent that _you_ be the one to clean up after the catastrophe you’ve created, wouldn’t you say?” Matilda prompted firmly. “Otherwise, we are allowing our village to be seen in a most unfavorable light if we in any way are suggesting to this kind gentleman that we endorse not tidying up after our own messes here in Kurain, are we not, Mystic Mildred?” 

Mildred gulped and shrank back under Matilda’s withering stare. 

“Of – of _course!”_ She stammered, clearing her throat. “You make a magnificent and wise point! I ah, was _just_ about to suggest that myself, Mystic Matilda.” 

“I’m sure you were.” Matilda smiled thinly at her cohort then graciously inclined her head towards Maya and Longines. “Welcome to Kurain Village. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, however briefly, Mr. Beaugosse. Please excuse my hasty departure now, as Mystic Mildred and I tend to this most important matter.”

She congenially placed her hand on the old woman’s arm and began to lead her away, tossing a reassuring smile at Maya over her shoulder.

“Please try to enjoy your evening, both of you. And don’t you worry about your cousin, Mystic Maya. I’ve lived in this village my entire life, and I know every nook and cranny of it. She can’t have gone too far. We’ll sort this all out with her – you have my word.”  
  
The moment they were out of earshot, Matilda abruptly dropped her hand from Mildred’s and faced her squarely. 

_"That_ is the man whom your _miai_ chose as a suitor for Mystic Maya?” The elder demanded, crossing arms across her chest as she looked sternly at Yzma’s doppelganger. “And you seriously _approved_ of it? What on earth were either of you thinking?!”

“What _exactly_ is your issue with Mr. Beaugosse?” Mildred countered, opting to play dumb and act as though she had no idea about what Matilda was about to refer to. “He is a successful businessman and as you saw, a most gallant gentleman as well! Plus, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes! Surely he will sire Mystic Maya with a most handsome heir!” 

“The man is prettier than Mystic Maya herself and I highly doubt she’s got what he seeks in the actions that are required to create said heir!” Matilda retorted. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice something that might be… _amiss_ here, to make this marriage – and subsequent consummation of it – ever come into fruition?” 

The Dragon Lady placed her hands on her hips and glared at her colleague defiantly. How she hated Matilda at that moment! Deep down, she was painfully aware the elder was simply stating the obvious and was voicing her own innermost fears aloud. 

Internally, Mildred had been silently screaming in horrified disbelief from the moment she’d witnessed the night and day transformation of the handsome, soft-spoken, aristocratic man she’d first encountered, to the now outrageously ostentatious … man-pretty, _Goldilocks-clone_ she’d come across that evening! Something in Longines had clearly snapped after his father’s untimely demise – he’d proudly told her that he had decided to finally _“free himself of his previous, stifling shackles”_ and _“finally be the true me I’ve always wanted to be!”_

The astounded elder had been positive that there was no way in hell Maya would ever accept such a flamboyant, glimmerous fop of a man, who was more feminine than she was, but Mildred would be damned if she were the one to try to halt the wheels in motion in the unlikely event of a miracle! After all, perhaps Longines was merely going through a phase of sorts, and marriage would straighten him out, onto a more…normal path, yet again? 

However, these were misgivings she would _never_ admit aloud in a million years! 

“Just _what_ are you trying to imply, Mystic Matilda?” Mildred demanded tersely. 

“I wasn’t _implying_ anything!” Matilda snapped. “I’m flat out _saying_ it! There is no way Mystic Maya will ever agree to some sort of sham of a marriage to this man! Surely, you’re putting me on here – you absolutely cannot be this completely daft or blind! If you allow this to happen, Kurain will yet again be the laughingstock of the nation! We both know that Longines Beaugosse is queerer than a three-dollar bill!” 

“He is _not_ gay!” Mildred denied hotly, feeling her face burn with embarrassment and anger. “He’s just… _French!”_

Matilda just stared at her dubiously. 

“He’s also in the hair industry…so he’s just _colorful_ , that’s all!” Mildred continued, warming to her defense argument and actually beginning to believe her own words now. “You know how that metrosexual craze has allowed men to be a tad more effeminate nowadays! How else can you explain the makeup for men and the man purses they now make?” 

“Is _that_ how you plan to explain the fact that Mr. Beaugosse was sporting bothof those things tonight?” Matilda arched a derisive eyebrow. “The man had longer lashes than _I_ do!” 

“I refuse to partake in this slander another moment!” Mildred declared, assuming her most sanctimonious tone. “I truly trust the belief of our esteemed, world-famous, professional matchmaker that this match would not only be a suitable one for our Master but a fruitful one for our village!” 

“You can’t sacrifice Mystic Maya into a loveless marriage where _forces of nature_ dictate she can never be wholly compatible with the mate she’s been offered, just for the better of the village!” Matilda exclaimed in incredulity. “That isn’t right!” 

“Fine! If _you_ wish to be one to stand in the path of what could very well lead to a happy union that benefits us all, because of your narrow-minded prejudices, Mystic Matilda, then go ahead, and be my guest!” Mildred offered, knowing full well that the quick-speaking, but slow-acting, and overly tenderhearted woman would do no such thing. “But I _do_ believe you promised Mystic Maya that you’d see to her cousin’s distressed state first and foremost, did you not? Ergo, I shall leave _you_ to it! _I_ am going to retire to my chambers as soon as I make that _long_ trip down to Eagle Mountain. All this bickering has given me _quite_ the headache!”

She paused for dramatic effect and placed a hand to her forehead, suddenly pale with an instant terminal illness. Then she sniffed haughtily and headed off in the direction of Heavenly Hall. 

Matilda stood there alone, biting her lip as she struggled with both her plight and the weight of her decision – doing what was morally right versus what was for the greater good of the village where she was a council member and for which she wanted nothing but the best!

But first things first, she was indeed a woman of her word – she _would_ go and try to console Mystic Pearl as she'd promised to do.

However, _after_ that, she _knew_ what she had to do – it was _long_ overdue…


	90. A Whole New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “For every night I can't sleep, for every night a dream I weave. A star is borne out of the darkness in the skies, and it lights up a whole new world...”

**_Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse_**  
 _Kurain Village_  
April 26, 2025, 5:55 PM

Maya, still in shock over the arrival of her unexpected ally, stared after the two women in amazed silence for several moments. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Longines at last spoke. 

“Your home, Kurain, is a beautiful place, Maya.” 

She blinked, surprised at how _normal_ he sounded, despite what had just transpired. 

“Yes, I suppose it is…” she mumbled, her cheeks still pink from the recent events. “I guess I take it for granted, but thanks. That’s nice of you to say so.” 

“Do you want to maybe take a walk, and you can show me around a bit? It is truly breathtaking – and I profess I am in the business of appreciating _all_ things of great beauty.” He flashed a friendly wink, and the psychic felt her blush deepen. 

She hated herself for her ridiculous, almost adolescent _awkwardity_ – it was as if she’d been warped into a time machine to nearly a decade ago as a virginal teenager when she’d first met Phoenix! 

Therefore, the village leader was uncertain how to take either the blond’s unsurpassable kindness or his playful flirtation. After all, aside from her ex and her friendship with Gumshoe and Miles, in her 27 years, she had _zero_ experience interacting in any way, shape, or form with the opposite sex, which was in itself, mortifying to admit! Besides, she couldn’t help but question Longines’ _sanity_ for not running away screaming based on what had just unfolded before his very eyes! And he’d handled both the situation and Mildew herself with such admirable finesse and panache…was it _possible_ for a man to be so beauteous a person, both inside _and_ out?! 

_What is his deal, anyway? Something’s gotta be wrong with him! I just know it!_

“Um, there’s a lakeside mountain view out this way if you want to follow me through the woods…” Maya murmured as she led the way. They walked along in companionable silence for the mile-long journey, finally stopping at the destination and just savoring the perfect stillness and silence of nature. 

Longines sucked in a deep breath as his enthralled gaze took in the surroundings. The mountains were covered with a rug of trees, green, yellow, scarlet, and orange, but their bare tops were scarfed and beribboned with still un-melted snow. From carved rocky outcrops, waterfalls drifted like skeins of white lawn, and in the fields, they could see the amber glint of rivers and the occasional mirror-like flash of the mountain lake. He lifted his eyes to the sky, touched his fingers to his lips, and offered a kiss heaven-bound before he spoke at last.

“I’ve been blessed to travel all over some of the most breathtakingly beautiful parts of the world.” There was wonder in his voice. “Yet all this time, unknownst to me, in my own backyard, essentially, this _exquisite, untouched splendor_ has been here all along.” He took in a deep lungful of fresh, untainted air and beamed happily at Maya. “Being alone in such a peaceful setting must help you lot feel very spiritual.” 

“It’s a great place to come, reflect, and think,” she replied, returning the smile. “But whenever we want to get in better touch with our more spiritual side, we usually sit under a frigid waterfall for hours on end or opt to get crushed by an icy boulder.” 

“I know the truth is supposedly stranger than fiction!” Longines started and gaped at her, his eyes the size of saucers. “But you’ve _got_ to be kidding me!” 

“I guess that part would not have been included for the general public knowledge,” Maya tittered. “That’s some top-secret, insider medium information I’m regaling you with, by the way! The kind you won’t find on our website!” 

“I thought I’d done enough homework on you, Miss Fey. Yet it seems there’s much more to your beguiling self than is revealed on your on the World Wide Web.” 

“I’ve asked you to call me _Maya!_ Care to compare notes on what it is you’ve googled about me, monsieur, so I can help separate fact from fiction? After all, you can’t believe everything you read!” 

“The same could be said about me – or about _anyone_ , really. I’d rather find out the truth for myself, at any rate.” His face grew serious then. “I know that yours is a most esteemed position that requires a lot of travel and that before your ancestral duties brought you back this paradise, you were a legal assistant in the city to a renowned defense attorney, as well as being involved in some very high profile cases with him – including as the _defendant_ _!”_

The brunette felt her smile waver a notch for a moment but then smiled brightly.

“It’s all of it true,” she said simply. “I was found innocent on all counts because I can’t even kill a _bug_ or watch a scary movie without having nightmares for weeks! That being said, I will profess to occasionally have _contemplated_ homicide on several occasions…” 

_Mostly certain old-as-balls, fire-breathing spinsters residing in this village who shall remain nameless!_

“I can only imagine who would drive such images in the good Master’s mind!” Longines’ eyes twinkled with barely suppressed mirth. “The intended victim of mental murder, by the way, wouldn’t possibly have been _Mystic Mildred_ , would it? Like, say, when she let her tongue slip earlier this evening to your cousin, perchance?” 

“Was our mutual antipathy that glaringly obvious?” Maya cracked up then. “Er, I mean, I confess and deny nothing, you hear? I plead the fifth amendment!” 

“Well, since you just told me you’re afraid to kill bugs and watch horror films, I shall in turn confess to you that I am, in comparison, an utter freak and find them to be most profusely amusing!”

Longines put up his hands in surrender as the diviner goggled at him.

“I’m not a complete ghoul! I mean, I’m not talking about the ghostly, demon-based ones like _The Exorcist_ , but come _on_! _The Nightmare on Elm Str_ eet series, with Freddy Kruger and his fiendishly funny one-liners? Or Jason Voorhees and his merciless, maniacal machete on unsuspecting bumping and grinding teenagers in the _Friday the 13 th_ flicks?” 

“Who _always_ manages to trip and fall in their haste to run away? Bah! Serves them right for no longer being untouchable virgins!” The Master snickered. “But Jason is the least soullessof all serial killers – he won’t ever hurt a kid!” 

_He’s got a leg up on Mildew in that sense!_ She added silently. The village leader never had, nor ever would, forgive the miserable Yzma clone for the time she’d tried to strike her beloved cousin – just because Pearl had been defending the Fey name against slander as well as the desecration of their ancestral home. 

Remembering her little girl and that devastated expression on her angelic visage when she’d run off earlier made the Master lose all good humor and suddenly just want to break down and cry. She didn’t know how, or even _if_ , Matilda had managed to smooth things over with the teen so that she’d be able to right things with her little girl, ever again. Worst of all was the knowledge that _Maya_ had been responsible, even unintentionally, for that pained look in Pearl’s eyes. It was downright agonizing. 

Longines caught the sudden sadness on her face and placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression sympathetic. 

“I guess the confession session is now over, huh?” 

She eyed him pensively. 

“No…not really. As long as we’re playing the reveal game, there is a _major big reveal_ before things go any further,” Maya muttered; her gaze on the ground. “I don’t want to waste my time or yours any further without laying all my cards out on the table. I don’t know how much Mildred told you about me or how much background information reading you managed to do, but there is something very important you need to know. I am not a woman without baggage, Longines. I come as part of a package deal and am not available to be purchased separately.” 

“I suspected as much.” He nodded understandingly. “Would this have anything to do with your cousin, Pearl, and why she reacted so adversely upon finding out that you’ve placed yourself on the marriage market?”

“That’s just it, Longines; she isn’t merely my cousin, she’s _my little girl.”_ Maya looked him squarely in the eye. “We grew up together as sisters, but I’ve been raising Pearly, as her legal guardian, since she was 8-years-old. She’s essentially been my daughter for the past 7 years and although I didn’t birth her, I couldn’t love her any more than if I had. The child is the most important part of my life; a part of _me_. I know it’s a huge cross to bear for any man, dealing with a woman who’s essentially a single mom, but better I tell you this now than later. There’s no use pursuing things with someone who cannot, or _will not_ , accept us both.” 

“I understand. Pearly is a lovely girl, and I’d welcome the chance to get to know her better if she’d let me.” Longines shook his head ruefully. “But that may be a challenge since she seemed to loathe the very sight of me!” 

“Oh, that has nothing to do with _you_ , or who you _are_ ,” Maya assured him, a note of amusement creeping back into her voice now that it seemed he wasn’t about to make tracks upon hearing such a major caveat. “It’s who you’re _not_ that’s the problem – it’s because you’re _not_ my ex. Pearly was very attached to him, you see. He took her under his wing like a father after she lost her mother.” 

“How simply awful!” Longines gasped. “Did her mother pass away when she was just a little girl? Is that why you wound up raising her with your ex?” 

“Aunt Morgan's not dead, no. However, Pearly's overly ambitious, scheming mother is serving a life sentence in prison for not only once, but _twice_ trying to have me killed.” Maya flashed a wry smile. “I’ve decided to take it personally.” 

Longines let out a horrified shout of laughter at that one, shaking his head in mock despair, as Maya continued. 

“As for Nick, he was around as a paternal figure for two years full-time when we lived with him, but then he was still in her life even after we moved back to Kurain. Hence, he’s the only father she’d ever known, which is why she’s taking our split so hard.” Maya took a deep breath and tried not to let her voice break. “Pearly really loved him, as though he was her real father. She thought one day we’d wed and he’d adopt her.” 

“Mr. Nick,” Longines stated quietly. “That lawyer you worked with, he was your boyfriend, wasn’t he?” 

Maya nodded miserably. 

“Am I right in assuming that this split was fairly recent then?” 

“Not even two months ago,” Maya professed helplessly, her expression pained. “I’m sure you know what became of Phoenix Wright six years ago if you’ve done your homework as extensively as you say. The elders – they _hated_ him. They thought a disbarred lawyer was beneath a woman of my stature and kept telling me to forget about him, to let him go. Nevertheless, even now, when it’s finally over, I ask you, how am I to do such a thing? It's all part of me. I can't let go of the pain without losing something sacred. The good memories keep me going and the bad ones make me want to curl under the duvet and never come out again, but they are locked tight together like two sides of the same coin.” 

Her eyes flooded with tears then. 

“The three of us… my little girl, Nick and I ... we were a little family, Longines. He’s hurt me so badly … yet I can’t ever badmouth him to Pearly, because it’d be like I was trash-talking her _father!”_

“This Nick… _he’s_ the reason you agreed to be set up for an arranged marriage, isn’t he?” Longines asked softly, discreetly pulling a handkerchief from his bag and pressing it against her knuckles, which she accepted gratefully. “Because he hurt you so badly, you didn’t want to bother trying to look for a mate on your own, based on love.”

 _“Never again!”_ She whispered fiercely, wiping her streaming eyes. “Plus, it’s a cultural expectation thing, a longstanding tradition. I only agreed to it when Nick and I broke up because it’s the only way I’d ever have agreed to any of this – if the stakes involved _didn’t_ include my heart.”

“So what _are_ you looking for in a marriage then?” He enquired benignly. “A sort of a mutually beneficial, joint business venture, of sorts, but no emotions involved? Sort of like a couple of _androids_ dining together and having nights of perfunctory conversation?” 

“I don’t sound too desirable now that I’ve laid it out on the line do I?” She sighed mournfully. “But at least nobody can accuse me of harboring overly idealistic or unrealistic expectations. Surely you can respect my candor if nothing else?” 

“I can, Maya and I do,” he assured her gently. “I rather think I like that about you. Moreover, I think I like _you_.” 

_“Seriously?”_ She gasped, eyes round with disbelief. “Does that mean – you actually want to pursue _this?_ You and me, I mean?” 

“I’m not proposing immediate matrimony at first meet or anything,” he replied, his full lips twitching with a wry smirk. “This isn’t the Dark Ages! However, yes, I’d like very much to get to know you and see where this goes. Why is that so shocking to you?” 

“B-because I just told you that I probably won’t ever love you!” She burst out. “And because you’re a rich, good-looking guy who could have anybody he chooses! Why in the world would you even agree to such circumstances and forgo the option of a truly loving marriage? Why would you want to take a chance on an emo headcase spirit medium, who is raising someone else’s turbulent teenage daughter as her own, and who is too damaged to offer you anything you’d want in a _real_ partner?” 

“You’re not the only one with familial obligations and expectations, Maya,” Longines sighed then as well, and flopped down onto the grassy hillside, lightly tugging her by the hand so she sat down beside him. “My late father’s last desires were for me to produce a legitimate heir, and _I_ have no desire to go against a dead man’s wishes. Besides, being a constant jet-setting mogul can get lonely at times. I have three residential and two vacation homes around the world, all empty. I would welcome having a friendly companion in my life, to be by my side, to help fill that void sometimes. Someone who could also be a willing escort to my countless work affairs and engagements that my business and charity ventures dictate.” 

He lifted his lips into a half-smile then. 

“Besides, when a man my age is an unattached bachelor for too long…people start to _assume_ …certain, ah, _things_ about him, if you catch my drift. Things that having a pretty, feisty, kind-hearted wife, who has her own business engagements to keep her equally as occupied, could help squelch, with the occasional appearances on my arm, if you know what I mean.” 

“I think I get what you mean…” she said carefully. “But Longines, you _do_ understand that I have nothing to offer you, except my friendship…and companionship, don’t you?”

“And I said I _liked_ you Maya, nothing more, nothing less. We’ve only just met, and I have no idea where the road ahead will take us. But I know I’d like you to be by my side for the journey.” Longines was direct and to the point. “I’m not going to promise that I'm going to be the next great love of your life, any more than I can expect or count on you to be mine. But I _can_ promise to be your ally, companion, and defending champion against Mildred and these dreaded elders of yours, as well as a friend to you and your little girl if you allow me to be.” 

The psychic’s hunched up shoulders sagged with relief as the full understanding of it all came over her then. It was going to be alright. They were on the same page after all. 

“Just out of curiosity, though … _is_ there any ah, validation in those assumptions people may occasionally have, Longines?” 

There was no right or wrong answer as far as Maya was concerned. She would actually prefer it if such _were_ actually the case – that meant she would never need to worry about another man touching her, _ever_ again – which suited her just fine. The thought of anyone else’s hands on her body made her skin crawl. 

“Well, I guess that question will answer itself the more you get to know me.” Longines shrugged in response. “In the meantime, believe what you will. Only time can verify or dispel any preconceived notions and answer all your questions, right?” 

He stood up then and pulled the petite beauty back up to her feet, still clasping her hands warmly in his as he regarded her with an earnest expression. 

“But what I would like you to know is _this_ , Maya Fey. I am a very wealthy man, so I have no interest in your bank account. I find you to be incredibly beautiful, with that glorious hair so thick, cascading down your delicate skin like midnight waves on a sandy beach, and I selfishly hope I can one day convince you to be a Beaugosse Salon hair model. I know you’d make not only great arm candy but one hell of a MILF if it ever comes to that point.” 

Maya blushed slightly. She was genuinely flattered by this handsome man’s obvious admiration of her physical appearance, but at the same time, was uncertain how she felt about being naught more than a trophy escort of sorts. Surely, there was more to her to value than just her physical pulchritude? 

As though reading her mind, Longines smiled indulgently and went on explaining the reasons for his interest and pursuit. 

“Moreover, Maya, I find you warm, witty, and engaging. You obviously have a heart the size of a football field to dearly love another woman’s daughter as your own, and evidently, high tolerance and patience to have put up with the likes of Mildred this long. You stuck around with a disgraced lawyer when the world told you to turn your back on him, so obviously you’re very loyal. You’re a public figure as well, so no stranger to being in the media. And being the heiress of the honorary Fey clan means that you are well reared and bred – not to make you sound like a pedigree! There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t find these desirous traits in a partner. I am no exception.” 

“Thank you, Longines,” Maya smiled bashfully. “I think you’re kind of awesomesauce myself! Hey, you don’t like _The Zappy Samurai: Electric Bugaboo_ by any chance, do you?” 

“I was a _Steel Samurai_ fan as a kid,” Longines chuckled good-naturedly, as though inquiring about children’s TV shows were a perfectly normal thing for a grown woman. “Unfortunately, I am unaware of any spinoff shows that followed it. Plus, traveling as much as I do, I don’t get too many opportunities to sit back and relax with classic shows from my youth, as much as I’d love to.” 

_Oh well. Pobody’s nerfect, right?_

“For the record, _I_ for one, am totally over the _Steel Samurai,”_ Maya sniffed disdainfully. “That silly kid's show is totally yesterday’s news, hence my move onto _greener_ Samurai pastures! By the way, did you know that I helped inspire that show’s spin-off, _The Pink Princess_?” 

“I did not! Tell me about that.” 

The two chatted some more for a while, getting to know a bit about one another’s likes and dislikes. To Maya’s great relief, Longines had no concept of going Dutch, zero interest in anything hemp-related, smelled delightfully fresh and clean, and while he thought hunting was barbaric, he admitted that he liked his steak and burgers as much as the next guy. However, he hastily added that he did try to balance out his red-meat inclination with regular jogging and a vegetable smoothie daily for breakfast. 

As they exchanged more trivia and information about one another, the two both realized that they didn’t mind the odd glass of white wine on special occasions, even though it was the unsophisticated cohort to the more heart-healthy red, as it didn’t tend to give them headaches. Also, it turned out that they had a shared allergy to dark chocolate but not milk chocolate, and they both were avid watchers of Disney movies and live theatre plays. 

“I still can’t get over all this bountiful greenery around me!” Longines exclaimed, spreading out his arms and twirling about as he began to sing. “My heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds…That rise from the lake to the trees…My heart wants to sigh like a chime…That flies from a church on a breeze…” 

“ _Longines_!” Maya began giggling maniacally. “This isn’t _The_ _Sound of Music!”_ She covered her mouth to smother her giggles as the blond man spun around like the Julie Andrews character and continued to warble out the words to “The Hills Are Alive.” While as agile and light on his feet as any professional dancer – he’d told Maya he’d taken both fencing and ballroom dancing lessons as a boy – his singing voice was similar to the caterwauling of the doomed pianist at The Borscht Bowl, Willie Effastop. “And you are _not_ in Austria!” 

_What is it with good-looking blond men who can’t carry a tune in a basket?_ She wondered amusedly. _That suits me fine … the last thing I need is another lark crooner whose voice sweeps me off my feet, anyway!_

Longines suddenly stopped in mid-whirl, his platinum curls somehow falling perfectly back into place as he did so, as though an idea had just occurred to him. 

“Lovely Maya,” he said grandly, taking her hand and bowing over it in an exaggerated fashion. “I have a proposal for you, though I swear not the indecent or matrimonial kind.” 

“Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to have to shoot you down so soon after the past couple of fun time hours,” she deadpanned. “What’s on your mind?” 

“I realize this is crazy short notice but I didn’t plan on you being as incredible as you are,” Longines admitted. “Or that I’d take to you like a duck to water! However, after today, in a sennight, I need to go away for a few weeks to Europe. I’d hate to abruptly halt our fledgling … courtship, friendship, or what have you. I’d love to spend more time with you and get to know you better. Therefore, I was wondering... How would you feel about coming with me?” 

Maya was dumbfounded by the unexpected request. She gaped at the hair heir in surprise, having no idea how to respond.

“I’m asking you to come with me, on _my_ dollar, of course, as nothing but my friend,” he said quickly, wanting to clarify matters right out of the gate. “Normally, I have an assistant who travels with me on these extensive trips but is simply too busy attending to business matters relating to their restaurant to accompany me this time. Rest assured, I intend to ensure this is an entirely chaste trip for us both, with separate sleeping quarters. Have you ever been to The Continent?” 

“Just once,” Maya replied dazedly, still feeling as though she was in a crazy dream where everything was happening at lightning speed. “About eight years ago, Nick and I went to England on some sort of Legal Exchange program for a fortnight.”

“What a coincidence! My very first stop will actually be in London, to oversee a brand new chain of salons opening in the area. You’d be free to explore the sights while I tended to matters in the day, and then we could dine together in the evening, check out plays, museums, whatever you want to do!” Longines’ eyes were sparkling with excitement and promise. “Maya, please say you’ll come.” 

“I – don’t know…” She began hesitantly as she mentally started to run over her list of events and obligations for the next month. “It’s such short notice … and I have my Master's responsibilities…” 

“My pretty, what’s the point of being a rich man, with the entire world at his fingertips, if he’s alone and has nobody to share it with?” Longines pleaded. “ _Please_ , allow me to make you part of my world. To show you this big, wide world we live in, which will be all the more magical if you were by my side…”

He stopped speaking then, and a broad grin broke over his face as he suddenly reached over, grabbed her by the hand, and began waltzing her about while singing at the top of his lungs.

* * *

 **_I can show you the world  
_ ** **_Shining, shimmering, splendid  
_ ** **_Tell me, Pink Princess, when did  
_ ** **_You last let your heart decide?_ **

* * *

“Longines!” Maya threw her head back and laughed as he continued gliding gracefully along with her, expertly twirling her about. “You're such a nut!” 

Undaunted, the billionaire continued his serenade in his endearingly, off-key voice, made only tolerable by the light on his feet style of dancing.

* * *

 **_I can open your eyes  
_ ** **_Take you wonder by wonder  
_ ** **_Over, sideways and under  
_ ** **_On a private jet plane ride_ **

* * *

**_A whole new world  
_ ** **_A new fantastic point of view  
_ ** **_No one to tell us no or where to go  
_ ** **_Or say we're only dreaming…_ **

* * *

“OK!” Maya gasped, tears of mirth running down her face now. “Okay, you win! If I agree to this, will you please cease channeling your inner _Aladdin_ and stop singing?” 

"If I do, does that mean you'll come?"

"Yes! Like I said, I'll come! Wild horses couldn't keep me away!"

Longines’ comely visage lit up.

“Seriously? You’ll come? On my magic jet plane ride? You _really_ mean it?” 

“I mean it!” Maya affirmed, her eyes shining. “It’s absolutely crazy and impetuous and my calendar will be crammed with catch up conferences and meetings that I’ll have to reshuffle, but heck, what’s a couple of weeks away in the grand scheme of things, anyway? I can't remember when I last traveled strictly for pleasure and not for some sort of business!” 

“Maya Fey, you’re _wonderful!”_ He gushed. “This will be _so_ much fun! Moreover, I meant what I said about having no dishonorable intentions towards you when I asked you to accompany me as my dear companion. In fact, I would even be open to, and actually encourage you, to even bring along a chaperone of your choosing, to further ensure your comfort … heck, you could even ask Mystic Mildred!” 

_“Over my dead body!”_ Maya blurted out, then clapped a hand over her mouth and grinned sheepishly. “Er, that is, no, that won’t be necessary. I have a little girl, remember? She’s like a ready-made lady-in-waiting for instances like this, so this will be just terrific!” 

“Pearly?” Longines’ smooth brow furrowed with concern. “Do you think she’d agree to come? I mean, feeling about this whole thing as she does … you don’t think she’ll be too sore at me?” 

“Nonsense!” Maya laughed delightedly, clapping her hands. “I am over the moon about going back to London! I have a wonderful, world-famous archeologist friend there who I cannot wait to look up! And Pearly’s going to get over her little snit pretty quickly when I explain that you and I are just friends. Besides, she’s never been to Europe! This will be a whole new world for _her_ , too!”

“This is going to be the journey of a lifetime!” Longines crowed, grabbing her hand again and spinning her about once more as he resumed singing the song. "Sing along with me, Pink Princess!"

This time, a giddy and merry Maya joined him in singing the lyrics. 

* * *

**_I'm like a shooting star  
_ ** **_I've come so far  
_ ** **_I can't go back  
_ ** **_To where I used to be..._ **

* * *

As they laughed and danced well into the evening, Maya felt the first beginnings, at long last, of her battered heart finally beginning to mend. 

_When Nick first left, I would describe my heartache as like an insatiable fire that burnt all the oxygen in my body leaving me listless and empty. But now it is more like a thin layer of ice, cooling my insides, a gentle reminder of the pain that came before and a warning not to stoke that fire again. They say once bitten, twice shy, but I think for me it's more like forever shy. I can't see myself putting my heart out there again, I don't think it can survive another inferno. But this…this deal he’s proposing…I could agree to this. I can be, if not a traditional lover and partner, a friend, a travel companion. Arm candy at festive, snooty soirées if need be. As long as neither my body nor heart is required, what’s there to say no to?_

* * *

**_Pearl Fey and Iris Hawthorne_**  
 _Hazakura Temple_  
April 26, 2025, 7:15 PM

By foot, the trek up to Eagle Mountain from Kurain Village took the average person about half an hour. 

For an avid sprinter like Pearl Fey, especially in her emotive state, while on a mission, the trip took no longer than twenty minutes, after being somewhat placated by the well-meaning Mystic Matilda. 

“Mystic Pearl! Long time no see!” Sister Bikini boomed, beaming warmly at the spirit medium. “But what brings you to our frigid air mountains, when springtime brings warmer airs to your village? It's also when a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love! Hoh hoh!” 

_Thoughts of love indeed! That’s **exactly** why I’m here in the first place!_

“It’s nice to see you again, Sister,” Pearl replied politely. “The reason I’m here is to see my sis- er, that is, Sister Iris. Might I speak with her please?” 

Years of docile mannerisms and respect for her elders were what kept the teen from asking the kind woman if she could please see her adoptive daughter, the _home-wrecking hussy!_

Although Maya had installed both into Kurain for the past six years now, Pearl continued to be amazed by the whole new world of colorful phrases she had learned – but had rare opportunities to use! – from cable TV and the internet! 

“Why so formal?” The nun grinned. “Iris _is_ your sister, after all! She’d be delighted to see you! Let me go fetch her!” 

“ _Half_ -sister,” Pearl muttered darkly behind the shrine maiden’s retreating back. “And most definitely not by _my_ choice at all!” 

A few moments, Iris Hawthorne appeared, back in her customary shrine maiden garb but minus the white hood, so her long black hair flowed freely down her back and around her ethereal visage. Her huge doe orbs, so like her half-sibling’s, were wide with astonishment as she set them on the younger girl, whose unreadable expression, while not fully hostile, was not in the least friendly, either. 

The shrine maiden swallowed nervously as she flashed an uncertain smile.

“I guess Sister Bikini wanted to surprise me when she told me I had an unexpected visitor,” Iris’s soft-spoken voice ventured timidly. “I had no idea who it could be, other than perhaps Feenie. However, of course, seeing my little sister is a _much_ welcome and pleasant surprise! What brings you here, today Pearl?” 

“My quest for the truth, Sister Iris,” Pearl replied sweetly, even as she affixed her icy, determined eyes on her sibling’s suddenly anxious ones. “And what a coincidence - it’s regarding a subject you have _expert_ knowledge on - your darling _Feenie_!” She nearly gagged on the word. “I’d like to ask you some questions _, dear sister_. I want some honest answers. _And I want them now.”_

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walt Disney's Aladdin - A Whole New World


	91. A Bullet Fired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Words are weapons used to create words that are hard to heal. You can’t take back a bullet fired once it’s already left the gun. Such is also true with cruel things that leave your mouth, so try to hold your tongue."

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 28, 2025, 5:15 AM

Franziska jolted awake, heart thudding in her ears, drenched in a cold sweat. Her breathing was rapid and shallow as she sat there in her little section of the king-sized ocean of sheets that she and Miles had resumed sharing for the past two months, while she stared into the darkness and tried to calm down.

She’d mostly gotten over her previous grudge regarding the Lana situation after the loss of Carol. In the grand scheme of things, it was such a trifling matter in the end – or so she’d needed to convince herself – and had let Miles back into their bed. Ever since the fateful day when she’d finally allowed him to comfort her and wept in his arms at their daughter’s graveside, she’d found some a bit of solace in his embrace and sought the reassurance of his presence, even though things still weren’t quite the same between them.

In the past two and a half months since the tragedy, Miles had remained dutifully and unwaveringly by her side, undaunted by her incapability of saying much to him, and the fact that her eyes, whenever they met his concerned, saddened ones, were essentially lifeless and empty.

Nevertheless, even though she sensed his uncertainty in what the right thing was to say or do, Franziska still found Miles’ company next to her on the bed each night was a much-needed comfort. Especially because nearly every night since, she suffered from plaguing, tormenting, horrific dreams which would result in her waking up, panicked and screaming and trembling like a leaf as Miles would jolt awake and envelope her in his warm clasp.

“Shhh… _meine Dame_ , it’s alright,” he’d always whisper, stroking her hair. “It’s OK, I’m here. You’re safe now. It was just a nightmare.”

Asleep or awake, it didn’t matter. All of Franziska’s thoughts were stuck on one image, the one of the lifeless little form of her daughter that the Doctor had handed her, after two grueling hours of labor. That tiny life, the one that she and Miles had created, was no longer a life at all; it was just an empty shell that she would never know.

 _Riddle me this: how can I call it a nightmare, if it doesn't leave my presence when I awake?_ She yearned to shout back in response.

Be that as it may, she couldn’t make herself utter these words aloud. After all, as Katharina had reminded her repeatedly, she couldn’t be so selfish in her grief. It had been Miles’ loss too. Moreover, he was holding on, silent and strong as always, trying to be the pillar of strength for both of them.

And so, she would nod mutely and allow the sound of his steady heartbeat to lull her back into uneasy slumber yet again.

Right now, as she sat up in bed, Franziska struggled to sort through the fuzziness of her mind from her latest dream – the first in ages not to be some sort of night terror – and clear her head.

From the carousel of random and vivid dreams came some order - a subtle awareness of who she was under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to her waking life. After a few moments more, she began to analyze them in a hazy way, thinking perhaps those ideas were meant to be kept. Some were composed as though from a book she’d read, some were just silly. In another moment, they were gone, leaving no trace. If they were still in her head, there was no breadcrumb trail back to them.

Her eyelids flickered open in the unlit room. No daylight. She tried to close them again, willing the carousel to return, for her mind to tumble back to the dreams, but it wouldn’t. Now the rest of the hours of the day loomed ahead, demanding she think about them, find solutions, get things done by day's end. She was awake and there was no retreat.

Heart pounding, she stole a glance at the pointless alarm clock, glowing red, and reached out to turn it off. Once upon a time, 6:30 in the morning had been a rude awakening; now it was an impossible target. It would take at least a week of vacation to get there...

A vacation. Things to do. What laughable notions. She’d not worked in over two months and the empty endless days and nights stretched before her, with no end in sight.

_The world outside teases me with its silence; everyone and everything sleeps, save the owls. Time is marked only by the numbers changing on my bedside alarm. It was long ago that the last of the daylight left my bedroom and it will be hours before it creeps back again. I can only hope that in the meantime I am not aware of every second of every minute. My mind is constantly regurgitating the worries of the day, the tension of tomorrow, the agonies of yesteryear. Yet I have no new or brilliant solutions to offer, I can only do what I have always done- take each day as it comes._

Franziska looked over at Miles, his slumbering form as immobile as a mountain. She faintly smiled to herself and reached out to touch him, but then she stopped herself. As her hand neared closer to the love of her life, the terrible memories flooded back in: the sudden pain, the hours of labor, and… _ugh_! She slumped over, burying her face into her knees.

Memories were the soul torturer of the woman. She couldn't escape them, or hide from them; they were the worst kind of monster.

She feared what her past held, all the memories that seemed to never escape her. They were pinpoint needles, piercing her skin. She couldn't scream or fight back, she had to just endure the pain as the picture of her baby’s face, and other demons from her past flashed through her mind.

She had experienced pain before, including the time she’d been shot, but nothing had ever amounted to this.

Her heart was as barren as the moors on a desolate winter morn.

The vivid recollections of the labor pain was a prison for her mind. In that jail cell of fear and confusion, the time had passed without her being able to keep track. Her stomach had tightened, as though a ball of searing, poker-hot knives were within, and she heard her own screams without being aware of making them. She’d tried to lay still as the medications were administered, waiting for the agony to subside...

She could neither hide nor run or fight them. Her memories were indeed her worst enemy and the thing that would most likely destroy her.

Looking back now, she did her best to forget those torturous moments as effectively as formatting a hard-drive, and instead recall the love she’d felt for her baby, her precious child, one created in perfect love, now gone forever.

Now Carol was a child of God’s kingdom, a heavenly angel, alongside Franziska’s mother and her sister, Manfrieda.

As much as she wanted to, the _Frau_ could barely even bring herself to cry anymore, she could shudder, she could even whimper, but tears just wouldn’t come forth anymore. Now, all Franziska could do was analyze and try to make it from one day to the next.

While the tears weren't even halfway done, the anterior prosecutor was completely empty. She couldn't have cried even if she wanted to. She hadn't experienced this feeling before. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore – now it was empty unhappiness. The kind she didn't think would easily lift. Even if Miles had surprised her with the cutest kitten on earth, a playmate for Pess, she wouldn't feel a thing, and would merely stare around her as though in a pit. Her surroundings were the same, but they gave her no emotion. How could that be? She needed emotion to experience being _alive_ , to feel joy, to fill the void. Yet it seemed that she was doomed to remain incapable of feeling anything anymore.

That foolish fool Shi-Long Lang had tried to console her when the news had reached him. He started by telling her something that Lang Zi had once said, as he often did in sorry scenarios such as hers, and then he bluntly got to the point.

Franziska could remember his words as clearly as she could remember the color of the sky. Lang had sighed as he stared her down, as she weakly lay in the hospital bed.

“Here’s the deal, Agent von Karma. I’m here now, not as your Interpol boss, but as your friend. As a federal agency, it is our job to ensure that all of our agents are in the proper physical condition to do their duty…”

She could only bring herself to nod as Lang continued to speak what was probably the most prepared statement ever constructed, and clenched her fist harder and harder around her sheets as the Wolf Man continued.

“…but, I digress. We offer our deepest condolences for your …tragic loss and wish you a speedy recovery from your – Caesar – ah, your surgery. Also, we humbly offer to pay all of your medical bills. We _insist!”_

Miles spoke up from his depressing slump in the chair in the corner of the room.

“Thank you, Agent Lang, your generosity means the world to us in these harsh times.”

Lang nodded and turned to leave, but then gave the German woman one last, solemn look.

“I don’t want to see you back around the office for at least two months. Are we clear, Franziska?”

Franziska would have normally admonished such sentimentality, but she meekly nodded her acquiescence. 

“Understood.”

“You will be missed, Agent Von Karma…” Lang’s voice trailed off uncertainly then, and he coughed uncomfortably. “Please let us know about the … _arrangements_ as soon as you’ve got the details.” With that, he left, leaving Detective Badd alone with the couple.

The burly man regarded her with somber dark eyes, his normally shuttered mien rife with sympathy.

“Get well soon, kid,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat awkwardly. “And please, let me know if there’s anything we can do at all.” Then he followed the Wolf Man’s path out the door.

Franziska sat there, brooding, as she grappled with her thoughts. She knew that Lang and Badd had only wished to help, but she couldn’t process how they thought time off would fix anything. At the same time, she didn’t know how, when or if she’d ever find the inner strength – she was now fully _physically_ healed from the Caesarean – to ever leave the house, never mind go back to work again.

She hadn’t left the mansion or had any contact with the outside world since the funeral, save for her sister.

The numbness of her loss had passed, and suddenly, the pain once again hit her out of nowhere, doubling her over, racking her body with sobs.

 _Where are you, Carol?_ She cried out in her mind, just as she had countless times these past few months. _Where have you gone?_

Of course, there was never any answer.

Franziska curled up into a ball, hugged her knees, and dropped her desolate head down upon them while her agonized mind continued on the same treacherous treadmill of memories, from which there seemed to be no escape in sight, about her precious daughter.

Would there _ever_ be an end to the awful images? The anger, the sadness, the constant thoughts of what could’ve been, rushing through her head?

The former prosecutor solemnly glanced over at Miles, giving her longtime lover a longing stare. She wanted so desperately to reach out, to touch him again, but…the fear was too strong. She didn’t want to have _that_ happen again, she didn’t want to make another mistake.

She didn’t want to lose another baby.

Franziska silently sighed. A few times in the last week or so, Miles had hinted about wanting intimacy again, but each time his soft lips had so much as brushed hers, horrific thoughts of another miscarriage inundated her mind and she froze, stiffening like a rock, and turned away, so that he’d had no choice but to reluctantly let her be.

She felt so terrible for her fiancé; he wanted so desperately for them to be intimate, to love, and make love once more, but Franziska just couldn’t find it within herself to do it. So now, her lover, a person she had known for most of her life, was still distant from her as ever, and she had no idea how to bridge that gap.

_My heartache has wrung me out until I am dry inside, no more tears will come. My insides still feel as raw as if a winter wind was blowing right through my skin. The last conversation haunts me, taunts me, replaying like an echo. My appetite has dwindled to nothing. I keep the curtains closed so that I won't have to witness life going on as usual. How could it when my world has crumbled?_

There were times Franziska felt like the universe was slowly disappearing in front of her. Alternatively, maybe it was just _she_ who was fading away – figuratively as well as literally.

Try as she might, and no matter what tempting dishes Helga would offer her, she couldn’t bear to eat more than a few bites of anything, as all food tasted like sawdust in her mouth. As a result, she’d unexpectedly dropped all of her excess pregnancy weight, plus some. Miles had worriedly noted that she was even thinner now than before she’d gotten pregnant, but Franziska just couldn’t find it in her to care about these things. Nothing mattered anyway. Who was there to see her? What did it matter if she was now barely more than skin and bones on the outside?

_Because my empty burning lungs and my heart are hitting my chest so hard, I think them breaking my ribs and ripping apart my skin are the only things I care to think about. In addition, there's that empty chasm; that hollow cavity. The black hole in my head, deep inside my soul, slowly swallowing all my hopes and dreams. That's the worst of those moments. The realization of the vacuum, the nothingness, the absurdity of my existence. These times awaken me at five in the morning and make me wonder: what am I living for, anyway? Maybe for me, maybe for others. Does it matter? And when I can’t find my answers, from my mind, from my dreams… the anxiety turns into panic._

Franziska knew she was going to lose her mind if she sat there with her thoughts another minute. However, she didn’t want to awaken Miles, who was slumbering so peacefully, so she silently slipped out of the bed and slunk into her smaller, adjoining study in the next room, carefully closing the connecting door to the bedroom behind her. Her fiancé had stayed up with her most nights she couldn’t sleep and had faithfully remained by her side while she’d been off work. She didn’t want to rouse him – he needed his rest. After all, he couldn’t stay off work forever. There was only so much leeway Lang could give them, after all…

She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. Miles _should_ sleep. He deserved it. He’d been a great partner to her – perhaps even better than she deserved. Especially after what she’d said to him…

 _Stop it, Franziska. Don’t torture yourself with words you didn’t mean to say!_ Her heart wept plaintively. _You were pregnant, hormonal, angry…he knows you didn’t mean it!_

How did others make it look so easy in connecting with another human being? It was like no one had ever told them it was the hardest thing in the world.

 _That’s no excuse!_ The logical part of her mind cried. _You told him that the baby was the **only** thing keeping you together, Franziska Von Karma! The **sole tie that binds** you together! Yes, he’s still with you now after the fact, because he feels sorry for you, but for how long? After saying such a venomous thing to him, truly, what’s keeping him with you? From running off to Lana? Or just leaving, period? What makes you think his moral obligations are enough to keep him around? That **you’re** enough, especially after the way you’ve behaved? What makes you think you’ll **ever** be enough?!_

If she kept listening to these contradicting voices much longer, she’d surely go mad.

_There it goes again, my inner dialogue, but it's not my friend. It whispers to me, "Everything has gone wrong, it's terrible, no way back, disaster, ruin..." The world seems to be closing in on me and the air becomes murkier, harder to breathe in. A glossy sheen coats my eyes that wasn't there before, and my thoughts scatter like there's an electrical storm in my head, with too many short-circuits to make any sense. All the while, the only thing that comes through is "You’ve failed, it's over, you’re hanging onto a tree with dead roots…time to chop it down and stop prolonging this misery…"_

She gave her head a firm shake, and then quickly turned to her computer, frantically scrolling through some personal emails she’d been neglecting for some time. One, in particular, caught her eye, and a soft smile formed around her lips when she saw the unexpected sender. Before she could have a change of heart, she quickly fired back a quick reply, responding to the requested information, then sat back in her chair.

_That may just be what the doctor ordered! A most unanticipated surprise, and a welcome distraction. Miles will be pleased as well, I’d think!_

Franziska busied herself replying to a few other emails and idly went to a few sites of particular interest, happy to distract herself from her thoughts, and when she glanced at the time on the computer, she was startled to realize that she’d been online for just over an hour. It was 6:30 now. Daylight was beginning to creep through the blinds.

_I need to get back to bed. Maybe I can squeeze in another hour or two of rest by Miles’ side before he wakes up for his morning run. Perhaps just lying next to him, feeling his presence, will quell my nerves from earlier. And maybe…the time has come for us to try to talk about what’s been happening between us, which he’s tried so hard to do all those months ago, and see if we can salvage this dying tree, so it can flourish and grow once again. Assuming I’m not too late…_

Franziska scrunched her eyes tightly shut against her stinging lids, trying to drown out her tormenting internal monologue.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye  
_** April 28, 2025, 6:25 AM

Miles felt rustled from his deep slumber by the sudden vibrating sound of his cell on his bedside night table. Quickly, not wanting to awaken Franziska, he grabbed it and pressed the talk button, brushing his long fringe out of his face while he did so. As he said hello into the phone, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and cast a glance over his shoulder, fully planning on taking the call in the next room, but saw that her side of the bed was empty. How odd. The bathroom door was wide open so where could she have gone?

Frowning with unease, he sank back down on the bed and was startled to hear Lana’s voice on the line. He hadn’t seen her since the funeral and had only exchanged a small handful of emails, checking in to see how he and Franziska were faring, ever since.

“Hi, it’s me. I know it’s early,” Lana began apologetically. “But you know I wouldn’t be calling you unless it was important.”

“It’s alright, Lana. What’s going on?”

“Lang contacted me. It’s about the operation, Miles. He can’t stall things any longer – things have already been setback longer than anticipated. He wants us back and on the case, as soon as possible.”

The logic genius rubbed a hand over his face. He’d known this day was coming – even though Lang had said they could have a few months, he also knew that business was business and that the Agent had hoped he and Franziska wouldn’t _truly_ need to take it – and thus he’d been dreading it, too. As much as his heart continuously ached when he thought of his stillborn daughter, Miles welcomed the distracting reprieve that work would offer him to help thwart the painful memories.

However, his fiancée was a different story. Never before had he ever seen the formidable Franziska Von Karma so frail, so lost. She’d, at last, collapsed her barriers and let him see her vulnerable side, and they’d finally started to reconnect; console each other after all this heartache. And now he was being called away just when he knew she needed him most…

“How soon is _soon_ , Lana?” He asked wearily, although already knowing the answer.

“ _Yesterday,_ if Lang had his way,” she replied with a groan. “But realistically, tomorrow, or the day after. He’s not going to try to coerce Franziska to return until she’s fully ready to, but you and I are to meet Jilly and Carlos at HQ, have them freshen up our alter-ego makeovers again, then we’re right back in that saddle!”

“This won’t do!” Miles exclaimed, even though he knew he was barking at the wrong tree. “I won’t just up and leave Franziska at the drop of a hat! I can’t just do that Lana. It’s not that easy!”

“I hear you…” she replied hesitantly. “But…”

“Franziska's still a wreck, and she’s been leaning heavily on me. I can’t just go like that – I’d need to give her some notice.”

“ _We_ _need you_ , Miles.”

“My fiancée does too! I _know_ she needs me, and I’ve already hurt her so badly in the past…”

“I know, and a lot of that was _my_ fault, as well,” she acknowledged remorsefully. “Miles, a part of me still feels so guilty about the rift that came between you because of me! You have no idea how much I yearn to turn back time and undo it all.”

“So can’t you see how it’s entirely too cruel for me to just leave her like this?”

“Miles…”

“Surely _you_ can try to understand?”

“Of _course_ I do, Miles,” Lana sounded mournful as she spoke. “I _hate_ the part I’ve unwittingly played in all this heartbreak, just as much as I loathe that _I_ had to be the one to make this phone call.”

“It’s not your fault,” Miles sighed. “This isn’t about you and me in the least – I’d not want to leave her side even if it were for charity purposes! Franziska is so vulnerable right now. She’s wasted away to practically nothing. I fear she may be suffering from some sort of postpartum depression on top of everything.”

“Isn’t her sister a psychologist? Couldn’t you talk to her about this? Get her opinion?”

“Katharina was here for a good month afterward, and also was worried she’ll fall apart. But she’s so obstinate, I’m not sure she’d be willing to accept any sort of help in that regard.”

“Miles, I’m sorry about all this strife, but what do you want me to tell Lang?” Lana asked helplessly. “Should I tell him that you’re unable to continue with the operation and need to be replaced? That you’re not coming back?”

“No, I won’t ask you to do such a thing.” Miles raked a hand through his hair. “I knew this day was looming…it was only a matter of time. However, while _I’ve_ been consciously aware that it’s been a long time coming, Franziska hasn’t really been in the right sort of mind to pay heed to time. She’s got a strong work ethic, and would probably encourage my return at some point, but she probably wasn’t expecting this so soon, even though for Interpol it feels like forever.”

“It’s going to be different this time, Miles,” Lana warned. “We are going to be out there a minimum six months, trying to get to these cocoons while we try to pick up where we left off and hope Ku can still make good on his promise. Nevertheless, we may have to start from scratch in our dealings with him to prove our interest is still keen after all this radio silence, or go a new route entirely. This is going to be rough. I need to know you have my back. Because it’s going to be just you and me, thrown to the wolves, fending for ourselves out there. I can’t do this without you.”

“I can’t do this without you, either,” he admitted. “But there are few people I’d trust more than you to look out for me on that minefield. You have my absolute word, Lana, we’re a team, you and I.”

“Thank you, Miles.” She sounded relieved. “Tell me then, what can I tell Lang? When should I say we’re back in action?"

“Well, first and foremost, I need to advise this latest change to the love of my life and hope I can make her understand the underlying factors here. We’ve always been very supportive of one another’s career ambitions – but the part about us being so deep undercover, and unreachable for so long, that’s what I’m worried about. She may not take this well.”

“So you’re going to let me know what’s up once you’ve talked to Franziska, then?”

“I’ll save you the middle man duty and contact Lang myself,” Miles assured her. “But I do need to first speak to my fiancée before I commit to any dates. She’s the most important person in my life, and I owe her this.”

“The things we do in the name of justice,” Lana sighed. “This is the kind of thing you read about in spy novels or see in James Bond movies; these sorts of dangerous life and limb situations. It’s a dirty job, but _somebody’s_ gotta do it, right?”

“I know what you mean. I feel the same way. These smugglers are destroying so many lives…and someone needs to put a stop to it. I’ve always done my best to get to the truth, and make sure that I fulfill my life’s mission so that someday, our children will have a safer world to grow up in.” Miles chuckled ruefully. “In my case, it’s not what I _want_ to do; it’s what I _have_ to do.”

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 28, 2025, 6:35 AM

As she placed her hand on the heavy wooden door, Franziska realized she could hear the slightly muffled sounds of Miles’ voice on the other side. When had he awakened?

He appeared to be on the phone with someone. She could only make out snatches and snippets of the conversation. She hated herself for eavesdropping but felt compelled to remain still and listen for some reason.

“I can’t just do that Lana. It’s not that easy…”

 _Lana?!_ Franziska’s heart went into a tailspin, as all of her insecurities came flooding back to her at the mere mention of the other woman’s name. What was _she_ doing calling Miles this early in the morning?!

“…. need to give her some notice…. She needs me…too cruel to just leave her like this…try to understand….This isn’t about you and me…Franziska is so vulnerable…worried she’ll fall apart…it’s been a long time coming but she probably wasn’t expecting this…Can’t do this without you….we’re a team, you and I…make her understand…I _owe_ her this…”

Franziska’s heart sank. It seemed she was too late after all. This was her worst fear. That she had killed whatever precious love he’d had for her, and that without the baby as a key factor anymore, he had no reason to stay by her side anymore, save for his obligatory morals. He was trying to spare her because he knew she was vulnerable. Well dammit, she was a Von Karma! She didn’t need his pity! If her words, her actions had uprooted that dying tree and it was about to fall dead anyway, so be it! She would deal with the consequences of her actions like a grown woman and end this torture!

_The love I have for you, Miles Edgeworth, it can't end until my body ceases to function and my soul is released for whatever comes after. I hope that somehow it is embedded into my soul and that at the very least, **mine** will eternally endure. Even on my darkest days, my love for you had ridden underneath it all, keeping my mind from sinking into the mire that claimed me in the past. I’d always known that however deep I feared I'd fallen into the darkness that you would be there, as you have been all this time; the solid ground to steady me, giving me time to climb back into positivity. But if such is no longer the case, I’d rather you slap me with the bitter truth that your heart has moved on, rather kiss me with a lie any longer._

Loudly clearing her throat as she opened the door then, to make her entrance known, Franziska pushed the door ajar and found Miles sitting up on the bed, raking his fingers anxiously through his hair with his free hand, with the other clamping his cell tightly to his ear. A pensive frown marred his brow as he listened intently to whatever Lana was saying, and still didn’t seem aware of her existence behind him in the bedroom, as he was so engrossed in the conversation.

“It’s not what I _want_ to do, it’s what I _have_ to do…”

Swallowing painfully upon hearing those words, Franziska coughed slightly, to alert him of her presence, and Miles’ head shot up then, his eyes wide with astonishment.

“I’ll call you later, Lana,” he said abruptly into the phone, then rung off.

Franziska ensured her expression was neutral as she studied his handsome face, which wore a look of intense consternation at the sight of her.

“ _Meine Dame_ , when did you get up?” He asked worriedly. “I wasn’t sure where you’d went – if you’d left the house or just gone downstairs, but when I woke up, you weren’t here…”

“I could not sleep,” she answered guardedly. “But _you_ were sleeping and I did not wish to disrupt your slumber yet again, so I decided to check some emails. When did you awaken?”

“Just now,” he replied, his concerned eyes scrutinizing the weary lines on her drawn face, as he appeared to be struggling with his next words. “I was woken up only a few moments ago by that phone call from Lana…”

His voice trailed off then, as he studied her but her countenance belied nothing.

“I see,” was all she said back in response. _“And?”_

Miles expelled the breath that he appeared to be holding in his lungs.

“Franziska, it appears that Lang can’t stall the sting operation any longer. There’s already been a huge setback due to…well, anyway, he wants me to come back to work. _Immediately_. That was why she called.”

“Oh, is that all?” Franziska forced herself to smile slightly. “ _That_ was what had you looking like so apprehensive, Miles? Don’t be foolish! Of course, you need to go back to work. There is no need to beat around the bush. The operation got halted because of me. I am well aware of this, and I refuse to be the albatross around Interpol’s neck a moment longer. If Lang says you need to go, then you should go! I – I am sure my return shall not be too long afterward. I assume the Wolf Man said nothing about expecting _me_ to give an anticipated return date?”

“Well, no…” Miles was visibly struggling with how surprisingly blithe she was being with what he’d imagined was upsetting news. “Lang is most understanding about your plight and wants you fully healed and recuperated before you resume your duties. But as for Lana and I … Ku was headed back to Borginia back in February and was going to give us the name of the cocoon dealer, but our inside source has indicated he’s gotten impatient with our silence, and we may need to restart from scratch in the process of buttering him up once more. Alternatively, we may need to seek another lead to the source entirely. Nonetheless, we need to act fast, and now.”

“That sounds about right,” she returned breezily. “You are a great undercover agent, Miles, as is Lana. I have no concerns over your combined talents as a team to set things back on course with Ku or find a more reliable alternative route. I want you to go with my blessing!”

“Franziska, I don’t want to leave you when you’re like this,” Miles protested, not looking at all placated by her words. If anything, he looked even more weary and anxious. “I know your stitches have healed, but you’re still not eating or sleeping properly…”

“I am a grown woman, Miles, and I do not require a babysitter.” Franziska was adamant. “There is a house full of servants to tend to me if any need arises, so you need not…worry about that as a factor to force you to be here any longer.”

 _“Force?”_ Miles echoed, looking stunned. “ _Meine Dame_ , you’re not a _chore_ to me – you’ve _never_ been. How could you even suggest such a thing?”

“Forgive me, _Liebling_.” Franziska shrugged. “I shall blame the early hour for my unprecedented lax vocabulary. _Forced, obliged, bound to me_ ... the phrasing is not relevant here! What _is_ important is that you are an investigative prosecutor on a top-secret Interpol mission, and _that_ is your first and foremost duty now. You have back burned it long enough on my account. Lang has been surprisingly saintly about this whole matter, what with us both being off of the case this long – we are lucky he has not tried to replace either of us! I shall contact him myself about my situation when I am ready, but in the meantime, duty calls. Believe me, I completely understand.”

“Franziska, I don’t think you do.” Miles seemed slightly pained now. “This isn’t the same as before – we’re going in deep undercover, and we need to make up for the lost time. There’s no pressure on when _you_ can come back and join us, of course, but I don’t know when _I’ll_ be back. That’s what I’m trying to convey to you. I’ll be gone for quite a while this time around. We’re talking half a year at least, easily. Lana and I may be clandestine by that point that there’s a strong chance that whenever you _do_ decide to come back as part of the surveillance team, I may not see you, even then!”

“So _that_ is your primary concern, _Liebling_? Because you do not know when we shall be seeing one another again?”

Franziska somehow managed to conjure up a light laugh, even though the words _Lana_ and _deep undercover_ made her grit her teeth behind her affixed placid expression.

“Surely a man with work ethics such as yours cannot be hindered by such foolish sentiments! As I said, I am a grown woman, and surely, this is not the first time in our lives we have been separated. Why, there were _years_ that passed between us without seeing one another, like when you left me…” She coughed slightly. “What I meant to say was, when you left… to go to the States. Er, to become a prosecutor, do you not remember? I survived without you back then, and rest assured, I will survive this time as well.”

“That was different, Franziska,” he reminded her. “We still kept in contact and I still came back home to visit during the holidays. This time, I may not be accessible as easily, which is why I was wrestling with deciding without first speaking to you.”

“And I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but it is unnecessary, I assure you,” Franziska stated stubbornly. “Like I said, I will be fine. My sister is only a train ride away, I have Helga hovering over me, waving my favorite meals like a flag to tempt me with, and … I just got an email from an old friend, who may be coming to visit me in a week or so. Pity you will not be here, but I shall have my hostess duties to keep me occupied, as well. It is about time I rejoined the outside world, is it not?”

“This is good news, _meine Dame_ , although I must say, I am surprised by this complete turnabout of yours…” Miles said slowly, studying her expression carefully. “Are you absolutely _sure_ you’re alright with this? Because I don’t want you to feel that you have to put on a brave face, Franziska…”

“Miles, I refuse to speak about this another moment!” She declared, lifting her chin. “I have lived without you _glued to my side_ in the past, and I will do so again. I am a survivor, I am an adult. Moreover, I am a Von Karma!”

“That you are, _meine Dame_. That you are.” Miles gave a soft chuckle of admiration then and rose from the bed, coming to stand before her and placing his hands on her shoulders. She stood there somewhat stiffly, although her eyes were locked on that beauteous visage, silently trying to memorize every inch of it to the confines of her memory as she internally wept on the inside that she was losing him yet again, more than likely for good this time.

“I’ll think of you every day, you know that, right?” He lifted her chin with his finger and looked deeply into her eyes. “Out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, _meine Dame_. And when I get back, I’m hoping that perhaps you and I could try again to have another –”

“One thing at a time, _Liebling_ ,” she said quickly, not wanting to hear offers or promises that were never meant to be kept and babies that were never going to be had, just for the sake of saying them. “Let us deal with the immediate situation first and foremost, before we discuss things that are further down the line, shall we?” She forced another smile even as she fought back her tears.

“As you wish.” Miles leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “But that was our dream, Franziska, and I don’t want you to give up on it. I look forward to making it a reality when this is all over. Now, I’m going to take a shower and give Lang a call. Try to get some sleep in the meantime, alright?”

She nodded mutely, closing her eyes to breathe in his familiar scent one more time as she savored the sensation of his lips, trying to instill them into her permanent memory, to tide her over until the day she would never see him again.

 _Please do not go!_ Her heart cried silently, achingly. _I need you so badly, Miles! I beg you, please stay by my side! In my heart, I retract all the bad things I ever said! They were never a reflection on you, only on my inner demons. You worked hard and I only saw what you could not do. In that permanent fatigue you must have wrestled with, trying to put up with my inexplicable moods and cruel words, how could you ever have stacked up to be the husband **Cosmopolitan** magazine said I should have? In my misplaced entitlement, I gave you only passive-aggressive rage, I withdrew to punish you and became self-absorbed. Now you will be gone, fled to another who gives you hugs instead of cold stares, acceptance and not demands, respect, and never condemnation. I can never hope to win you back and I do not deserve you, but every day I pray that she treats you well, that you know all the happiness I never gave, that you make back those wasted years we shared. I wish you could remain by my side, that I could make amends, that it would be me you will be snuggling after dark. I have grown; I have learned about what honestly matters. But not soon enough for us._

Even so, these were all words her Von Karma pride would never allow her to say out loud. Besides, the die was cast. What would be the point?

The cruel voice in her mind rang in to taunt her, torture her. To further rub salt into the wounds.

_I am your worst nightmare. I will listen to your worst fears. I will understand what makes you tick. Then I will control you like a remote-control toy. I will start you out with small tasks you find distasteful and work you up to doing and saying things, horrible, unforgivable things of which you never dreamed you were capable. Why will you do all this for me? Because I will dangle the illusion of fulfilling your dreams…of **love** , before you, and even let you get close enough to **almost** attain it. Then I will just ask you for **one more little thing** , to prove your devotion of course. When you have become the person your old self would have loathed beyond all others, I will disappear. Why? Because that is the end of my game and you mean nothing to me. Just as in the end, you meant nothing to Miles. He is going to leave you behind yet again, and this time, he has got Lana. And he is **never** going to look back._

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, the silver-haired woman dropped down on the bed and sat there, still, with no strength to move. Her shaky fingers finally came to a stop after running restlessly through her messed up hair as she bit down on her lip, trying not to weep like an infant.

_Stay strong, Franziska. Crying is not going to help, it is not going to change anything. You know that as much you want to blame Lana for this inevitable outcome, it is just as much **your** fault as well. Your jealousy drove him away, and since he is only a man, of course, he would succumb to her wiles. There is no use feeling despair over something you saw coming from the moment he first set eyes on that woman almost a year ago. Have your life lessons, your history, taught you **nothing** , you foolish girl? No one woman is **ever** enough for any man. What made you think **you** were any different?_

Despite her mind’s efforts to look at things matter-of-factly, her aching heart wouldn’t stop racing fast, and Franziska, at last, gave in to the flood of tears that had built up within her from the moment she’d heard the words on that phone call.

_He is never going to come back. His body has been with me, but his heart has moved on. He always winds up leaving – he has for all my life. This time though, I understand. I get it. In the end, I was not enough. I have never been enough…_


	92. Tangled Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life asked Death: Why do people love me, but hate you? Death responded: Because you’re a beautiful lie and I’m a painful truth.”

**_Franziska Von Karma and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
January 1, 2004, 3:00 AM

Franziska was jolted from her sleep by the first familiar rumbles of a storm brewing from the living room. Manfred's booming voice seemed to shake the walls. It was quickly echoed by the shrill tones of her mother, Wilhelmine, which electrified the air. Pulling her head under the pillow, she waited for the storm to abate.

There appeared to be no end in sight to this night's battle. Their voices rose. Frightened tears stung the child’s eyes.

The little girl lay trembling in her bed, tiny hands clamped against her ears, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she unsuccessfully tried to drown out the sounds from the dreadful scene unfolding one floor below. Even in a manor as large as this, Manfred's bellowing reverberated in her ears like a clap of thunder, such was his rage. She heard the more muffled, almost mewling sounds of her mother's soft, pleading voice, completely being drowned out against her father's roar of pure anger, like that of a ferocious lion, rearing for the attack.

It wasn't the first time in her life the six-year-old had heard her parents shouting at one another. The fights would usually last no more than half an hour to an hour at most – one time Miles had timed it, just to satisfy her curiosity because she'd claimed it felt like _years_.

The rows would usually result in Manfred storming out, leaving her mother behind whimpering in a trail of her defeated tears. Then, whenever he did return, often not for _days_ later, Papa would come and sleep in one of the guest rooms until he was able to charm his way back into the Master chambers, where he'd always be welcomed back by his kind-hearted, overly-forgiving wife.

How Franziska desperately wished that her big sister was there so that she could escape to the comfort of her soothing embrace and seek solace in her room. However, no, as the years went by, Katharina had been spending more and more time away from home during the holidays. Save for Christmas Eve and Day, the teenage Von Karma, whenever home from boarding school, usually opted to stay at a friend's place otherwise. Ergo, she was spared the increasingly frequent, often frightening shouting matches, when things were usually at their worst – particularly during the holidays when Papa was home more often, and consequently, so would increase the frequency of the arguments.

Therefore, it was only Franziska and Miles who got all the details they never wanted to know, who, what, and where... The next day passing Mama and Papa in the hallway was excruciating, with them both wearing plastered on smiles and Franziska and Miles not knowing where to put their eyes.

She supposed she should be grateful _this time_ , at least she wasn't in the same room – or the same floor! – As her parents. As much as Mama would beg Papa not to fight in front of the children, his rages knew no bounds, and even if, in the privacy of their chambers, the arguing came right through the walls as loud as any TV show.

Very rarely could she make any sense of logic to the arguments. If Miles was ever able to do so, he never did share the knowledge with his "Big Sister," despite her repeated demands that her "Little Brother" do so at once! Instead, whenever another evening loomed ahead, when the two children would be forced to listen to them bicker, he preferred to silently wince, and then turn his face away, feigning interest in whatever oil painting was on the nearest wall or something that caught his attention in the closest window.

For the most part, they agreed to disagree with one another, but such was the urge to score points that each honed in on the tiniest of differences. They would nitpick and grind away until there was a chasm they just couldn't bridge. Then the Von Karma patriarch would storm out to his club, leaving the mother of his children to fill her ears with soothing reassurance. Minna was always assuring her that she needn’t fret and that all couples fought but rest assured, Mama and Papa still loved one another fiercely. The painful lie was something Franziska always desperately tried hard to believe, even though it grew increasingly harder and harder to do so.

The shouting grew even louder. Curiosity outweighed her fear, and she tiptoed out of her room then, and to her surprise, she found Miles out in the hallway as well, still in his pajamas, and poised by the railing upstairs, peering over it and craning his neck to catch a glimpse of what was transpiring downstairs in the room beneath them. She crouched by his feet, opening her mouth to ask him what he'd heard thus far, but he placed a finger to his lips, silencing her.

A steady stream of German expletives tore at her ears then, both from her mother and father.

 _"Schweig, du Miststück!"_ Manfred commanded furiously. "Would you have the neighbors be privy to all this! You're not worried that your craziness will wake up the children _this time_?"

" _Sprich nicht mit mir, du verrückter Mann_!" Wilhelmine screamed. "Obviously, you don't give a damn about me or the children _,_ based on your actions this evening! How _dare_ you humiliate me in such a manner! I have turned a blind eye to your liaisons for many years now, Manfred Von Karma, but no more, do you hear me? You have the nerve to drag me to a New Year's party at _your_ old schoolmate's home, and then disappear forhours, leaving me alone in a room full of strangers I barely know – only to be found cavorting with that filthy _Hure,_ Irmgard upstairs in the guest bedroom, while I am within the same building? Along with countless other witnesses!"

"I was doing no such thing!" Manfred shouted back. "Your sick and suspicious mind is finally getting the best of you, Minna! It's these delusions which are causing those headaches you are always complaining about, nothing else!"

"Oh, I suppose you shall claim it was a sudden one of my headaches which caused me to see things tonight then? The pain caused me to merelyimagine the image of finding the two of you _betrunkenen Arschlöcher_ in the guest room, with your nearly shirtless body on top of that _schmutzige Schlampe,_ and your hand down the front of her gown!"

"If you chose to misinterpret the scene you feel you witnessed, Minna, then that is no concern of mine," he answered tersely. "You would take the word of others over your husband, you fool?"

"The hostess was at my side; so it's not just mine eyes that you would claim to have been deceived!" She shrieked. "Do you not care whatsoever how you've shamed me in front of our friends with your lecherous, lurid actions tonight! The guest's tongues will never cease their malicious wagging after hearing of this sordid tryst!"

"What those simpletons choose to think of me is of no consequence whatsoever! If you wish to buy into the mindless gossip and believe everything you hear that is _your_ problem and _you_ will learn to solve it!"

"Forget what I have endured and heard; the pitying looks and whispers of the servants and mutual acquaintances when I'm in town! You are asking me to disbelieve my own _eyes!_ Would you have me believe that you were trying to search for her lost contact lens down her bodice, _du Hurensohn!"_

"You would be wise to watch your mouth, woman!" There was an ominous warning note in Manfred's voice. "You best remember that I am the man in this house, and your husband, therefore you will show me some respect and know your place! Regardless of what you _think_ you saw; I owe you _nothing_! I do not need to answer to _you_ or anyone else!"

So much damage was done when the couple argued. Every mean thing he'd thought but knew better than to say came flooding out. He was every bit as ruthless and merciless with his wife as he was with his courtroom rivals. Much like when he saw hurt or devastation in his opponent's eyes, or in those of the mother of his children, still, he never backed off, only dug deeper, like a hunter at the first sign of blood. So when he unleashed his wrath on his wife, all those around could scarcely do more than hold their breath, knowing she was simply too vulnerable to withstand his heat.

Minna's voice trembled, and the tears were evident in her voice, as the fight seemed to drain out of her then.

"How has it come to this, Manfred?" She whispered brokenly. "Where have I failed you as wife these past twenty years? Tell me what I have done so that I am not enough for you, and you have chosen to whet your appetites elsewhere. Your dalliances all this time, I had chosen to pay no mind to, as long as you came home, came back to me in the end, and your indiscretions brought no shame nor pain to this house and our children. But _this_ … this newest level of disregard, of disrespect! To so remorselessly be dallying, paying no mindful heed that your _wife_ was within proximity – and under the same roof, yet! Pray tell, what have I ever done to endure the need for you to succumb me to this sort of public shame and humiliation?"

Manfred didn't reply.

 _Shame?_ Franziska wondered, feeling both bewildered and anxious, as she finally was able to pick up on one of the few words that stood out amongst all the screeching. _Dallying_? _Tryst_? She would need to look into the meaning of those words later! Wide-eyed, she glanced at the stupefied Miles beside her. Somehow, she sensed, as she looked at his disturbed face, that inquiring to _him_ would only lead to a dead-end!

She felt sad because her Mama was so sad, but was also confused. _Why_ would her Papa have his hand down another lady's gown? _Why_ would he even need to _look_ at another woman when he had her beautiful Mama at his side? Surely, Mama _had_ to have misunderstood what she had seen! She waited, fervently hoping her Papa would tell Mama she was wrong, that _she_ was the only one for him, but still, he remained silent, unmoved by the agony that was evident in her voice.

"Manfred, you have gone from being my protective knight in shining armor to the monster of my nights, and as time goes on, even during my days, you are the same. There are times I cannot tell the nightmare of my reality from the fiction of my nightmares."

Uncaring of her husband's continued lack of response, Minna continued to speak, her voice breaking and fraught with tears now.

"Sometimes there are clues that I only catch in retrospect: the house is different or you have developed supernatural powers. It doesn't matter at all, that you continue to beat me down by carrying on in this manner. With nonchalant ease, you crush every ounce of self-worth I glean, failing to disguise how delighted you are to deal with your favorite blows, in the form of your actions and words. The _others_ … they compensate for you, for whatever it is I am lacking; they are like irresistible candy to you. You didn't choose me to love or cherish, but to whip and destroy. For some time now, power and malice have been your drugs of choice that light you up inside with a sickly glow that shines in those languid eyes as you look at me now, void of any emotion, and you do not seem to care that all this is slowly _killing_ me, day by day. Killing _us."_

Instead of answering, Manfred stormed out of the living room and into the main hallway, headed towards the front door, which was directly underneath the stairway. If he so much as looked up right now, he'd see his adoptive son and youngest daughter, and in his current state, the consequences seemed alarming. Quickly, Miles and Franziska drew back from the upper hall railing in fright, hiding within the shadows, so they could hear but no longer see.

Minna came running after him, the sobs in her voice unmistakable now.

"Where are you going?" She wept. "Why will you not answer me?"

"I am going out. I shall return when you have come to your senses and are no longer at this level of histrionics," he replied coldly. "I have no desire to contend with your mindless, hysterical accusations or attempts at guilting me any further, not to mention the crippling headache I'm sure you will claim to be suffering from shortly after all is said and done! Goodnight, Minna."

"No!" She cried, clutching impotently at his sleeve, even as he tried to swat at her and shake her free, in the same manner, one would try to shoo away a pesky fly. "Please, do not leave! We need to discuss this further! I will _not_ have you dismiss _this_ – dismiss _me!_ – so readily this time, _Sie herzlos Saukerl!"_

The prosecutor's fuse simmered and fizzed like a firework in a chilly autumn breeze, and in an explosion of unrestrained fury, Manfred's arm drew back.

"Minna, I warned you about minding your tongue and speaking to me like a common _Metze!"_

While they had scurried too far back from the railing to witness it, both children heard the appalling cracking sound of a hand striking flesh, followed by the heavy thud of Minna's head snapping back with the force of the blow, causing her to reel sickeningly as she slammed back into the wall behind her.

A chill ran through Franziska's spine as she heard her mother’s piteous cry of pain. It made her shudder, feeling as chilled as though she were caught in a freezing wind. Her blood ran cold and a bead of sweat dripped down her face. Reflexively, she made a move to bolt down the stairs to her weeping Mama, but Miles grabbed her and held her back, shaking his head violently and pulling her quivering form against him, a hand firmly clamped against her mouth to stifle her whimpering as they sat there helplessly, not knowing what to do and too scared to even think.

Cradling Franziska's head against his chest so his hand purposely obstructed her view below, Miles dared inch forward a tad to look down at the current scene below.

Manfred's face was mottled crimson, his eyes popped, his tree-trunk neck strained. His words were spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of machine-gun fire as he rattled off something harshly in German while he bent over his wife, who was still slumped against the wall.

Wilhelmine Von Karma was a frail, ethereal beauty of slight build and stature, with peaches and cream skin and long, ash blonde hair that she usually wore in a low bun behind her nape, which only accentuated her huge, long-lashed amethyst gray eyes, inherited by both her daughters and delicate features. Even from the distance above, Miles could make out the angry crimson mark from the slap, and just below her eye, a small cut where Manfred's huge signet ruby ring had caught her. She staggered backward, trying to get away from her husband, whose expression was like that of a possessed madman as she clutched her cheek, her beautiful eyes watering.

He loomed over her menacingly, without a trace of contriteness at the sight of her ashen face as he leaned closer, perfectly composed and uttered just three words, "I don't care."

She remained as still as a cadaver and just as pallid, unblinking against his onslaught. Then with a barely concealed smirk, he turned on his heel walked away from her and out the door, as if strolling in the park on a fine day.

Franziska cried herself to sleep that night.

It wouldn't be the first time. Moreover, it definitely wouldn't be the last.

* * *

 ** _Franziska Von Karma and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
July 14, 2006

The 15-year-old Miles apprehensively glanced at his piano teacher out of the corner of his eye as his shaking hands fluttered across the keys of the baby grand in the music room at the mansion. Gretchen nodded encouragingly from her spot by the window, where she sat in one of the great, big wicker chairs, legs neatly tucked under her and hidden from sight.

Today her hazelnut hair, which tumbled into perfect curls on her olive shoulders when down, was woven into a braid, nothing fancy, just to keep the sweat out of her soft hazel eyes, which regarded him with a knowing expression, sensing his nervousness. The older woman, who was in her late 20's to early 30's, always had an air of calming serenity to her, which never failed to put the young man at ease. She looked down at the music book in her lap, following along with his keystrokes as she read the musical notes of the song he was playing and Miles couldn't help but marvel how delicately her eyes seemed to follow those pages. How elegantly her fingers would stroke the words.

He wasn't able to admire his instructor of half a year while reading the music and playing piano simultaneously, and he hit a painfully off-key note then, the loud sound echoing in the large, airy room.

She finally caught him staring, and Miles dropped his gaze, all rosy cheeks and tongue-tied, knowing she'd seen right through his lie when she knowingly asked exactly _what_ was making him so distracted from his lesson that day.

"Nothing," he murmured, turning his head down so his long bangs fell forward, to hide his burning cheeks. "I apologize; I think I am just having an off day."

The German woman smirked to herself as she sipped her coffee and took in the appearance of her pupil, who was mostly void of all traces of boyhood and just teetering on the cusp of manhood. Still so innocent, and wholly unaware of his appeal. She liked that the most.

From her seat, it would appear if she were staring out of the window behind him if her gaze was caught straying from the songbook in her lap. She took in his developing muscles, the clean-shaven square jaw, and tuned into his voice. It was as deep as a man's now. He smiled with ease and made fluid arm movements to exaggerate his buoyant speech. He was going to be a heartthrob when he was older, that was a given. He had that Clarke Kent air about him, the dark hair, and intense eyes, minus the glasses – intellectual, studious, strong. In another five years, her age might hinder her, but at 32, she was still a good-looking woman and one with money, made from marrying well, to a workaholic husband who was never home. She closed her hand around her mug, feeling the warmth, taking in deep drags on the rich, aromatic scent. She wanted him. Not for keeps, of course, just to play, and she _always_ got what she wanted ... one way or another.

Stretching like a cat, Gretchen rose from her seat and strode purposely towards him, leaning down so his face was at eye level with her gardenia-scented cleavage, aptly showcased in her white cotton sundress.

"It is not your fault, Miles," she purred, running a predatory talon up and down his shoulder while unknownst to them both, a silent Franziska watched enviously from around the corner. "I blame the piano. When is the last time Manfred had this tuned?"

"I – I'm not sure," Miles mumbled, staring at her as though hypnotized, but not seeming to mind in the least as Gretchen's caress grew more bold, moving from his shoulder to his hair, idly pushing one long lock away from his face so she could see if more clearly and tucking it behind his ear.

Franziska scowled. She hated how freely the older woman seemed to be with her "Little Brother" and always made some sort of excuse to touch and stroke him as though he were some prized pony! The worst part was he didn't seem to mind in the least – and she didn't even know him to be a very "touchy-feely" kind of person. He tended to stiffen slightly even when her Mama, Katharina, or Franziska would go to hug him, although he would always readily return the gesture after a moment's hesitation.

The girl loved hugging Miles. He was so tall now that whenever she did, her head only came up to his chest, and she liked the scent coming off his shirt; he always smelled so…fresh and clean. Besides, it felt _nice_. How was it this strange woman didn't stir that awkward expression on his face like they all did?! What was her secret?!

"How about you come over to my place this evening," Gretchen offered, flashing a sultry smile as she idly ran her finger down the side of her student's neck, down to his collarbone. "You're an apt pupil, Miles. You just need some extra lessons and a chance to work on your _finger play_ a bit more. And I have a _much better_ instrument you can practice on over there."

"Um, sure OK … t-that'd be great," Miles stammered, blushing furiously now but making no move to stop the woman's roaming fingers as they trailed over his chest. "B – but what about your husband? Won't he be distracted from his work since you said he spends most of his nights in his office at home?"

"Oh, don't you worry about old Diederich, _Lieber Junge,_ " Gretchen breathed, her eyes filled with meaningful promise as they devoured the handsome young man. "He's out of town at an accountant seminar. So there will be nothing there tonight to distract us at _all_."

Franziska clenched her little hands into fists. There was something … _different_ about the way this woman looked at and touched her _Brüderchen._ It much more different from the way Katharina and Mama did – although she couldn't put her finger or _what_. But she knew she didn't like it.

_Not one little bit!_

* * *

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Konigsfeld im Schwarzwald, God's Acre Cemetery, Germany_  
June 11, 2007

A benign but inoperable, deeply embedded brain tumor had turned out to be the cause of all the debilitating headaches that would leave Minna Von Karma faint, weak, and in unspeakable pain for days on end.

The matriarch’s headaches hadn't been because she was being dramatic or a mere sympathy ploy at all. Franziska discovered Mama had known for some time. Papa had, too. Neither had told their children since there was nothing that could be done but await the inevitable.

 _Stay strong, Franziska,_ Manfred had commanded roughly, his eyes betraying no emotion. _Big girls don't cry._

Therefore, the girl did not shed even a tear, even though her soul had cried a river.

Franziska didn't need to cry. The hundreds of people at Minna's funeral, from the local butcher to the housemaids to family and friends all cried enough for her.

Wilhelmine Von Karma had been a beautiful person, both inside and out. As soft-spoken and kind-hearted as much as her husband had been gruff and hardened, she was genuinely mourned by all who'd known her within her short life. She only 38-years old when she died.

Franziska cast her eyes to the freshly dug soil. Mama was down there and God had taken her. What the _hell_ did He need her for? The priest said God had ‘called her home,’ with a dopey look on his smug face, making her fantasize about rearranging his features by the business end of a shovel! Her riding crop would simply not suffice in this case!

_Mama already had a verdammt home and curse Gott, for taking her from us! When I get to heaven, I will whip his ghostly Arsch all around the verflucht place and burn down the pearly gates!_

What was left now for her? Katharina was already off at school, getting her Ph.D. Then, in the New Year, she was set to wed her high school sweetheart, Günther. His parents had already purchased the future Mr. and Mrs. Rudolf their new home, thence ensuring the elder sibling would never again be returning to the manor. All she had remaining was Miles, who was trying to keep a stoic front beside her but couldn't mask the tears of sorrow sliding down his cheeks. He'd known Franziska's mother since he was 9-years-old. From the moment Manfred had brought him home, Minna had warmly and lovingly accepted Miles as her own son from that day onward, never making any distinction between him and her daughters. On top of that, she'd been the buffer between Miles and her often stern, if not downright cruel, husband. Now she was gone and both Franziska and Miles would have to fend for themselves against Manfred.

"Look at that _gefühllose Schwein_ ," a disapproving voice murmured behind the grieving girl, glaring contemptuously at Manfred, who was standing at the other side of the burial plot, hands thrust in his pockets, head down, not speaking or making eye contact with anyone. "I have seen more warmth from statues! Damn ne'er-do-well cannot even pretend to shed a tear for that angel. The man has ice and a barren cave where there should be a heart and soul. She was too good for him, I tell you."

"I know. The poor thing was in so much pain near the end," another voice, a female's, whispered back. Franziska recognized it as Helga's, the head housekeeper at the estate. "But she always had a smile on her face and a kind word for everyone. She was a faithful and loving spouse until her last breath."

"The same could not be said for that scoundrel she was ill-fated to be wed to," the first voice, a woman's, hissed. "Everyone knew what he was up to on those so-called business trips of his. Got his knob polished with any _Schlampe_ that would blink twice in his direction, the brute! He could try to tell you he had his needs when Minna became too frail and sick to fulfill them near the end, but mark my words, that man was never faithful for even five minutes to that saintly woman."

"Minna was not only beautiful, but she also had a heart of gold, she truly did," Helga sniffled. "I do not know why she was never enough for _das uneheliches Kind_. The heartache of knowing she was married to such a philandering rogue was what _really_ did her in, mark my words."

"It makes me wonder about the capriciousness of nature that allowed _that_ man," a contemptuous sniff in Manfred's direction. "To have ever been graced by that heavenly creature."

Although Franziska was only nine now, she was as precocious as the day was long. She understood _everything_ that was being said around her, regarding her mother and father.

She just didn't couldn't believe it – _wouldn't_ believe it! No! Her brilliant, proud Papa was a man of many faults – domineering, temperamental, an overt perfectionist even – but not a cheater! She knew a couple of times he'd drank too much and struck her Mama, but he wouldn't have been unfaithful! Why would he be?! A man who'd had Minna Von Karma for a wife had had _everything_. She refused to pay mind to this mindless servant gossip!

One thing was certain though. Her mother _had_ been a saintly angel she was posthumously being heralded as, and Franziska didn't know how she was going to move on without her.

Without Minna, the Von Karma mansion was merely a house, but not a home. Not when it was just Papa.

Papa, who didn't even know how to break a smile or utter a word of kindness.

Papa who found fault in every goddamn little thing and wielded his meaty hands like the raw hunks of meat they were.

Papa, who was already tucking into the liquor and screaming at the servants to buy his preferred tobacco for his cigars.

Papa, who only knew how to push Franziska and Miles to follow in his illustrious footsteps and become prodigal prosecutors and overachievers but never offered them any praise for their achievements, only punishment for what he deemed to be failures.

Franziska was still a little girl! She shouldn't have to grow up without her Mama! Her Mama was supposed to be there to give her the talk about what to expect when her body became a woman's – maybe she'd even have had some insight on her daughter's conflicting thoughts about her "Little Brother," which she still didn't quite understand but somehow sensed were not just merely _sisterly_. Mama should be brushing her hair and taking her dress shopping for the next school dance and telling her how pretty she looked. But most of all, Mama should be there to hug her goodnight and kiss her before Franziska left for school.

Now she would miss out on all that.

Now there was just a graveyard, a stone that bore her name and soon only Mama's cold bones beneath the soil.

Franziska had always been agnostic, but now she put all her faith in God to care for her Mama and reunite them when her own life was done. Nothing and nobody that good could simply disappear; Minna was waiting, looking down on her, and smiling. She could _feel_ it.

_God had taken the wrong damn parent._

She kicked at the soil beneath her feet, feeling the only love she'd ever known in all her life drain right through her shoes, and slowly being replaced by ice.

* * *

 ** _Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
September 19, 2007

Miles had just completed his piano lesson for the day and dashed upstairs to shower before dinner. Gretchen was in the middle of gathering up the sheets and books in the music room when suddenly, out of the blue, Manfred appeared, as if out of nowhere, his expression murderous.

Franziska, who taken a quick break from her studies and had been hoping to sneak into the kitchen to steal a quick snack before dinner, had had to pass the room on her way back upstairs, but not wanting to be spotted, quickly ducked behind the wall pillar, her heart pounding.

" _Sie schmutzige Hure_!" Manfred shouted at Gretchen. "How long has this been going on! How long have you been taking advantage of my adopted son?!"

Rather than sound flustered or embarrassed by the accusation, Gretchen merely crossed her arms across her ample chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

"The boy is the age of consent, Manfred. He's 16 now," she drawled, unperturbed by the hateful disdain on his face, and the tenseness he wasn't even trying to mask. However, she did back away slightly so she was out of arm's reach, although nothing about this was making sense, not his curling fists or the anger that radiated from his skin. "So if you wish to get technical, nobody has taken advantage of anybody here."

"Aren't you going to ask me how I came upon this knowledge, which I notice you aren't even denying?" He demanded harshly.

She shrugged. "If you wish. I know the boy wouldn't have been foolish enough to tell you, so I'm going to assume you snooped around until you found some sort of evidence to back up your claim? That is what you lawyers thrive upon, isn't it? Conclusive proof?"

"I found _this_ scented note in his bag!" Manfred gripped a sheet of lilac stationery in his clenched fist. "You've been secretly giving him private lessons in your home, without my knowledge or consent, and using it as an excuse to … _lure_ him into God knows what sort of deviant acts! _Last night was fun, Liebende, tonight I'm going to show you how to tickle more than just those ivories?_ Is there any way this is being taken out of context?"

"Not at all," she replied easily, even as she coolly regarded him with mounting visible ennui. "It is exactly as it seems. I have had relations with Miles that have extended beyond the mere teacher/pupil dynamic, and he has been a most delightful, keen, and _willing_ study, with no coercion on my behalf whatsoever!" A sultry smile played upon her lips. "Although I have no idea why this bothers _you_ so, Manfred?"

"You're a married woman, you _Schlampe_!" He barked, crumpling the offending paper in his hand.

"My husband and I have an _understanding_ , of sorts," she shrugged, her indifference as clear as day.

Franziska felt positively _ill_ as she heard this. So, she _hadn't_ been imagining the inappropriate spark between Miles and Gretchen! This… _harlot_ was _married_ and had been having adult relations with her teenage brother?! It was despicable! Did marriage vows mean nothing to this _Dirne, Prostituierte, Schlampe?_

"It does not need to include the members of this house!" Manfred roared. "You are an immoral _Ehebrecherin_ who has been taking advantage of a grieving teenage boy who just lost the only woman he'd ever known as a mother, merely a few months ago!"

 _Shame on you, you horrible, vile woman!_ Franziska added silently.

"Now, now, Manfred." Gretchen sounded downright coy. "You never _thought tw_ ice about me being an adulteress before _now_ , did you?"

Manfred seemed shocked into momentary silence.

Franziska was confused now. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Why had Papa stopped giving her hell?!

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't make Miles a man after the unfortunate passing of your wife," Gretchen informed him loftily. "This has been going on since last year. But of course, all good things must come to an end. He's gotten to be a very good pianist, and if he keeps it up, he could even be a professional. There's nothing left for me to teach him." She flashed a saucy wink. "Not on the _piano_ , anyway."

"Get out of my house!" Manfred thundered; his face puce now with rage.

"I guess this means you have no desire to pick up where _you and I_ left off then?" She asked with mock disappointment. "Such a pity. Although if it's worrying you that I would favor his ah … _performance_ unfavorably to yours…rest assured, you're still the master with the talented fingers, Manfred. Although, a few years and few more lovers later, no doubt Miles could give you a run for your money…"

"Get out of my sight!" Manfred slammed his hand on the piano with such clanging force Franziska wondered if he'd broken it!

No longer interested in hearing Gretchen's reactions, her heart thumping, she dashed silently up the stairs and stopped on the landing, trying to catch her breath.

She peeked over the top railing, watching as the German woman casually strode out the front door, as though nothing had transpired whatsoever. A few moments later, Manfred stalked out the front door as well, barking at Hans to take him to the gentleman's club as he would be in no condition to be driving later!

Franziska's head swum as she tried to come to terms with what she'd just heard.

Her "Little Brother's" piano teacher was a morally bankrupt, adulteress _Hure_ who'd had zero qualms about breaking her marriage vows or having adult relations with an impressionable, naïve teenage boy.

And also, unless Franziska had misunderstood, which she frenziedly hoped she had…Miles wasn't the _only_ male in that household with whom Gretchen seemed to have familiarized herself with.

_Papa…no! It can't be true! How could you?!_

No, she mustn't jump to conclusions and assume that all those disgusting innuendos Gretchen had been making about her and her father had any merit. If Franziska was going to be any sort of prosecutor like her father, she would need conclusive evidence, not just conjecture.

And she knew just where to start looking, too.

Tip-toeing back downstairs, Franziska slunk over to Manfred's study. It was the one place she and Miles were forbidden to enter, presumably because that where her father kept the cabinet holding his prized cigars and liquor, but also because she knew he kept private files in his Oakwood desk.

However, Manfred was so certain that his word was law, and so confident in his ability to strike terror in their hearts with his commands, that he never bothered locking the room, which she now slipped into with ninja-like stealth.

She also knew where the key to Papa's hidden drawer was stashed. She didn't know what she hoped to find or why she knew to look there first … she just _did_.

Franziska rummaged through the usual office supplies once she slid the drawer open: pens, paperclips, rubber bands, loose change…but inside was a Cherrywood box, about the size of a cigar box, and it was the contents within here that made the child's heart drop down to her shoes.

Photos of women – different women, including a particularly slender but voluptuous one with long light brown hair and teal colored eyes, who Franziska recognized as the lead actress in a stage play her father had taken her to once. There were a couple of other photos of scantily clad women, all in various stages of undress, with racy notes about what they wanted to do with her Papa, handwritten on the back, and imprinted with lipstick marks.

A pair of lacy women's panties, which looked like dental floss, and that she instinctively knew hadn't belonged to her mother.

A couple of numbers hastily scrawled on matchbook covers.

Square foil packets…, which she was certain, were not Wet Naps.

Lastly, and this one made her feel sick, a sheet of lavender stationery, still vaguely scented with gardenia perfume. It was handwritten and dated January 2006. Back when Minna had still been alive.

**_I have a full student roster so I'm uncertain about being able to keep on your ward as my current new student. However, he does show great promise…let's see how persuasive you can be in making me change my mind? Diederich leaves town at 8:00. I will be waiting for you on top of my piano, wearing nothing but a great big smile. Until tonight, meine Liebe._ **

Franziska dropped the note back into the box as though her fingers had been scorched.

The full impact of the discovery hit her then, and nausea swirled unrestrained in her empty stomach. Her head swam with half-formed regrets. Her heart felt as if her blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. Her melancholy mood hung over her like a black cloud, deluging her sorrow down on her with the force of a tidal wave.

Somehow, the full realization of her father's betrayal, that her beautiful, sweet mother had never been enough for him, was almost more devastating than the actual loss of Minna herself.

The heartache was like red-hot coal placed in her chest, it glowed and burnt her at the same time, but it did not cool quickly like coal in water, it throbbed and she knew it'd torture her in all her waking hours and there would be no relief to be found.

At that moment, all the pent-up grief and tears Franziska Von Karma had been holding inside her, at last, came out, the force of it so great she fell to her knees, so heavy was the weight of her sorrow. There were no words in the world she could use to describe how she was feeling.

_When the right words would not come to explain my inner turmoil, the tears finally did. The mourning for my Mama was supposed to be something dignified and stoic in my family, but I cried like a child because I **was** still a child and I was not ashamed. Curled up in a ball on the floor of my father's study, I wept loudly and noisily, with running snot and choking sobs, because my Mama was gone and that made me sad, and so I cried and cried until there were no more tears left to be shed._

**_Big girls don't cry. Von Karmas don't cry. But little girls who miss their Mama can cry..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> (thank you so much, RoterSchmetterling, for your help with my German in this story!)
> 
> Schweig, du Miststück! – Be silent, you bitch!
> 
> Sprich nicht mit mir, du verrückter Mann! – Don't talk to me, you crazy man!
> 
> betrunkenen Arschlöcher – drunken assholes
> 
> Sie herzlos Saukerl! – You heartless bastard!
> 
> Metze! – Strumpet!
> 
> lieber Junge – Dear boy
> 
> Sie schmutzige Hure! – You dirty whore!
> 
> Dirne Prostituierte Schlampe – Prostitute bitch
> 
> Ehebrecherin –adulteress
> 
> meine Liebe – my love


	93. Seeds Of Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You slashed at me with betrayal. I'll parry with my vengeance."

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 29, 2025, 6:15 AM

Miles was leaving that day to go back to work. He was currently packing his bags in the master bedroom, but Franziska couldn't bear to watch this, so she'd slipped out when he'd gone to the bathroom and sought comfort in the seclusion of her study so she could mentally prep herself for the moment when she had to bid the love of her life adieu.

_A misty haze of painful memories looms upon the horizons of my mind. That's where I keep everything, in my mind. That was - until now when the weight of them all threaten to consume me. I can **feel** the hard painful lump in the back of my throat as the tears begin to form...as I sit here and think...and remember..._

Shortly after Gretchen had been fired, Manfred had sent his ward off to an all-boys boarding school in England where he'd continued his legal studies, effectively abandoning his Big Sister, however unwittingly.

The result had been that she'd only seen her Little Brother again at Katharina's wedding, and then afterward, just during summer holidays, the odd family event, and holidays for the next four years, until he'd left to the States to become a prosecutor. After which she'd barely seen him at all.

One way or another, Miles ultimately _always_ wound up leaving her.

Franziska supposed she should have been used to it by now, but she wasn't. And knowing, deep down, all along, what an inevitable outcome it would be still didn't make it any _less_ agonizing - after her mother had died and her sister had married, Miles had been her only companion and ally against the monster she'd called father.

Franziska angrily wiped away the stray tear that had rolled down her cheek. She couldn't cry. _Not yet._ Not until Miles left. Otherwise, if she allowed the tears to fall now, they'd _never_ stop.

_To describe Papa now makes him sound like a tyrant. Maybe that's fair. He screamed at us for the slightest thing with a voice that would make even grown-ups quake when they heard it. I bet when he was young, he was the playground bully, he was certainly the bully of our house. Whenever something didn't go his way, the entire household would hear about it. His yell echoed between walls, creeping under doors and squeezing through keyholes, traveling through windows like they weren't even there._

What choice did Franziska have after that, but to adopt the "if you can't beat them, join them" motto? What other options were there as the last Von Karma child residing, but to try to follow the Von Karma family creed? All of it was in vain hopes that if she could somehow meet Manfred's high expectations and be just like him, he would respect her and she might regain a _glimpse_ of the occasional love and kindness he'd bestowed on her as a young child.

_To be a Von Karma meant to be perfect in every way. Always be strong. Never show unnecessary emotions…including any sort of fear._

That was why she'd never openly shed any tears when Minna had died. She had kept on a brave face when her sister had left. Why she'd remained dry-eyed even when Miles had gone away each time.

She'd gotten so good at keeping a stiff upper lip that she even fooled herself at times. But it'd gotten to the point where everyone who'd ever met her must've deemed her either a cold-hearted bitch, or an unbreakable tough cookie who never crumbled, and was completely fearless.

Nobody would ever know how she'd never gotten over the overwhelming feelings of abandonment, or how terrifying it to know she was the sole Von Karma who risked bringing dishonor to her father who was now the sole remaining parent she had left.

_I always had to be strong. I was never permitted to be afraid. I was never allowed to show the tenseness, sadness, or doubts that grew in my head and heart. I was to be "warrior" and "survivor," preferably wrapped up with "perfect" to be above all others. There is a height at which adulthood level of perfection was expected of me, regardless of age, and I simply reached it faster than my peers when I started prosecuting at 13. A few growth spurts too many and childhood was gone well before the teen years began. So, I rose to the expectations; I stood tall no matter what came my way, whip ready and drawn, and resting in my holster beside me. It is not for me to regret who I am, but to fulfill the destiny given. So I balled up the fear when I needed to, allowed it to seep out when it was safe, and knew that ahead lay a path I was born to follow._

The girl gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. Slowly, her breathing hallowed itself, yet a small but intense pain struck the top nerve in her head.

_I want to be as nonchalant, aloof, unruffled on the inside as I am on the outside. I have perfected a mask of calm and competence; the person I present is mature and capable, professional. On the inside is the same kid I was when mama died, scared that someday someone will pull the rug out, tell me that all my accomplishments are truly nothing to behold, that I'm just overall rubbish, no prodigy worth mentioning…that I have no talent at all._

She expelled a heavy sigh. She'd long ago come to terms with the fact that she was far from being perfect or a genius like her father, but always wondered if she paled in comparison if anyone were ever to line up her accomplishments compared to those of Manfred's, her sister's, or even, and she hated to admit this last part, _Miles_. What evidence was there, really, that she was truly worthy of any of them?

_I yearn to be one of those people with a rock at their centre, someone able to stand-alone and not be lonely – someone who attracts people **because** they are strong. In a way, I do, but it's just a charade, a tower of cards. Should my foundation get a good jab, then the whole thing will come down to reveal the abandoned child within- the child who still mourns for who they were before the world imploded. Before they learned that "forever" could be frighteningly short and "unconditional love" was subject to the whims of a selfish parent and that information is still burnt into my cerebral cortex, writ large in scars. **Forever means never.**_

Sitting at her computer desk now, she buried her head in her hands.

_Perhaps I am cynical. Perhaps I am damaged. Perhaps I would have wound up a different person if I hadn't been forced to learn, excessively early in life, that **love means betrayal** …_

* * *

**_Franziska Von Karma and Katharina Rudolf_**  
 _Germany_  
November 11, 2015

"Tell me you are not serious, _Schwester_." Franziska was gripping the telephone receiver so tightly, her knuckles turned white. "Tell me I am a foolish fool who is hard of hearing, and that I did _not_ hear what you just said."

"If you would prefer me to lie to you, Franziska, I will gladly do just that." There was a blast of Arctic in Katharina's normally warm, loving cadence. "However, I am quite certain that you heard perfectly fine me the first time."

"But I simply cannot _understand!"_ Cried the normally composed younger sibling. "Just three months ago, I was at your residence, celebrating my brother-in-law's birthday party for his milestone third decade! I had never seen a happier couple than you two! Was it all merely an act on your parts?"

"Mayhap on _his_ part; any joy you witnessed was real and most definitely not performing on _my_ behalf," Katharina returned crisply. "Be that as it may, that _Schwein_ is clearly deserving of an Oscar! This year’s Academy Award for _Best Performance of a Happy Husband_ goes to Günther Rudolf!"

"Now is hardly the time to be facetious!" The prosecutor exclaimed. "Especially not after ringing me out of the blue to inform me that after seven years of wedlock and one beautiful child later, you are now leaving your spouse! This isn’t like you, _Schwester!_ I know how seriously you took your marriage vows. Pray tell, what has brought this on? Do not tell me you have gotten the proverbial _seven-year itch?"_

"I suffer from no such thing," the elder Von Karma replied flatly. "Nevertheless, my soon to be ex-husband was indeed suffering from such ailment. Evidently, _I_ was the only one who held those marital vows as sacred, since Günther had zero qualms with indulging in _connubial calisthenics_ elsewhere, which is why I am leaving him."

Franziska felt as though she'd been blindsided, such was her level of shock. Günther, her tall, fair-haired, handsome brother-in-law, who'd known and loved her sister since her secondary school years … had partaken in an extramarital affair?! _Verdammt noch mal!_ Was _nothing_ sacred?

Suddenly, the world made a lot less sense to her.

"But you two were _soulmates."_ The dismay in her voice was evident. "I was a bridesmaid at your nuptials! You had a fairytale wedding…"

"There are no such things as fairytales," the psychologist snapped. "Grow up, Franziska! Sometimes your knight in shining armor in naught but a _Scheißkerl_ in tin foil!"

She cringed inwardly, yet couldn't stop herself from playing Devil's Advocate. This had to be a mistake! Surely _someone_ in their family was deserving of matrimonial happiness?!

"What evidence do you have to support such an allegation?" She asked hesitantly. "Is it in any way possible that this is all mindless conjecture?"

"This is real life, not a courtroom, Prosecutor Von Karma!" Katharina erupted like a volcano. "I walked in on him and his lover in our sacred marital bed when I decided to come home for lunch yesterday and saw them copulating like a couple of while animals with my own two eyes! Does this firsthand eyewitness account suffice as a suitable burden of proof for you?"

Franziska was stunned into silence. She had no idea how to reply to such earthshattering news of yet another revered female in her life having to suffer the humiliating denigration of infidelity. First her beloved sainted Mama, and now Katharina.

 _Exactly what does it take to please a man so that he can actually keep his trousers zipped up?_ She wondered sadly. _My kindhearted sister is a gorgeous tiny dancer of a woman, as well as a brilliant family psychologist who has her own family psychologist practice and gave her husband a tidy, lovely home and beautiful child. What more could a man possibly want?_

What did _any_ man want? Was monogamy honestly such an impossible dream to attain?

She'd idolized, even envied, her sister's union. For Katharina Von Karma and Günther Rudolf, marriage had been the foregone conclusion from the time they were teens. They’d been inseparable. Each was the centre of the universe for the other. They were so relaxed in each other's company, so caring. Their love for one another radiated from them, touching the lives of everyone they knew. Over the years, they'd remained fiercely devoted to one another. Through sicknesses and family tragedies, including Minna's passing, they had supported one another. They walked through the neighborhood arm in arm, the light spring sunshine reflecting from their golden heads. When asked the secret to a long happy marriage, they would smile and say, "Good communication, never go to bed on an argument, and never let fun become unimportant."

In rough times, neither had ever strayed.

Until now.

"This cannot be happening," Franziska heard herself saying, as though in a daze. "You two were like … a real-life Ken and Barbie. Where could it have gone so wrong?"

"I have been asking myself the same thing." Katharina sounded positively drained now. "Things were not always perfect, of course – like all couples, we naturally had our ups and downs. There were moments my gaze would fall on the road that passed our home and followed the cracked and dappled grey to the bend in the road where it twists out of sight. Often I had wondered what might have happened if I had taken a step on that road less traveled, and just keep going. Ultimately, I did not _,_ because I never truly _wanted_ to."

" _Schwester_ , I am so sorry," the teen said at last. "What will you do now?"

"I am going to get away from that lying, cheating _Hurensohn_ is what I'm going to do! I am taking my daughter to Switzerland and plan to continue my practice there."

The prosecutor hated the idea of her beloved niece having to pay the price for her father's sins. Anneliese adored Günther and shouldn't have to be so far from him, especially during her formative years! She needed to make her sister realize that.

"But what about Anneliese?" She asked hesitantly. "The child is only six. Is it prudent to have her be so far from her father at such a tender young age…?"

"I cannot believe your disloyalty during my hour of need!" Katharina exploded. "You are supposed to be a prosecutor, yet you would be a turncoat and side with the guilty party in this instance? Just where is your sense of loyalty, not to mention _justice_ , when it comes to your own flesh and blood?”

 _“Schwester,_ I never meant to imply fealty to anyone but you!” She began with uncharacteristic meekness. “I only meant…”

Her sister cut her off sharply.

 _“Donnerwetter!_ Why am I even speaking to your simpleminded self about this?! You are naught no more than just _ein Kind_ child who has never had _any_ sort of relatable life experience!"

The harsh words were more than unfair. Moreover, they stung.

"I am 17-years-old and have been a prosecutor with a flawless record for the past four years!" Franziska countered. "I am hardly a child!"

"I have no idea why I am even wasting the breath of my marital woes to a virginal teenager with naïve dreams, who has never even had a boyfriendof her own!" Katharina's tone was beyond scathing now. "This means you are still a little girl internally! You have shown me evidence as such by comparing me and my husband to plastic doll figures _,_ while still harboring ludicrous fairytale ideals! Do not even deny the fact that to this day, you are still sitting in your castle tower, waiting for Prince Miles to come to rescue you on his white horse!"

Franziska felt her face grow hot and her arguments becoming scrambled.

"What _nonsense!"_ She declared angrily. "And how cruel of you to attack me in such a manner merely because you are upset! You know I see Miles Edgeworth as nothing more than my…"

"Do not lie to _me,_ Franziska!" Katharina warned. "I have reached my quota for people who are dishonest and play me for a fool by denying charges we both know are accurate. You have been in love with that man since the day you met him! You stopped seeing him as your _Little Brother_ ages ago if you _ever_ did! I _saw_ the way you were looking at him at Günther's party in August. The look of ardor on your face was unmistakable!"

Franziska's mouth went dry. Her latent feelings for Miles – or so she'd _thought_ they were – were they _that_ evident?

As though reading her mind, Katharina sighed, the ire draining from her, and when she spoke again, she sounded much calmer.

"Often, I wondered if Papa had ever known, or somehow sensed those more than sisterly feelings?" She mused. "I would ponder if that had any bearing as to why he'd be so cold to Miles at times? Or why he insisted on putting the two of you against one another competitively so that you would never form a _true_ alliance?"

"He did _not!"_ Franziska protested feebly. "Papa just always ... expected ambition and the best from us, because _he_ was so revered in the legal field…"

"We are veering off-topic," the good doctor interrupted. "I apologize for speaking so harshly to you, Franziska. Everybody seeks love, and naturally, you are no exception."

A note of melancholy crept into her voice then.

"Mama often said there was love out there for everyone and I had always assumed Günther was it; the one who brought me over a beer at a crowded party one night and said I was such _‘so schön for such a short Frau.'_ I thought that was so sweet at the time but now I wonder … was _that_ the highest I rose in his eyes? He pursued me merely because he thought me to be fair of face?"

"Of course not!" Franziska replied quickly. "There's so much more to you than your beauty, _Schwester_. You are every man's dream woman! You would be perfect even if you were _not_ born a Von Karma!"

Her sister laughed softly at the outburst but then grew subdued again.

"My apparent perfection did not suffice, as, in the end, I wasnotenough for my husband. Also, I am no longer a young ingenue," Katharina reminded her sadly. "I was barely more than a child bride when I tied the knot; an idealistic, hopeful student pursuing her doctorate. But now that I am pushing my third decade, I shall be doing so as a single woman, all alone. And though it may be facile and anti-Von Karma to admit as much … frankly, I am outright petrified.”

Franziska didn't know how to respond. It was so distressing to hear her strong-willed sibling sound so devastated and there were no words to convey the sympathy she was feeling at that moment.

"I wasted so much time with the wrong man. I gave him the best years of my youth and alas, it has all been nothing but a waste.” Katharina sniffled slightly. “I know Miles is a good man but I do not want you to be squandering your life on an impossible dream for someone who is not even aware of your affections. On the other hand, keep in mind there is the chance he may never feel any affection for you beyond the brotherly kind even if he _did_ know, dear sister."

Suddenly, a steely edge crept into her normally dulcet cadence.

"Remember to heed these words of mine, Princess, before you waste another decade waiting for your Prince in that lonely tower. Age is not kind to women. I already feel like a slab of sunbaked, dilapidated roadkill on a scorching day. Monogamy does not seem to exist in this world anymore. Ultimately, love only ends up meaning … betrayal."

Katharina's heartbreaking verse echoed in Franziska's mind for a long time after that.

Little did she know that the cruel hand of fate would allow her to see the shattering validity of her sister's words sooner than she thought …


	94. Like A Virgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Franziska's feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, and jealousy...at last summarized in one final nutshell! Also, head's up, there is a mini lemon here...the title was a sorta giveaway though, Wright?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Love is like sunlight. You must embrace the dark shadow of the past warmly and touch the hearts of others, that's when they'll love you."

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Germany_  
December 29, 2016

It was like a scene from the movies. A momentous festive party at a majestic mansion, still festively decorated for Christmas, as the scene for even more celebration – the event of her childhood friend Adelaide's engagement, complete with a live local band. The social atmosphere, charged with evanescent gayety, intoxicated her. She felt like a flower held under the surface of champagne. Through all the glamour spread a tincture of chrysanthemums.

Over the roar of music, a distant, hazy chatter could be heard. She couldn't make out any words, but laughter rang in her ears and wouldn't seem to stop. The song that was playing got louder, pulling her in and wouldn't let go.

She had no choice but to join the crowd, jumping in a huddled group like Tic-Tac's being shaken in a box. The celebration was a riot of colour, everyone a little more hyped up than they should be. Her eyes ate up the scene like a post-Ramadan feast, her limbs feeling supercharged, and her head giddy. Everything about the flowing silks made her want to dance, her feet moving with grace, and her pulses racing. Franziska let her hair down and indulged more than a few glasses of bubbly as she let herself get into the mindless swing of things. The music was so loud that it made her skin tingle and her lungs feel like mush.

The underlying vibe on the dance floor was electric tonight, everyone feeding off the smiles and fast dancing. She could go like this all night long, feet moving to the crazy beat as if they belonged to the music. She shimmied in her killer dress as though her hips were made to sway, the sequins catching the disco ball light that twirled above - launching in every shade of the rainbow into the darkness. The bass thumped in time with her heartbeat as though they were one, filling her from head to toe with music.

She really liked this song!

The band was playing the cover to the 80's classic, "Boom Boom Boom (Let's Go Back To My Room)" by Paul Lekakis, and unless her liquored haze was making her see things, the bronze performer appeared to be _looking right at her_ as he sang.

Growing up with a sister who was a decade her senior, Franziska was very familiar with retro music. It fit the jovial atmosphere and she found herself getting a particular kick out of the playful, suggestive lyrics. In her current state, buzzed out state, it suited her to a T.

* * *

_Second time you moved me_   
_It's time for us to boom boom_   
_You can come right close to me_   
_And feel the burning fire_   
_All the time you got me_   
_It's fine for us to boom boom_   
_If you see the spark in me_   
_And feel my strong desire_

* * *

_Boom Boom Boom_   
_Let's go back to my room_   
_So we can do it all night_   
_And you can make me feel right_

* * *

The lead singer of the band was unlike any man she'd ever seen before. There was only one word to describe the sun-kissed, bleached-blond musician. _Adonis_. She found herself hypnotized at the sight of that beautiful face. Well defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones, the complexion of his tanned skin going well with his ocean-blue eyes. The strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest, and abdomen. He was like a Greek God among the other men present, all who each paled in comparison. One look and both women and men swooned at the sight of him no matter their sexual preferences and one word passed from his lips had even the straightest of men flushing shades of red that no one ever knew was naturally possible.

Franziska felt her body tense and start to tremble as he suddenly looked down at that moment, his azure gaze locking with hers as he brought the microphone to his full lips, curving them into a knowing smile as he continued to sing while staring directly at her.

She knocked back the remains of her glass, the burning sensation pouring down her throat, creating a warm feeling deep inside of her stomach, which began to flutter as pure, unadulterated lust raced within her. This, _this_ was what she needed, _that_ night, more than _anything_.

 _Him_. He was the one. _Tonight_. She must have him. She _would_ have him.

The moment the set was over he approached her silently, and like a bee to honey, she was already zooming towards him, feeling further emboldened from several more consumed glasses. She never drank to excess but the giddiness she felt from just the touch of his warm hand clamping down on her arm as he guided her through the crowd gave her little doubt he was thinking in much the same way. With her primitive brain in charge and the flood of endorphins urging her to continue, she allowed herself to be swept away at the moment with this man. She was equal parts exhilarated and intoxicated. She was as steady as a weakly spun spinning top gyrating back and forth.

He led her downstairs to the recreation room, where there was another bar, a pool table, a leather sofa, and a flat-screen TV. However, neither of them were there for any sort of entertainment that the room had to offer – only the secluded privacy it gave them away from the masses. He locked the door behind him and then his heated gaze fixed upon her.

She emitted a tiny gasp when she noted the familiar glazing over in his eyes. It was as though she'd just enchanted him, ensnaring him with her gaze. She tossed her hair back arched her spine so her breasts were pressed against the thin fabric of her sheath for his hungry gaze. She sensed him squirming with desire from here and then the scent of his cologne drifts in through her nostrils. It was a scent to which she was quickly becoming addicted. A tingling sensation disrupted her ruse and the tables turned. She was now caught in his web. This game of desire was intoxicating.

He stepped closer to her, swaying slightly, indicating he also had indulged in some festive spirits that evening. Even though she'd never done anything like this before, Franziska was aware of the electricity in the air, like crackling in the air. She didn't remember feeling this way ever before.

_Perhaps this is what it's like when people say they feel fireworks going off._

He smirked at her, his gaze roaming speculatively over every inch of her curvy body, aptly displayed in her clingy sleeveless black dress, and taking no shortcuts. She felt a heated tingle all over as a slow, appreciatively smile played across his lips. And then his eyes – they were deep and catastrophic, a vivid baby blue as a great body of water that softly melted into a milky green. This close, she could see the flecks of silver in his eyes. He had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, making him look devilishly handsome.

He leaned back against the pool table, crossing his long legs at the ankle while folding his arms across his chest, partially bare as he'd unzipped his thin black leather jacket to mid-navel and tilted his head to the side.

"Do you have a name to go with that luscious body, which would bring even the most pious of men to their knees, _schöne Frau_?"

What did it matter about names? After tonight, she would never see him again, and there was a higher chance of her actually mustering up the courage to go through with this recklessness if they kept things as anonymous.

"Whatever you want it to be," she replied coyly, flashing a disarming smile. "After all, what's in a name? Is it truly so important?"

"It's only proper we have an exchange." There was a lascivious glint in his eye. "Since I wish to let you know _my_ name, as you will be _screaming_ it soon enough. My name is Konrad."

 _Confident, this one_. Franziska raised an amused eyebrow _. Downright **cocky**_.

She'd expect nothing less from a musician. Addie's fiancé Élie had told her that he'd attended their school at some point and that he and his band were local, but damned if she could recall _him_ , never mind the name of it, in her current state!

"You can call me Hilde." She quickly opted to shorten her middle name, _Hildeberta_ , but he'd never need to know that.

"Hilde." He pointed a finger right at her. "Without question, you truly are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Franziska tried to give a knowing smile and fought back the blush creeping on her cheeks at the words.

" _Danke_ ," she murmured, hoping her voice came across as husky and throaty instead of coming out as quivery as her insides felt. " _Es ist sehr nett von Ihnen, das zu sagen_."

"I am not trying to be kind, _schöne Dame_ , merely honest." He shook his head slightly. "Although I sense you've been told that before. A lot."

Sure, ever since becoming a prosecutor five years ago, Franziska had had many admirers who'd told her they found her becoming over the years, albeit mostly at the most inappropriate moments, like when they were on the trial defendants! She'd paid little mind to any of them, concentrating instead on her work while trying to keep her traitorous mind from veering towards…impossible dreams. _Him_. Always _him_. If she couldn't have _him_ , she had never wanted another – up until tonight, when she'd decided to finally change her mind.

And when he'd battered her ego as well as her heart, leaving her with no other choice but to move on unto greener pastures.

Ergo, the observation rang true. Over the years, as time and nature had blossomed her into a young woman, there had been no shortage of people who had conveyed to Franziska, the spitting image of her fair, late mother, save for having her father's hair color, that she was beautiful.

 _However, never anyone who **mattered** , _she thought rebelliously. Also, never by the _one_ personwho she'd ever wished would see her as such…but as tonight had indicated, obviously _never_ would, even though she was now 18 and there were no more barriers in the way…

"Yes, although nobody's ever said it quite like you just did," she replied serenely, wanting to let him know she appreciated the compliment but refusing to bolster his ego by returning it.

"But do you _believe_ it?" Konrad pressed, staring at her as though trying to see into her soul.

Franziska faltered then, her faux confidence slowly withering away at the question. Suddenly she wasn't so sure about her appeal any more at all. After all, here she was, two years shy of 20…and the most she'd ever done was play a few foolish games of spin the bottle at some friends' birthday parties in middle school and French kissed a couple of boys, but nothing further. She felt embarrassed about her lack of experience with the opposite sex then and would have rather died than let Konrad know she was still a virgin.

"I – I guess…" She smiled uncertainly at him and dropped her gaze. "I suppose…I know that I am not…ugly."

"No, _du verlockende Frau."_ He chuckled then and took a step closer – he was so much taller than her – and she rose to meet him as he leaned down, staring down into her eyes, which were wide with longing and uncertainty. "You're not ugly."

In the next instant, his arms swept around her and pulled her to him, firm and close, then his lips were on hers, sweeping away all hesitation from her mind and filling her with a heady rush of excitement.

Softly he nibbled the corner of her mouth. She did the same back, slanting her lips against his, teasing and nipping and savoring his firm, soft skin. Her eyes drifted shut. Her heart pounded and began to race as she wrapped her arms around him, snuggled closer into his embrace, and felt the unmistakable ridge of his erection against her belly.

A hard, impatient erection, yet soft, patient, gentle lips. Another tantalizing combination.

The man was pure seduction.

Heat sizzled and throbbed through her, centering in a hot pulse of need in her sex.

He lifted his arms from her back to fist his hands in her hair and adjust the angle of her head. The tip of his tongue teased the crease between her lips. She sighed with desire, opening to him. He slipped inside, his tongue meeting hers in a slow greeting that quickly turned heated.

So much sensation. The textures of lips and tongue, the inside of his mouth, the occasional gentle nip. That strange, intoxicating taste of liquor, and the scent of something herbal like verbena from his shampoo or cologne. Under her hands, his jacket zipped slipped further down until the sides fell apart, with nothing but bare, tanned skin beneath it, along with the tensile strength of taut back muscles. And always, at the firm center of everything, the bold press of his manhood.

Instinctively, she wriggled her pelvis, rubbing against him.

He groaned and thrust against her and she ached for the contact her body craved, which would drive her to satisfaction. This was a real, palpable need, something that felt all-consuming and inexorable. It wouldn't take much. She was so aroused already, as well as something else.

Feminine, for sure. Purely feminine.

Meltingly, bonelessly feminine.

Achingly, hungrily feminine.

"Hilde, I want you," he rasped, tearing his mouth away from her and looking at her hungrily. "I want to feast my eyes on that glorious body of yours. "Take off your dress."

Franziska took a step back and mutely obliged, unable to refuse him anything at this point, although her hands were shaking slightly as she slipped the straps off her shoulders, still holding his gaze, and let them drop so the dress slowly slid down her body and pooled at her feet, followed by her wispy black bra and panties.

She heard the faint catch of his breath as his smoldering blue gaze took in everything from the tip of her toes still in the strappy sandals, to the curve of her hips, the lift of her breasts, the shape of her arms, the slope of her shoulders, the riotous tumble of her hair, and her parted lips, slightly swollen from his kisses.

He reached for her and yanked her to him, devouring her mouth with his own yet again, his hands already fumbling with the zipper of his pants. His erection sprung free, rubbing against her stomach. Surprised, she drew back slightly and looked down it, throbbing, and glistening.

"Underwear gets in the way." He shoved his hands in her hair and licked the side of her neck. "I like it when my _Glied_ rubs against my jeans this way."

She'd never heard a man speak in such a vulgar manner before, wasn't sure know how to respond, so she just looked up at him, her lips swollen and wet. "Tell me. What do you want, Konrad?"

He swallowed hard, panting slightly as the words threatened to break through and let his tongue free because she'd demanded it of him with her uninhibited behavior and took his other hand and started nudging her south.

"You really want to know what I want, Hilde? I want you to suck my cock, baby. Take me as far as you can into that sweet, hot throat. I want to fuck your mouth and control you by your hair."

So _that_ was the way he wanted it. Not gentle, not nice, but hard and dark. Which was fine, but she was already feeling vulnerable enough being completely naked while _he_ was still fully clothed, with only his zipper undone, she didn't want to feel even more like a cheap whore than his unchecked words already had, which getting on her knees before him at that moment most certainly would have. Some of her friends paid lip service to men as readily as breathing, but that…that was too personal for her. She didn't want such a level of intimacy, not with this crass-talking stranger.

Of course, he didn't need to know her sudden semi-prudish tendencies, not at this stage in the game, any more than he needed to her real name.

Bolstered by the desire in his hungry eyes, Franziska moved her head out of reach of his insistently guiding hands, and looked at him with a teasing expression, feeling amazingly liberated and deliciously bold.

"Konrad, as much as I want to taste you, every inch of that succulent cock, and want to suck you and make you beg me to stop because you're aching to be to be inside me…"

" _Mein Gott._ " He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. "You're wicked. You know what you're doing to me, _schmutziges Mädchen_? You could make me come, just hearing those words from your sexy mouth."

 _From **beautiful lady** , down to a **tempting woman** , and now I'm regressed to **dirty girl**._ Franziska swallowed. Well, she was naked and drunk in a recreation room at a friend's party with a rock musician who didn't even see fit to even remove his clothing. What else did she expect him to see her as, the wanton _Schlampe_ who had come along with him, _willingly_ , whose real name he didn't even know?

"Well, that would be a waste," she said huskily, squelching her rising misgivings. "When you come, I want it to be _inside_ _me_."

"As much as it's a waste of those succulent blow-job lips of yours, if that's the way you want it to be," he growled. "So be it. I'm going to cum inside that _heiß, nass muschi_ of yours, _schmutziges Mädchen."_

He erupted then, grabbing her buttocks tightly with both hands and pulling her towards him, jabbing his tongue into her mouth as he backed her towards the pool table behind her and pushed her back onto it then, without warning. The gesture was so abrupt that she fell flat on her back with a slight thud, her body canted against his, her legs still dangling off the side before she even comprehended what he was doing.

Konrad knew exactly what he wanted. Roughly, he flipped her around, bending her over the table. Franziska couldn't even see his face or expression as he positioned her at the precise angle for maximum depth and squeezed one bare breast in his hand, tweaking and lightly pinching the sensitive peak while with the other hand, he gripped her hip, drawing her back towards him. Then, without foreplay or another word, he thrust himself hard between her legs and planted himself deep inside her.

She gasped at the unprepared shock of his entry. Thinking it was a sound of rapture, Konrad was mindless to anything but his rampaging craving to sexually devour, suppressed, and expressed at the same time. He had never felt such a hunger to possess someone. He couldn't rut deep enough, far enough, tight enough to satisfy himself as he moved, undulating his hips to bore further within her.

"Don't move," he commanded before ramming himself against her buttocks so she was pressed even harder down on the green fabric surface, one pool ball wedged almost painfully against her breast. He pulled her tighter until he felt as if his manhood was the one thing connecting him to anything, to her, and the center of his world.

Franziska caught her breath, which she'd been holding in the entire time, and released it, thinking with relief that it was finally going to be over.

Instead, Konrad inched his manhood tighter and deeper and thrust his finger into her from behind so she was penetrated both in front and rear. He sprawled on top of her, covering her as he pounded her body unrelentingly.

Her initial shock now marginally lessened since his initial entry, Franziska cried out then, this time from slight discomfort as he grabbed a handful of her hair and drove into her. Hard, slick, hot thrusts, purposeful, deep, dark, pounding; she heard the sounds at the back of his throat, jolting, convulsing as his release neared, and his body couldn't contain it.

"Hilde!" He cried in ecstasy, his body tightening, signaling his release was imminent.

She didn't know which of the two invasive sensations was more uncomfortable or made her feel more like a _billige_ _Hure_ at that moment. She was almost too scared to move, thinking if she did, this joining of their bodies would last even longer and it almost felt like it'd been forever already. So she gripped the sides of the table and just held on. Her body stretched, bound as if she were in restraints, at the mercy of his indomitable sex, his intrusive, questing fingers.

His climax boiled up and gushed out, hard and forcefully, explosively shooting up like red flames and then pouring out like lava, thick and incandescent, moving like molasses. He poured himself deep inside her, and then all over her. She could feel the sticky wetness both across her buttocks and within her as he gave her one last ass slap for good measure as if to convey his thanks for the pleasure he'd gotten from her body. Then slowly, he withdrew his heated hardness, leaving her bereft, both physically and emotionally.

He was already across the room by the time she trusted her shaking legs to have the strength to move enough to turn around to face him. Trembling, Franziska backed up against the pool table, leaning back on it for support while clutching her discarded dress against her body, shielding her nudity from his gaze. She'd never felt more cheap, filthy, or used in her entire life.

She was already tender and sore at both ends of her violated body, and she could feel the remnants of his orgasm, the gush thick and slow, seeping down between her legs. At least she hoped that's all it was. She'd been horseback riding enough as a young girl to not be worried that he'd broken her maidenhead but there was no way was she checking to see if that wetness was any sort of blood in front of him!

"That was fun. _Danke_ , _schmutziges Mädchen."_ He deftly zipped up his pants and jacket and grabbed his sunglasses from the side of the pool table, flashing her a jaunty wink as he headed to the door. "You were right, I'd take being within those heavenly gates over _den Oralverkehr_ … _any_ day!"

She turned her head away, unable to look at him, as she was so sickened with degradation.

Didn't he realize he'd just taken her virginity? Somehow, in the back of her mind, she sensed it wouldn't have made a difference. His sole target had been his _own_ selfish gratification, naught else.

No, he hadn't _taken_ it, Franziska corrected herself internally, stifling the hysterical sob she felt building within her chest, and not even noticing Konrad's swift exit, or him even shutting the door behind him. She had _given_ it to him, consensually and willingly! Her prided virtue was completely vanquished now, due to nothing but her defiant, reckless behavior and an insane need to soothe her battered ego, to feel desired and sexy so she could shout a smug _Take That!_

To _him_.

Only now, when it was too late, Franziska realized she could never profess this incident and claim she was now a woman to any other soul, for the waves of shame and self-loathing washing over her would always be too great.

She wished she was _dead_.

Nausea nearly overcame her as she remembered how thoughtlessly Konrad had tossed her aside, like the _dirty girl_ she had been to him, once he'd gotten what he'd wanted from her and his primal needs had been satisfied.

God, how she _hated_ him! Hated that he hadn't even stripped while _she_ had been buck-naked, and only his relentless penis had been exposed as he'd pulled it, hard and throbbing from his pants, and then hauled her up, mounted her, and rammed himself into her furiously like some sort of unleashed, insatiable, crazed beast!

It was another ten minutes before the defiled girl was able to still her shaky fingers and get dressed again, and then another five before she could entrust her quaking legs to carry her back upstairs and back to the party. She had to get the hell out of there! Forget trying to find her friends – they were too busy playing host and she couldn't risk bumping into the musician again while trying to find Addie and Élie to bid them adieu.

The prosecutor knew if Konrad so much as tried to touch her, or even _speak_ to her again, she would start screaming and would never, ever stop!

As she pushed her way through the crowd on her way to the front entrance lobby, Franziska cast one last look over her shoulder at the buzzing, festive party, still in full swing – then immediately wished she hadn't.

Forever etched into her memory for the rest of her days would be the image of Konrad, fresh from deflowering her, lustily tonguing yet _another_ random, horny _Schlampe_ …not even half an hour afterward! The gruesome twosome, oblivious to their surroundings, were grinding on the dance floor, pawing frantically at one another and slobbering all over each other's faces like a couple of wild, untamed, rabid animals!

At that exact moment, the prosecutor felt it shatter – her last shreds of normalcy and humanity. They fragmented into a million pieces, like a crystal vase falling onto a marble floor that lay glittering in the sun. Who'd have known breaking down could be so poetic? She knew there was no hope of the broken fragments of her soul ever again being pieced back together; she wasn't even going to try. And so she just stood there, frozen in place, staring numbly at a blank spot on the wall.

"I am officially done." The broken _Frau_ whispered to herself. "I have reached my limit and now you could stick a fork in me, for I am just … _done_."

 _The bitterness is rising like bile into my mouth,_ she despaired, violently wiping her mouth with her hand and wishing the motion could remove the tainted taste of the musician from her lips. _Although after I remove myself from here, I will have no reason to swallow it anymore. I’ve to get out of here. I've got to, I've got to…_

Infuriated tears of humiliation burned her eyes, and she swallowed back the ones forming in her throat, as for the _second_ time that night, her wounded pride and battered heart threatened to be her undoing.

 _Evidently, I'm not enough to tide over a man, even for a **one night,**_ Franziska realized achingly. _So what hope is there for me to **ever** be enough for any man, for a **lifetime?** Gretchen's husband wasn't enough for her, nor was my mother for my father, or Katharina for Günther. Ultimately, my Schwester is right. Ultimately, love **does** mean betrayal._

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 29, 2025, 6:30 AM

" _Meine Dame_ , the taxi will be here soon. I'm leaving now."

Franziska jerked at the unexpected sound of Miles' voice then, so lost had she been in relieving painful recollections of yesteryear that she'd not even become aware of his presence until that moment.

There he stood in the doorway of her study, which connected it to their bedroom, suitcase in his hand, and a sad smile on his face.

He came over and stood close – too close. She could see the combined shades in his smoky eyes, which presently reminded her of the grey of the sea - a stormy, tumultuous sea that tore apart anyone who looked into them and dragged the onlooker down into their depths. It was fitting, because she felt as though she were drowning, as surely as she knew he saw the unshed tears caught in her own. The moment bore down on her, heavy, like the feel of the air right before a thunderstorm. A little sigh escaped her lungs, and her chin tilted just a bit. His palm smoothed a small path from her chin to her cheek, and his fingers feathered into her hairline.

"I hope you'll be alright. You know I'm going to worry about you."

For some reason, that made her furious. She didn't want his sadness any more than his pity. She was sick of the pain, the uncertainty – of just everything!

" _Please_ , Miles. Do not make this harder than it needs to be. Just … you've got to go, so _go_."

Franziska lifted one hand, to either shove him or slap his hand away, and he caught it. Caught _her_.

She froze. It wasn't that she wasn't hurt or angry anymore, because she was. She just felt so much other conflicting emotions as well in that moment, which she didn't even have a name for, and it hit her so hard she couldn't move.

Miles didn't either, and as the two stared at each other until he spoke at last, his voice husky and filled with meaning.

"Do not give me any more orders, Franziska. Not now … not _ever_."

Without any warning, he pulled her into his arms and stared down into her face, noting that her lower lip was starting to quiver.

"Unhand me at once, Miles Edgeworth! How dare you try to be forceful with me? And _now_ of all times!" She struggled against his iron grip, knowing she was about to lose all control if she remained in his embrace for even another instant.

Gently, he placed a fingertip against her trembling lip, to still it, and when her mouth opened to make another protest, he pressed down, gently but firmly, with the pad of his index finger, softly running the tip over the outline of her lips.

"I have always been more of a lover than a fighter, Franziska Von Karma." Miles' determined gaze fixed unwaveringly on hers. "And in the attempt to be a peace-keeping sort in the past, I have for the most part opted to remain in subdued silence against your fiery ways, but now, I'm completely out of time. As much as you deserve a man who tries to allow you to be who you are, and never try to change you, I need to also stand my ground at times. In addition, I wouldn't rush this under normal circumstances, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Stop this nonsense, Miles Edgeworth!" While she ceased her impotent struggle in his powerful hold, helpless tears now filled her eyes instead. " _Why_ are you doing this to me?! Let go of me, damn you!"

" _No_." His voice was quiet but firm. "No, I will _not_ let you go, _meine Dame._ Notwhen I am leaving for half a year, with the chance that I will not hear your voice or see your face again in that time. There are times when I will give you what you want, and there are times I'm going to go ahead and do what _I_ want. Even if this angers you, I'd have never forgiven myself if I didn't at least _try_ to give you something to remember me by."

She felt a weird prickling heat, like a blush but stronger, shiver through her, and she knew something was going to happen... and that they were both powerless to stop it.

"Five minutes, Franziska," he murmured. "That's all I'm going to take from you. I've even set my cell phone alarm so you know I am a man of my word."

He pulled her resisting form even nearer, his breath warm against her parted lips.

Closer.

Their lips inched closer still, and then with a loud groan, he drew her tightly against his broad chest, her soft feminine curves crushed tightly against his hard, muscled build, leaving zero inches of space between their bodies. The entire world funneled into the space between the two of them.

His hands ran up along her cheek, and he tipped her face to his. She could smell the sharp tang of his aftershave and the clean, masculine scent that was so beloved and distinctly _Miles_.

Almost as though she had no control over them, Franziska's arms snaked around his waist, and her knees wobbled when he locked his hips to hers. Miles nuzzled her neck, sucking gently and breathing deeply, and she gasped as she pressed against him. He pulled his mouth up to her throat, across her cheek, and finally found her lips with a desperate press that shocked her and knocked a moan out of her mouth and into his. The fingers of his one hand slid through her hair and his other hand dipped down to the small of her back, pulling her tighter and locking her closer.

The first brief sensation of his mouth shocked her, even though she had known it was coming. She clutched his arms for support and kept her eyes open. He hesitated, his forehead wrinkled in confusion, then he swooped in again, both hands in her hair, and the bottom of her world dropped away.

They kissed with the same parry and thrust that they did everything. An answer to a taunt. Vying for what seemed to be the same thing, the clash of wills and lips.

Franziska's mouth opened and his tongue slid in, and as he at last fiercely claimed her lips as he'd yearned to for so long, his kiss wasn't the mix of lazy and confident she was sure it would be. It was crazy passion and definite possessiveness, as though he knew that if he snared her with a kiss she couldn't forget, she wouldn't be able to walk away after the five minutes were up…even though _he_ had to.

Miles' alarm sounded on his phone then, but Franziska didn't hear it over the loud pounding of her heart, and the ringing in her ears; all she could think about was the hungry pull of his mouth as she stood there in the strong cage of his arms.

Despite knowing that the end for them was looming the very minute he walked out that door, taking a part of her with him that would never again be returned, it didn't matter. Because right up until very the last minute, Franziska Von Karma fully admitted her wordless surrender to them both; she was powerless against Miles Edgeworth and his smoldering kisses.

They kissed again and her mind blurred, and she thought about how until now, it'd been so long since Miles had laid a hand on her, that she'd forgotten what it was like to be kissed by him. He rubbed her heart raw. Spell-casting kisses, kisses that took off the layers of the soul, that split one wide open. The kiss was the kind that broke open the sky. It stole her breath and gave it back. It showed her that every other kiss she'd had in her life had been wrong.

Miles pulled away first. They stared at each other in bewildered silence, like neither of them could quite grasp what just happened.

Then he regained his famous composure, and as she struggled to regain her own, he dropped his hands off her waist and sighed ruefully.

"Sorry" he murmured. His intense gaze was a mixture of something unplaceable – _Love_? _Regret_? – laced with a hint of mischief. "I couldn't help it. But at least now it's over with and I too, have something to remember _you_ by, Franziska."

She stared at him a while longer, still unable to speak, the feel of his warm mouth still lingering like a stamp on her lips. She put a hand to her heart to calm the thudding while her mind screamed at her to collect her thoughts. Miles returned her wide-eyed stare. Then he smiled, as if he knew what sort of effect he had, and turned away – but not before he pressed one last tender kiss on her forehead, grabbed his previously discarded portmanteau, and strode out the door and down the stairs towards his now waiting taxi.

At first, there was silence, until at last, she began breathing again.

Then she fell apart.

Franziska's remaining thread of strength frayed before breaking completely, sending her plummeting over the edge as the long-suppressed tears fell from her eyes and streaked down her face. Sobs shook her slender frame, threatening to tear her apart from the inside. She fought to reclaim control over her body, shocked by the sounds escaping from deep within her chest.

 _Damn you, Miles Edgeworth!_ Her heart silently screamed. _I don't know what to think or to believe about us anymore! The only coherent thought I'm capable of is this: How am I **ever** supposed to get **over** you when you kiss me as though you still love me – right before you **leave** me – and now all I can do is fantasize about being **under** you!?_

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul Lekakis – Boom Boom Boom (Let's Go Back To My Room)
> 
> Translations (thank youRoterSchmetterling for your help!)  
> Es ist sehr nett von Ihnen, das zu sagen - It is very nice of you to say that
> 
> schöne Dame –beautiful lady  
> du verlockende Frau – you tempting woman  
> schmutziges Mädchen – dirty girl  
> billigeHure– cheap whore  
> den Oralverkehr – the oral sex


	95. Muted Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the mysteries. There are no secrets time does not reveal.”

_ Wright Talent Agency  
_ May 3, 2025, 8:00 AM

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

_Beep!_

"You've reached Phoenix Wright, Vice-President of the Wright Talent Agency! He's the pianist you've been searching for! Please leave a message and he will call you back quicker than you can say _Abracadabra_!" 

“…..Hey there, pal, it's me Gumshoe. Huh, I thought I’d be able to catch you since you don’t work at the bar until evening…anyway, I hope everything is good since I've been trying to get a hold of you for a few weeks now and it's like you've fallen off the face of the earth _again_!... I'm having some crazy déjà vu flashbacks from 6 years ago! I hope you and Trucy are OK…you _do_ know you can always come to us if you need anything _,_ don’t you? ... I can't seem to reach you on your cell phone or via email, so that's why I thought I’d try calling your office. Also, I can't get a hold of Maya on her cell either! Whenever I call it now, the voicemail says _‘the cellular customer you are trying to call is currently out of the service area or unavailable.’_ Should I be worried? Anyway, pal, I know I’m rambling…Thing is, I got a call from Kay with some news about Mr. Edgeworth and Sir that I wanted to let you know about, and it’s pretty important, so please give me a call whenever you get this. I guess that’s it for now…. Oh, _right!_ Sorry honey, I almost forgot! Oops! The wife just reminded me of just _one_ more thing… I wanted to let you know that in July, Maggey’s sister is throwing her a baby shower, as she is due with little Jeff in September. Just wondering if Trucy would want to come? Gordy asks about her all the time...it's been ages since we've seen you guys. Maggey and I miss you! Call me.”

_Click._

* * *

_Fey Manor  
_ May 3, 2025, 8:06 AM

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

_Beep!_

“Greetings and Mystic Ami’s blessings be with you! You have reached the personal and confidential voicemail of Maya Fey, Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique. Please leave a message detailing your request, and I will happy to discuss how I can help reacquaint you with your dearly departed. In the meantime, keep your _spirits_ up and see you on the _other side_!” 

“…Hiya pal, it's Gumshoe. I just left a long message on your other half’s voicemail… Hmmm… Do I need to whip out the tracking device, since I can’t reach _either_ of you? Did you two crazy kids run off somewhere and elope without telling us? I mean, _you’re_ not around and _... Phoenix_ isn’t either…As they say _..._ The plot thickens!Heh heh! Listen, Maya, I know when we last emailed with regards to Maggey’s baby shower, you said Little Missy will be attending...we’d love to have you too, but do understand your Master duties may keep you from joining us and that you can't commit to any dates yet. However, as I can't get a hold of Phoenix, I'm not sure whether Trucy would be there, and if that would that affect _your_ ability to come? Or has that all been sorted out since we saw you guys at Christmas? So, uh, I also kind of have some news about Mr. Edgeworth and Sir… and it's nothing I want to leave in a voicemail. Give me a call whenever you get this since I can't get you on your cell phone. I hope everything's OK? Maggey and I miss you girls like crazy. See ya, pal!”

_Click._

* * *

**_Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Beaugosse Private Jet Plane_  
May 3, 2005, 8:30 AM

The luxurious ride on Longines’ private jet over to the UK, despite offering every sort of pampering, on-air entertainment, and comfort that one could ever hope for, was filled with tense silence. 

Despite her lackluster enthusiasm when Maya had told her about the Euro Trip, Pearl had still sullenly agreed to come along and promised to be on her best behavior. Nevertheless, the trio had been on the plane for a little more than a couple of hours before the normally sweet spirit medium had morphed back into _Salty Pearls._

AKA, a typically _moody, angsty teenager!_

The psychic thought she’d reached her limit with her cousin’s misbehavior when Pearl had insidiously booked her and Phoenix in the outlandishly priced Honeymoon Suite at the Gatewater Hotel all those years ago! Then her patience had been tested yet again, when the mischievous but well-meaning little matchmaker had proceeded to (sneakily!) sign the duo up for the Ultra Course at the frigid Hazakura Temple, only a year later! (Although to be fair, admittedly, the nearly frostbitten Phoenix may have been the more homicidal one at the time!) 

In both instances, the Master had barely suppressed her exasperation and somehow, still managed to maintain her cool, (both literally and figuratively in the latter sense) and even decided against disciplining or scolding the child whom she normally loved more than her own life. Therefore, instead of mild castigating or punishment for her misdeed, she’d opted to make Pearl promise to be nothing but a good girl in the future! It seemed to have been a well-made decision up until then, as for the past six years, her cousin had been true to her word. Maya couldn't have ever asked for a more well-mannered and angelically behaved child if her life had depended on it.

However, _that_ day, the Burger Queen’s saintly maternal self had reached the end of her tether! 

The pretty teenager sat there gloomily in her seat, arms folded across her chest and as silent as the grave, despite Longines’ friendly attempts to lure her into the conversation. She merely scowled when Maya tried to chide her about her surly behavior, and simply turned her head away, simulating interest in looking out the window while completely ignoring them both. 

The Kurain leader was positively _fuming_. Pearl’s uncharacteristically bad attitude made a _complete_ mockery of her parenting skills, not to mention it made the young girl come across as nothing more than a moody, ill-mannered, _brat_! It was _beyond_ embarrassing and frustrating! 

At that moment, as much as the necromancer adored her little girl, there were also times when she just as easily could have cheerfully strangled her! (Then channeled her back somehow... only to strangle her some more!) 

_This_ was one of those times! 

“Um, I’m going to go chat with the pilot about our estimated landing time,” the blond man mumbled awkwardly when the adolescent had refused to even look at him or reply to his kind offer for snacks or refreshments for the second time. Rising from his seat, he set down his plate of sumptuous hors d'oeuvres that he had Maya had been enjoying, which his on-board personal chef had prepared, and gave his friend's shoulder a small, reassuring pat before heading off towards the cockpit. 

_How_ the grumpy Pearl could have turned down sublime fares such as spicy ahi tuna cucumber avocado appetizers with pickled ginger, butternut squash, and sage wontons, mini cornbread crab cakes with lemon-caper sauce, and peach and gorgonzola grilled polenta rounds with chipotle honey was beyond the happily gorging Master’s comprehension! 

The moment Longines left, the diviner delicately brushed away a few stray crumbs from the lap of her stylish new traveling outfit, (a snowy linen sleeveless, A-line frock, worn under a fitted navy blazer with white piping) and affixed her cousin with her best _don’t-mess-with-me_ stare. 

Pearl pretended not to notice, absently adjusting the collar of her lavender trench coat and crossing her black legging-clad ankles while continuing to stare morosely out the window. 

This wasn’t going to be easy. 

Maya honestly wondered why in the name of all seven bloody hells she had ever deemed that she would be exempt from having to deal with this sort of matter with the little urchin she was rearing! She supposed she would chalk it up to partial naivety and partial misplaced hope – if not full belief – that in adolescence _, her_ little girl would be different from the rest.

Well, it turned out she’d been wrong. It would hardly be the first time! 

“Pearly, you know you’re being very rude to Mr. Beaugosse, don’t you?” Maya began, without preamble. “Moreover, I absolutely cannot take it anymore! You were raised better than that and you know it! Are you still angry with me for not telling you that I changed my mind about the matchmaking? Is this your way of punishing me?” 

Silence from the teen, who still refused to even turn her head towards her cousin while she continued to sulk. 

“You swore to me that you understood the circumstances after you spoke with Mystic Matilda; that Longines is only my friend and nobody here is getting married already!” 

_“Yet,”_ the girl muttered under her breath. “And when you do, I won’t be getting a _Daddy_ – I’ll be getting a second _Mommy!”_

_“Pearly!”_ Maya gasped in horror, furtively looking around them to see if Longines was anywhere within earshot – mercifully, he wasn’t. “You mustn’t say such things! That’s not very nice! Did you know that _he_ was the one who not only insisted I bring you along on this trip but paid for both of our new traveling wardrobes, including that very outfit you’ve got on, down to those knee-high leather boots you’re wearing right now, that you said you loved so much?” 

Pearl finally turned to look at her then, lower lip protruding petulantly. 

“Why did you let him do that, Mystic Maya? Now we’re both going to feel indebted to him, and it isn’t right! It’s not as if you don’t have more than enough money of your own! You do realize he's trying to buy your love, right?" 

_Moreover, I'm **selling** it!_ The raven-haired beauty flushed guiltily and fidgeted with her cherry-red leather belt around her waist. 

“Well, it’s not like I _asked –_ Longines _offered!”_ She replied defensively. “Repeatedly! It’s rude to keep saying refusing someone's generosity if they keep insisting, you know!"

Pearl regarded her skeptically. 

“Can I help it if I _like_ it when people buy me things?” Maya admitted sheepishly, her cheeks reddening. “There are far worse things to be guilty of, you know!”

 _Does it make me a bad person that I’ve always been like that? That even when I have had my own money, I never spent it, because it was so much more fun blowing someone else’s? It certainly explained my penchant to keep making Nick go nearly broke buying me my weight in daily burgers way back when, even though he paid me to work for him, to boot!_

“I wish you’d warm up to him, Pearly,” she sighed. “You missed out on a really fun excursion when you refused to come to the mall with us the other day. Longines was such a great shopping buddy for me as I selected the pieces I needed to augment my collection, and even helped me pick out things for you and me both. He’s really a lot of fun once you get to know him, and has a _great_ eye for fashion…” 

“Seriously?” Pearl interrupted, grimacing slightly. “You took clothing advice from that … _fancy_ _man,_ Mystic Maya? But he dresses so _weirdly_ – almost like some sort of overly trendy, _fussy lady!”_

Maya couldn’t say a whole lot to refute _that_ statement. For the trip to the UK, Longines’ outfit that day had consisted of a tight, rose pink, dress shirt and skinny technicolored tie, along with flat-front, slim-fitted, white leather pants, and a cow skin plum belt with a large silver cross skeleton buckle, which was an identical color to his leather wing-tipped loafers. 

OK, so _maybe_ Pearl had a point, she conceded. It was a fact that the man liked to dress to stand out in a crowd and didn’t appear to own one _quiet item_ of clothing in his whole closet! Still, it wasn’t the _clothes that made the man_ , and her suddenly overly judgmental cousin had _no right_ criticizing anyone based on their apparel! 

“Longines is in the hairdressing industry; he’s _allowed_ to be flamboyant and haute couture!” Maya defended at last. “He’s actually a very nice man who only wants to be your friend, if you’d just give him a chance!” 

Pearl ignored that, choosing to remain fixated on her nitpicking of the salon tycoon’s ensemble instead. 

“Humph! I still say he wears too many bright colors at once; it’s like a _rainbow_ upchucked on him!” She declared crossly. “Why can't he dress like a normal man? Mr. Nick never wore bizarre colors and stuff like that –” 

“Alright, Pearl Fey, that’s enough!” Maya exploded, startling them both with the force of her detonation – the teen jumped in her seat slightly. Never before had Pearl seen her cousin so incensed. “You’ve got to let this whole Nick thing go already! That part of our lives is _over_ now, and you _have_ to accept that, no matter how much it still hurts!”

Sudden tears sprang to in her dark eyes then and she brushed them away impatiently. 

Pearl saw the pain in her guardian’s glistening orbs and felt her own lips beginning to quiver.

“Mystic Maya, listen –” 

“No, _you_ listen! We _both_ need to move on! Nick’s made his choice, and he’s _gone for good_ , Pearly. And h-he’s never coming back.” Maya sniffled slightly and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “ _I_ wasn’t the one who made that decision, _he_ did, remember? He’s with Iris and that’s _that_. _She’s_ the one he loves now, _n-not_ _me_.” 

The spirit medium’s mind flashed back to her visit with her half-sister the week prior at Eagle Mountain and opened her mouth to respond to this particular regard, but then changed her mind and swallowed hard as she took in the village leader’s grief-stricken expression. Shaking her head slightly, she bit down so hard on her lower lip it nearly bled. 

“You’re right, Mystic Maya,” Pearl whispered, nibbling at her thumb and dropping her eyes, knowing she’d be unable to hold her tongue if she looked at her cousin’s sorrowful face for another moment. “I - I’m sorry. Please, don’t be sad.”

She reached over and gently squeezed Maya’s hand, forcing a smile for her benefit.

“I’ll be good! I promise I will be nice to your friend from now on. You have my word.” 

The look of tearful thanks on Maya’s face was almost more than Pearl could bear. She closed her eyes and flopped back against her seat, heaving a soundless sigh. 

_Mystic Ami, forgive me. I hope I just did the right thing..._

* * *

**_Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_**  
 _London, England_  
May 3, 2025, 3:30 PM

London greeted Maya like an old reliable friend. Red double-deckers, black cabs, blue-uniformed police officers, and gray clouds ... could she be _anywhere_ else? 

A gentle drizzle greeted the three of them upon arrival. As they wove among the crowds and tried to hail a cab, the Feys followed Longines about as they clutched their wheeled suitcases in one hand and their brollies in the other. The blond man knew the bustling city like the back of his hand, and excitedly pointed out points of interest amidst the umbrella-bearing pedestrians who were also battling against rain while the vehicles rumbled by around Oxford Street. 

At last, Longines got them settled into a taxi. After instructing the driver to bill his credit card once the girls arrived at their intended destination, he then waved a cheerful goodbye to Maya and Pearl as he headed off to attend that afternoon’s business function, promising he’d be joining them in a few hours to enjoy some scones and Devonshire cream with their host. 

As the cab rolled along the roads, which were now familiarizing themselves again to Maya’s memory nearly a decade later, the clouds rolled back then, and the late afternoon sun brought the whole city, shining, into view. Both girls stared with awe from the rain-splattered windows at the swarms of people that moved in each direction, and the sights whizzing by as they absorbed their surroundings. 

There was Battersea Power Station, standing proud with its four great chimneys still intact, even though much of its roof had long ago been eaten away. Behind it, Battersea Park appeared as a square of dense green bushes and trees that were making a last stand, fighting back the urban spread. In the far distance, the Millennium wheel perched like a fabulous silver coin, balancing effortlessly on its rim. In addition, all around it, London crouched; gas towers and apartment blocks, endless rows of shops and houses, roads, railways, and bridges stretching away on both sides, separated only by the bright sliver crack in the landscape that was the River Thames. 

They rolled along past the busy city, just to the outskirts of London towards their destination. 

“Oh, this is all so incredible, Mystic Maya!” Pearl clapped her hands excitedly as she beamed with genuine pleasure at her cousin. “Thank you so much for bringing me along – and I can’t wait to meet your friend!” 

“You’ll love him; he’s great! I wonder if it’s still tea time at his place?” Maya quipped, delighted at the sudden switch in Pearl’s disposition. “Oh, who am I kidding – this is England – tea time is _anytime_!”

She hugged herself with glee.

“Oh, Pearly, I have _missed_ this place! It’s so good to be back!” 

They neared their host’s residence, which from a distance, looked so small it looked more like a doll's house than a human dwelling. The walls were like cold set oatmeal, painted white. There were two little windows at the front, each no larger than a sheet of tabloid newspaper, with window frames of mahogany. There appeared to be no upstairs to the place, which had a grey slate roof and a large chimney poked out of one side of the roof and a small chimney out of the other. It seemed alive and welcoming, a warm ribbon of smoke rising from the old chimney. A neat pile of chopped wood was stacked against the side of the place. 

Maya saw a narrow dirt path leading to the front door. On either side of the trail, there was a wilderness of nettles and blackberry thorns and long brown grass, an enormous oak tree stood overshadowing the cottage. Its massive spreading branches seemed to be enfolding and embracing the tiny building, and perhaps hiding it as well from the rest of the world. 

“We’re here!” She announced, slipping a few pound notes into the driver’s hand as appreciation for carrying their bags to the front door, on which she gave a short succession of raps to announce their arrival. “I do hope he’s not upset we arrived a little later than expected!” 

The door opened then, and Maya came face-to-face with one of the few men from her past with whom she had nothing but the fondest of memories. 

“Welcome back to England, and to my humble abode, Maya.” The lilting accent and proper speech manner of the soft-spoken English gentleman hadn’t changed one bit. “It has been far too long.” 

_“Professor!”_ She squealed and lurched forward to give her old friend an enormous hug, nearly knocking off his top hat in the process. “I’ve missed you _so_ much!” 

Pearl barely stifled a giggle at the blush that stained the fair cheeks of the man who was currently struggling to remain standing upright due to the vigor of Maya’s greeting. Deducing from the stories she’d heard, she assumed he was in his early 40’s now, although based on the photos she’d seen from her cousin’s last visit with him, Hershel Layton looked exactly as he had back then, down to the same brown coat over a dark orange shirt, brown pants, and a pair of dark green shoes. 

At last, Layton detangled himself from Maya’s arms and noticed the petite teen standing behind her, smiling shyly. The wise, intelligent dark eyes that turned in Pearl’s direction glowed with gentle kindness and friendliness unlike any she’d ever seen before, and she liked him instantly. 

“You must be Pearl.” He tipped his hat at her and then clasped her hands warmly within his own. “It is such a pleasure to at last meet the young woman about whom Maya has been regaling me with tales over the years in her emails. Welcome to England, and my home. Please do come in.” 

Inside the homey cottage, the Feys took in the gentle crackle of the wood-fire, blazing cheerily in the ample fireplace, sending its warmth and light far out into the room, flashing red reflections all over the walls, with a small settee and two armchairs pulled inward to the warmth. 

On the richly carved mantel there stood an exquisite plate-glass clock, the chimes of which were just striking four, and, keeping it company to right and left, were two dainty figures of a shepherd and shepherdess in Dresden china. The remaining mantel space was filled with tiny figures in bisque – a dachshund, a cat, and kittens – a porcelain box, heart-shaped, the top covered with china forget-me-nots, a silver drinking-cup, a small oval portrait on ivory of a beautiful young woman, framed in richly chased gold, the inner rim set round with pearls. A blue pitcher of Cloisonné and a tray of filigree silver heaped with dainty cotillion favors stood on one end; on the other, a crystal vase filled with white tulips. 

Two medium windows let in natural light. The windows were mullioned, overlooking the rose garden in the front yard. A radio played classical music softly in the background, and the smell of freshly baked biscuits wafted out to greet them as Maya walked through, a smile spreading over her face as she set her bags and umbrella down by the settee and took a seat, with Pearl mimicking the action. The house had hints of Elizabethan touches, with wooden panels along the corridors, small, ornate chandeliers, and oil paintings of old bearded men in tunics and ruffs. 

Layton presented the girls with his favorite tea blend - Belle Classic, along with some warm, buttery biscuits and preserves, before taking a seat in the tweed armchair across from the girls. 

“I hope the tea is to your liking, although if it’s too bitter, I am brewing another pot, Oasis Berry if you prefer something sweeter. It’s Luke’s favorite.” The Professor cast an idle glance at his watch and his brow furrowed a tad. “Hmmm, he really should have been here by now. I wonder what’s delaying him.” 

_Luke_? Pearl’s ears perked up. For some reason, Maya’s other English gentleman-in-training friend had escaped her mind. She was dying to meet him; she hoped he’d arrive soon. 

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon. And don’t worry about the tea, it’s great, Professor, but thank you.” Maya sipped her tea pleasurably and smiled. “I’m sorry it’s been a while since we last corresponded, so I know we have a lot of catching up to do! What are you doing with yourself these days? And how about little Luke?!” 

“My former apprentice just turned 18, and is now taller than you and I both, so he’s not so little anymore,” Layton chuckled in response. “He had some matters to take care of, but was most eager to assure me he will be here for supper by the time your other companion arrives this evening, especially when I told him I would be making roast lamb for dinner, which happens to be his favorite.” 

The Professor then proceeded to fill them in on things since Maya had seen him last. Although on summer holidays from school presently, Luke was majoring in Linguistics and minoring in Archaeology, as well as being the Professor’s teaching assistant at Gressenheller University. Layton had once taught there, but now could only squeeze in time to do the odd lecture hall, in between his duties of now being the _Chief Archaeologist for the Crown!_ For all his work in the field and contributions of mystery-solving and aiding Scotland Yard in maintaining the safety of his country, he’d been _knighted_ by the Queen, five years ago! 

“Wow, you’re an actual _knight_ now?” Maya gasped. “Not like, a fake Labyrinthia, brain-washed knight who’s in armor but is just playing the part, like Barnham and those other metal lunks, but a real, genuine, knight? Should we be addressing you as Sir instead of Professor? Or Sir Professor?!” 

Pearl was amazed as well. Over the years, during their business meetings and travels, she and Maya had met various aristocrats, blue bloods, and even royalty from numerous parts of the world, but she had never met a _real knight_ before! She belatedly wondered if they should have curtsied the Professor in greeting like they had when they’d met the Earl of Verdunia or the Prince of Santa Clara, but found herself too shy to ask. 

Layton shared some of the fascinating tales and adventures he and Luke had had, from the time they had uncovered a mysterious village consisting of robots posing as humans, to scientific time-warped experiments that went ‘bonk’ to the series of events that had led him to the finding and adopting of his daughter, Flora Reinhold. 

“Flora will be sorry to have missed you, but she’s away at boarding school until it lets out in June.” Layton sipped his tea pleasurably. “She’s about your age, Pearl. How old are you?” 

“I’ll be 16 this fall.” 

“Ah, so she is the same age as you are. Such a delightful girl. She’s off to Oxford soon enough and wants to major in Art History. Tell me, Pearl, have you considered any sort of post-secondary studies?” 

“Not really,” Pearl replied hesitantly. “Mostly everything I’d ever studied in Kurain was occult related and any time I’m not furthering my spiritual knowledge is spent being Mystic Maya’s second in command whenever she’s gone on local travels. But having had access to the big world out there since we’ve had the internet does make me curious sometimes about what the universe beholds. It’s something I think maybe I’d like to do if given the opportunity, but I don’t know if I’d have the time.” 

“Pearly, I had no idea you were interested in pursuits outside the village!” Maya sounded surprised. “You never mentioned anything before!” 

The teen shrugged. She’d been keeping mum about _a lot_ of things recently, and her cousin’s _hair would curl_ if she knew about them! 

“Perhaps some individual courses of interest then, or even summer or day camps?” Layton ventured. “They have such things in your area I’m sure, just so you can have some adventures with people of your own age.” 

“That sounds like something worth exploring,” Pearl murmured, blushing. No doubt the way her eyes had lit up at the mention of Luke’s name must have tipped the observant man off to how starved she was for companionship from fellow peers. As much as she thought Layton was delightful, it had been ages since she’d had someone her own age to talk to; it seemed like it had been a dog’s age since she’d seen Trucy, and who knew _when_ or _if_ she would again, all things considered? 

The three of them resumed conversation and for the next little while, the Kurain leader regaled the Professor with particulars on everything from her Master’s duties and travels to the revamping modernizing she’d done with Kurain since she’d become village leader. She conspicuously, Pearl noted, seemed to be steering any possible conversation at all from veering toward the pink elephant in the room, even laughingly told Layton some of the more amusing anecdotes of Mildred. Layton had to lift his teacup to hide his amused smile when Maya cited the Dragon Lady as her _bête noire_ and detailed how she’d stuck the old hag with outhouse digging duty to correspond to the implemented rental cabins, which had created extra revenue for their hometown. 

A good few hours of laughter and conversation had gone by, and there was still no mention of Phoenix whatsoever. Setting down his teacup, at last, the Professor studied Maya with a puzzled frown. 

“The regrettable circumstances regarding Mr. Wright’s disbarring made worldwide news, Maya, and was therefore brought to my attention through the media. I haven’t heard from him in years, despite my efforts at correspondence, and was wondering how he was faring? Has that matter been resolved? Have the two of you kept in touch?” 

The spirit medium’s hot beverage sloshed over the sides of her teacup as it slipped from her fingers and onto her saucer with a loud clink. It was the only sound in the suddenly silent room.

Pearl could feel the anxiety in her chest waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wanted to protect her, even though there wasn’t any dangerous situation. Nevertheless, it sat there like an angry ball propelling her towards a panic attack she just didn't need. The teen's mouth was as dry as cotton balls as she swiveled her head and caught the look of unmistakable agony on her cousin’s face, which she wasn’t quick enough to conceal, as well as noting Maya’s fingernails digging into her palms, as she was clenching her fists so tightly, deep markings would surely be left behind. 

Carefully placing the china down on the table and safely out of reach, Pearl felt completely hapless; she had no clue what to do to make matters easier for the Master in answering the innocuous and unintended intrusive question but found herself at a loss. 

“He still has not regained his badge that I am aware of.” Maya kept the faux placid grin on her face, although her posture was tensely rigid. “I'm sorry to report that, what with my Master’s duties and a village to run, I have been very busy the past six years, and my … communications with _Mr. Wright_ have unfortunately dwindled.” 

The shift in her entire demeanor, from pleasant to downright pained, was not lost on the Professor, and his gentle eyes darkened with concern. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that time has made you and Mr. Wright strangers, Maya,” Layton said tactfully. “The two of you seemed to have such a close connection when I saw you last. I hope Mr. Wright gets matters settled soon enough, and has the support he needs to get him through this surely difficult time.” 

“I’m sure he does,” Maya replied stiffly. “The last I heard, he was dating my cousin, Iris, who is a shrine maiden at Hazakura Temple, which is in close quarters to my village. She is a woman of most … amiable and hospital disposition, having been raised by a nun, and am sure she’s been everything Mr. Wright could possibly need.” 

The stress spread through her mind like ink on paper. Pearl took in a deep, ragged breath before placing her hands, enclosed together, onto her lap to quell the sudden tightness in her chest. 

“I need to get some air,” she blurted out, jumping to her feet. “I’m going to take a little stroll out back.” She was already halfway down the front hall before either Maya or the Professor could react, that was how quickly she’d moved. 

“What’s the matter? What do mean you’re taking a walk, Pearly?” Maya cried plaintively. “It’s nearly six already and surely Longines and Luke will be here soon for supper and you don’t know your way around this place and you could get lost…” 

“I – I won’t be long, Mystic Maya.” Undaunted, Pearl reached for the handle of the front door, and avoiding her distressed cousin’s gaze, shifted her eyes to the Professor, allowing him to see the pleading look on her face. “I promise to be back in time for dinner. Please don’t worry about me. I – I just want to explore these beautiful woods out back…” 

A look of understanding crossed Layton’s face, and he placed a cajoling hand on Maya’s shoulder. 

“It will be daylight out for another couple of hours, Maya. Pearl is not a child and seems to be the most levelheaded young lady. I’m sure she’ll be fine. You and I still have so much catching up to do – I wish to hear more about this _bête noire_ of yours.” He gently steered Maya back towards the living room and flashed the teen a reassuring smile. “If you stick to the main stone trial, Pearl, it will take you down to a little river, but then loops back to the cottage. It is very easy to follow back and should take you no more than an hour at most.” 

“Thank you so much, Professor,” Pearl smiled gratefully. “I’ll be back soon!” 

The teen sprinted out the door then, barely pausing to shut it behind her, before her cousin could make any more protests. Her heart pounding, she broke into a sprint down the directed path that had been indicated. She approached the forest, carefully refastened the row of buttons on her lavender coat, took a huge breath, and set off, her mind racing. She was certain if she’d remained there another minute, she would have uttered a litany of tightly suppressed confessions itching on the tip of her tongue to Maya, which would have undoubtedly resulted in nothing but disaster! 

Once Pearl was deep in the woods though, she felt herself calming down slightly and allowed herself to bask in the wondrous natural beauty of the surrounding forest, and the feeling of the silky smooth leaves brushing against her hands as she heard the melodious chirping of the birds in the trees. She tilted her head up and let the rays of warm, amber evening sunlight dance across her face while she stared up at the small patches of the clear blue sky peering in through the trees, as tall as skyscrapers. She picked a small blackberry from a bush and popped it into her mouth, immediately feeling its sweet and tangy taste. The tranquil atmosphere in the forest had soothed her nerves, with the only audible sound being her crunching footsteps on the leaves. 

Alone at last with her thoughts, the spirit medium now had the privacy to reflect upon the sudden turnabout that had become her life since the fateful day Mr. Nick had broken up with her cousin. What a series of unfortunate events that had led to be! 

For one thing, she missed the Gumshoes, and especially _Trucy,_ so much it _hurt_. 

The magician had tried to reach her on numerous occasions, both by phone and email, as she was blissfully unaware of the heartbreaking circumstances regarding her father, and the spirit medium was embarrassed to admit that she’d been playing a shameless, unforgivable game of duck and dodge each time her former ‘sister’ had tried to make contact. She didn’t know how to act or know what to say anymore to the girl she’d once loved as a sibling, especially knowing how in the dark Trucy had been about her cousin’s relationship with her father, any more than she’d know how to respond to the inquiries of when she would next be coming down to the city to visit. Her caregiver hadn’t been to Los Angeles since the breakup and Pearl couldn’t think of any feasible reason to venture down there if they weren’t attending a conference. Besides, the idea of associating with anyone who had broken her cousin’s heart seemed disloyal, despite Maya’s benign reassurance that Pearl needn’t sever ties with Phoenix’s daughter. 

As much as she was looking forward to seeing the Gumshoes – they still didn’t know about the split and Maya had insisted it was _her_ business when or if to tell – at Maggey’s baby shower, the pretzel-haired girl dreaded the inevitable confrontation she would have with the justifiably hurt girl for ghosting on her. No doubt, when it was done in real life and not as a magic trick, Pearl’s disappearing act had probably caused the other girl much pain, and the guilt gnawed away at her daily. 

Also, to go down to see Trucy meant she’d risk seeing Phoenix himself, and feeling towards him as she did – especially armed with her recent newfound knowledge – she was afraid setting eyes on the man she’d loved as a father, and still missed dreadfully, would result in her bursting into tears, slapping him six ways from Sunday, or both! It was a risk she just didn’t want to take! 

That extra information she’d recently acquired, however unwittingly, from Iris was the biggest cross to bear…

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey and Iris Hawthorne_**  
 _Hazakura Temple_  
April 26, 2025, 7:15 PM

It was like a Mexican standoff for two as the sisters stared unwaveringly at one another. 

“I want some honest answers. _And I want them now_.” 

The weight of the words hung over the half-siblings like a storm cloud. 

Iris shifted nervously. The younger girl’s stare was as uncomfortable as a showgirl corset and had the same effect on her breathing, which was suddenly constricted and shallow. There was no leniency in those simmering gray orbs, currently boring holes into her. Every move Pearl made, from the rigidness of her shoulders to the rolling and unrolling of her sleeve, betrayed her intentions, none of which were noble. 

The shrine maiden wilted under her sibling’s glare and dropped her gaze. It wasn't just the cool determination in those eyeballs so much as the intelligence behind them that made her quiver. In the gap between her eyes and Pearl’s, a battle was fought and the spirit medium trounced without flinching. 

"Whether you can face looking me in the eye or not makes no difference to me! I’m not leaving here until I have the answers I seek.” When push came to shove, Pearl Fey had a way of not mincing her words. She folded her arms tightly over her freshly ironed acolyte uniform. For such a small, frail girl, she was kinda badass. 

“It’s, ah… funny that you asked me about Feenie, Pearl.” Iris took a hesitant step backward. “I er…was on my way to give him a call right now... just before you came along…” She forced herself to smile convincingly. 

“I'll just _bet_ you were!” Pearl growled, already rolling up her sleeve again. “You know you've ruined my life right? Mine _and_ Mystic Maya's! It's all _your_ fault I might have some weird, flouncy dandy man who’s even prettier than my cousin for a new daddy now!” 

Iris studied the ground beneath her sandal.

“You blame me for their break up, don't you?” 

Animus and enmity welled up in Pearl’s heart, so deep that it was ingrained in the tissue itself as she felt the fury burning her up. 

“I _hate_ you!” The teenager shouted, her voice nearly breaking. “The three of us – me, Mystic Maya and Mr. Nick…we were like a little family! I even had found a new _sister_ with his daughter! Everything was going great – it was only a matter of time before he cleared his name and we could all be together … until _you_ came along and ruined everything!” 

Iris gulped.

“Pearl…” 

“How could you break up the home of your own flesh and blood?! He was going to marry her! Did you know he gave her a promise ring?! You’re hardly any better than that wretched, psychotic twin of yours, if not _worse!”_ The girl’s cheeks were bright pink with rage. “You’re _just_ as much an evil sorceress as _Dahlia_ was!” 

Iris cringed but couldn’t find a suitable response. 

“What are you, some sort of _witch_ just your insane twin sister?” Pearl put her hands on her hips and glowered at the other woman scathingly. “Tell me, how _did_ you _bewitch_ Mr. Nick’s mind and heart to make him turn away from Mystic Maya, and just suddenly decide to _leave us both_ … for _you,_ huh? What _spell_ did you cast on him?” 

“I didn't do anything!” Iris whispered tearfully. “Feenie … _he_ came to _me_ Pearl. I _swear_ to you, I’m telling you the truth.” 

“That’s _not_ the _point_!” The infuriated spirit medium was unmoved at the sight of the flooded eyes gazing back at her. “In the end, it’s all the same! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slap you from here to the moon!” 

“You can hit me if you want if it’s going to make you feel better, Pearl.” Iris bowed her head in submission. “But you should know it's not going to change anything.” 

The youngest Fey faltered slightly at the painful veracity of the words and slowly rolled down her sleeve again and let out a browbeaten sigh. 

“Why’s that?” She asked defeatedly. “Because _you love him_ that much?” 

Limpid brown eyes met resigned gray ones.

“I never stopped.” 

“And... _he_ feels the same way about _you_?” Pearl bit her lip to keep it from trembling. 

Iris cast a downcast glance before replying. “I-I’d like to think so.” 

“So what you're trying to tell me is that… you and Mr. Nick...you’re _Special Someones_ now?” Pearl felt numb then, the fight draining out of her completely. 

Iris hesitated but didn’t raise her eyes from the ground.

“ _Y-yes_.” 

Gray eyes widened then and stared at speechlessly at the older woman. However, the shrine maiden refused to look at her anymore and had already turned away.

“Look, Pearl, someday…when the dust all clears… I hope you can get past this and accept me as your sister. I’m more than happy to accept _you_ as _mine_. However, I have to go now. I –I promised Feenie I'd call him before he heads out to work. Take care.” 

Pearl was still silently rooted in the same spot as Iris left and walked back into the temple. True to her word, the nun made a beeline to the telephone. 

“Feenie love...it's me Rissy. I’ve got some really important news that I need to tell you, and I don't want to do it on the phone. Let me know when you can come up and see me next. Call me when you’re done your shift. I miss you. Bye now.”

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey_**  
 _Layton’s Woods, England_  
May 3, 2025

_Mystic Ami, help me. I don’t know what to do. I’ve always tried to do the right thing … but I don’t know what that is anymore!_

The gloomy teen jammed her hands in her pockets and kicked a large stone in her path, and watched as it scuttled off to the side of the dirt footpath she’d been following.

 _Wait?! What? **Dirt** path? What had happened to the **stone** path I was following?!_

Pearl looked around her with a startled gasp. With panicked eyes, she cast a glance skyward and saw that without her notice, the beautiful evening sun above had rescinded to near vanishing at this point, and as she looked down at the ground, she was frightened and dismayed that the familiar stone trail she’d sworn she was trekking on was no longer beneath her feet. 

Somehow, it appeared she had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed she’d veered off the main path and was now going in a completely different and unknown direction, deeper and deeper into the dense woods. 

_OK …don’t panic_ , she thought wildly, even though her every instinct was internally screaming at her to do _just_ that. Sure, she didn’t have a watch with her, so she had no idea how long she’d been out there, and was sure Maya was panicking enough about her daughter’s absence for the _both_ of them. Nor did she have a compass, or even a cell phone to call for help… 

Stifling a terrified sob, she looked about her unfamiliar surroundings and wondered if she should stay put in case Maya and the Professor eventually came to find her, or keep plodding ahead, and search for that elusive river he’d mentioned to her, as from there would be the trail that looped back towards his home. 

A branch snapped behind her from somewhere and she jumped in fright. 

Flopping down onto a fallen tree log then, the tiny spirit medium buried her head in her hands. She’d never felt more powerless or vulnerable in her entire life. 

For the next five minutes, she strained her vocals until nearly nothing came out, but still, she screamed, hoping _someone_ would hear her. Suddenly, her body wracked with raw sobs and she shook like a leaf. Fright consumed every cell in her body, swelling them with terror. With every second she practically felt the rise of her blood pressure, but she knew that this was the least of her worries. 

_I’m lost in the forest in a foreign country,_ Pearl realized frantically, fear coursing through her veins and making her heart thud rapidly in her chest. _I’m literally….a lost…babe in the woods!_

In the distance, all of a sudden, she thought she heard a growling noise, soon followed by an unmistakably distinct snarling sound ... then a series of furious canine barks. And it sounded as though they were coming closer!

 _Was that a dog…or a_ **_wolf_?** The girl wondered with alarm. _Do they even have wolves in England?_ _OK, I really shouldn’t have decided to think of that movie **An** **American Werewolf In London** just now, of all times…_

_“Helllllp!”_ She cried hysterically as panicked tears sprang to her eyes. “ _Someone! Anyone! Please! Help me!”_


	96. Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have nothing but admiration and respect for the beautiful countries of England and France and their people, ergo; I hope none of my readers take any offense to my attempts at local/foreign wit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wise men say  
> Only fools rush in  
> But I can't help falling in love with you  
> Shall I stay?  
> Would it be a sin  
> If I can't help falling in love with you?
> 
> Like a river flows  
> Surely to the sea  
> Darling, so it goes  
> Some things are meant to be  
> Take my hand,  
> Take my whole life, too  
> For I can't help falling in love with you

**_Pearl Fey_** _  
Layton’s Woods, England_  
May 3, 2025  


Although no animal expert, the spirit medium knew the worst thing to do when confronted with any sort of canine, wild or domestic, was to run and allow the animal to give chase, allowing their primitive wolf instincts to take over. Instead, she dimly recalled, somewhere within the faded recesses of her horrorstruck mind, that you were supposed to stand your ground and confront the creature. However, you were also not to make direct eye contact and should remain still, all the while showing no fear, as all dogs could innately smell it. 

The _stay-put_ part was easy enough for the quivering teen. First, her fashionable, high-heeled boots weren’t at all practical for sprinting – they wouldn't even allow her to outrun a peg-legged senior citizen, never mind a spry animalof any sort! On top of that, her scampering efforts would undoubtedly draw even more attention from all the resulting rustle and noise! 

Secondly, in her current petrified state, Pearl found herself helplessly _frozen_ on that log and unable to move in the slightest! The spirit medium was utterly paralyzed with fear as the sounds of the barking grew steadily louder, and the beast appeared to be drawing nearer and nearer. Whimpering slightly, she curled herself up into a ball, hugged her knees to her chest, dropped her head down, and sobbed about her impending fate. 

The loud barking ceased … now reduced to smaller, softer, yipping noises. 

Peeking through her fingers, Pearl glanced down to see the source of the sound, which now sounded like it was coming from _directly before her!_

Immediately, her terror abated, and the young girl was both mortified by her ludicrous trepidations, while simultaneously reduced into a puddle of _goo_. 

In front of the teen, resting on its hind legs so its front paws were perched upon the log beside her, was the most _adorable, gorgeous little puppy_ she’d ever seen in her life! The tiny animal was compact of body, not even a foot in height, with a baby-doll face, a poodle-like, fluffy white coat, and the hugest, button black eyes! Its tiny pink tongue was extended into a goofy grin, with its little fuzzy tail happily wagging as it nudged its pert wet nose against her fingers, begging to be petted.

The fact that she was _still_ utterly lost in the woods, while in a foreign land, would occur to her again later. Right now, _puppy!_

Squealing with delight this time, rather than terror, the girl reached down and stroked the extended furry head on its exposed parts, noting that most in a matter most bizarre, the puppy’s crown was covered by a pint-sized … _helmet_? 

“Aren’t you the sweetest, most darling thing?” Pearl cooed, giggling as the puppy kept yapping while it licked her fingers. “How on earth did an _itty, bitty little_ guy like you make such a _big, scary_ racket in the forest? You nearly scared me half to death! But you’re _soooo_ cute, I’ll forgive you! Are you lost too? You look well-groomed and cared for, so you’re obviously not homeless! Plus, stray dogs wouldn’t have such an _adorable_ little helmet! Wherever is your owner, fella?” 

The fluffy ball of fuzziness continued to yip, then made a sudden leap up onto the log, right into the unsuspecting Pearl’s arms, happily wagging its tail the whole time. 

“Affectionate little thing, aren’t you?" She laughed, cradling the puppy in her arms like a baby and reveling in its fuzzy warmth against her. “I wonder what your name is?” 

“ _Constantine_!” A male voice called out just then. “Constantine! Where are you? Come back here, boy!” 

The next thing Pearl knew, there was a rustle in the surrounding bushes and out popped a slightly winded, panting boy, not much older than she was, who she could only presume was the little white bundle of fur’s owner.

“ _There_ you are!” The youth exclaimed thankfully as he caught sight of the puppy, whose name appeared to be Constantine. The relieved smile on his mien faded slightly as he finally took notice of the girl who was holding his pet. His startled eyes met Pearl’s, his expression unreadable, without blinking, and simply stared. 

Pearl stared right back. 

At this point in life, she was certainly well-mannered enough to refrain from gawking at random strangers. However, this lad before her, radiating with nothing but grace, had her _enthralled_. He was mesmerizing in every way. Tawny-colored hair peeked out from underneath a blue news cap, which was identical in shade to the blue sweater he wore over his a white shirt, along with viridian shorts, which fell just past the knees of his strong, toned calves. The faint glimmer of the remaining evening sun ghosted over his fair skin, and his eyes were deep wells of melted caramel and chocolate combined. Also, when those very orbs had shifted and finally acknowledged her presence, a surge of understanding had both calmed and further mystified her at the same time.

For once in her life, the girl who had always been cautioned by her mother to be wary of strangers had her breath taken away by a total stranger – _by the eyes_ of a total stranger. 

At that precise moment, as Pearl first laid her eyes on him, she knew _exactly_ what it meant to be _spellbound_. 

Constantine squirmed slightly in her arms, so with great reluctance, she set him down on the ground, grateful for the reprieve of the staring match the boy seemed determined to have with her.

The puppy ran to the boy immediately, happily resuming his merry barking while pawing at his bare leg but the bloke’s eyes remained fixated on the now blushing spirit medium. 

Pearl rose from the log then and ducked her head shyly, still rendered speechless. The only thing that came out of her mouth at that moment was the mentioning of the puppy, and even then, the words came out shaky and quiet.

“Constantine, is that his name? I’m happy to have been able to keep a hold of him for you,” she mumbled. “He’s such a gorgeous little puppy.” 

The chap cleared his throat before he spoke, his lilting accent identical to the Professor’s and equally as smooth and cultured.

“Yes, thank you for doing that, Miss. He’s surprisingly spry for his age. Don’t let the size fool you, he’s not a puppy anymore. I believe he’s pushing nine now, actually. Constantine normally isn’t so friendly with strangers, but he really seems to like _you_ ….”

His voice off then and the rest of his words were unspoken, but unnecessary, as they both heard the end of the hanging sentence… 

_“Can’t say I blame him._ _”_

The two smiled at one another like a couple of goofy, love-struck teenagers …which was _exactly_ what they both were! 

Constantine continued to yip. 

“He sure is _chatty_ little guy, isn’t he?” Pearl noted. “I wish I could understand what he was saying!” 

“Erm, _I_ can.” The boy’s cheeks turned rufescent. “He thinks your hair looks like a big, delicious pretzel, and he _really_ wants to _eat_ it.” An amused smile tugged at the corner of his full lips. “He’s going to be _very_ disappointed in a minute when I tell him he’s not allowed to!” 

Pearl self-consciously raised a hand to her double loops and dropped her eyes to the ground again, her cheeks turning even rosier with embarrassment. 

“Hush now, boy, I can only relay one message at a time!” The boy peered down at Constantine, who was still yipping insistently. “I’ll _tell_ her, all right? Give me a moment!” 

Pearl tilted her head to the side and regarded the English youth strangely. While she’d seen and heard many pet owners talking to their animals, this particular lad _literally_ appeared to be having a conversation with his, as though he could _truly_ understand what the snowy pup was trying to convey! 

“Ahem. My runaway canine also wants me to tell you something else,” the boy murmured, looking her right in the eyes this time, despite the high color mounting on his cheeks. “He says that he meant no offense with the pretzel comment because he loves them; it’s just that they’re his favorite treat, and that style suits you _perfectly_. And, um … Constantine also wants me to tell you…”

He cleared his throat nervously.

“…that he thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his whole life.” 

Pearl’s cheeks warmed again, this time with bashful pleasure, as she peeked up at the boy through her lashes. 

“Please tell Constantine I said thank you and that he’s quite the charming little gentleman poodle.” 

“Bichon Frise actually ... Gentleman… _Gah_!” The bloke groaned and clapped a hand to his face. “Beg your pardon … I cannot _believe_ I have taken such leave of my manners and have been standing here, playing _The Dog Whisperer_ with you, before I even introduced myself!”

He removed his hat then, and a shock of thick, sandy hair fell forward as he bowed ever so slightly.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss. My name is Luke Triton.” He replaced his cap on his head and beamed winsomely at her as he extended his hand. 

_“Luke!”_ Pearl gasped, forgetting to offer her hand because she was so astounded. “ _You’re_ Luke? The Professor’s friend? You must know Mystic Maya then!” 

“I do indeed…” Luke studied her intently, his gaze falling on her magatama, which was peeking from beneath her jacket, and a broad smile of recognition crept across his adorable face. “ _You_ must be Pearl, Maya’s cousin!” 

Pearl nodded, finally recovering enough to offer him her hand now. He clasped it firmly and held it in both of his own while continuing to smile warmly at her. She couldn’t help but flush some more at the contact with his skin. His touch was so _warm_! 

“I am delighted to meet you at last,” Luke enthused. “I knew you and your cousin were coming this afternoon, and I fully intended to at the Professor’s house to greet you two ladies! However, at the _last minute_ , Constantine’s owner, Barnham, decided to rope me into pet sitting for the weekend, while he whisks his girlfriend away to Paris because he wants to surprise propose to her at the Eiffel Tower! He didn’t show up until _half-past five_ , the git! And then, as soon as the pup and I got to the cottage, the little rascal ran off on me! I’ve been chasing him for the better part of an hour, if not more!”

He reluctantly released her hand and frowned at his watch.

“Oh dear, _longer_ than that! It’s almost half-past _seven_ now!” 

“ _Please_ tell me you’re kidding!” Pearl buried her face in her hands. “I’ve been gone _so_ much longer than I planned to be! Mystic Maya is going to _kill_ me! I’d only planned to take a short little stroll, but I somehow got lost, you see, and was so scared I’d never find my way back! Lucky for me that Constantine came along when he did…” 

“Well, I’m quite chuffed myself! That must have been quite nerve-wracking, you poor thing, losing your path in a strange country, in the middle of nowhere.” 

“I’m not normally this careless,” she admitted sheepishly. “I could have _sworn_ I was following the stone path to the river that the Professor told me about, but the woods are just so beautiful, and I guess I just got distracted and started thinking …I don’t know. Anyway, thanks so much for coming to my rescue, Luke.” 

“A gentleman is always glad to help out a damsel in distress!” He flashed a cheeky grin. “Although, _I_ can’t take credit fully. It’s a good thing Constantine here was being so mischievous and decided to make me go run after him!” 

“You adorable little troublemaker!” Pearl crouched down and scooped the dog back up into her arms. Constantine responded by licking her nose. “I just love him to pieces! You say he’s not normally friendly with strangers?” 

“Not at all.” Luke shook his head. “He belongs to the former knight, Zacharias Barnham, and was trained to be a little warrior pup! Even though the Labyrinthian knights have since disbanded, he’s still always instinctively poised to strike! I guess old habits die hard. Moreover, we can’t get him to relinquish that helmet! He whimpers and cries if you try to remove it!”

He chuckled then.

“I guess Mr. Wright didn’t fill you in on how many times Constantine tried to make a snack out of him during his and Maya’s last couple of visits!” 

“Constantine _bit_ Mr. Nick?!” Pearl barely suppressed a smirk. 

_Humph! Serves him right! I love this little guy **even more** now!_

“ _Repeatedly_!” His dark eyes danced with laughter. “This is a rare case of his _bite_ _being worse than his bark_ , trust me!” 

The two began to head back in the direction of the cottage, chatting idly and freely, as though they’d known one another for years. It turned out that Luke _literally_ could speak to animals of all shapes and sizes, and was further honing his skills taking linguistics. She suspended all disbelief and instinctively knew he was telling the truth – after all, _she_ could communicate with ghosts … were animals _really_ so farfetched? 

Now that she was no longer lost, Pearl was happy to resume her enjoyment of what seemed to be an enchanted wood, right down to the fireflies that twinkled like fairy lights in the trees. The fallen leaves scudded over the ground and took small flights into the air. As she tossed her head back and raised her eyes to the sky, a smile spread from cheek to cheek. The branches swayed in a chaotic dance, hypnotically beautiful. With Luke by her side, she found her frayed mind finally relaxing, and felt newfound happiness of life bubble up from within. The light she’d been keeping inside began to escape from her pores. 

If she had overcome _all_ of her shyness at this point in front of the handsome teen at her side, she would have spun like a little girl again; arms out wide and fingers spread, but instead kept her hands in her pockets and contented herself deeply inhaling the sweet smells of nature. The mild winds carried the fragrance of the woodland, reminiscent of Kurain, and the essence of her childhood days... 

The psychic was so busy gazing up at the trees at one point that she somehow missed a rock in her path and stumbled slightly, nearly falling face-first onto the ground. Fortunately, Luke quickly reached out and caught the red-cheeked lass in his arms just in time. He didn’t let go of her right away, either. 

Pearl caught her breath as she gazed up into the orbs that were once again, intently staring back into hers, feeling as though time had stood still right then. Luke’s eyes were the shade of acorns, just bright enough to shine in the shadows. Since first seeing him, she’d been keeping her gaze to the soil or else tilted upward to the sky, but now, with his hands steadily holding her waist, she was brave enough to meet them without aversion anymore, and a shiver of golden light raced down her spine. 

She’d never felt like this before. 

Constantine barked then, as though urging them to keep moving. The spell was broken, and both Pearl and Luke were blushing furiously as they finally parted and continued walking along. She didn’t mind too much though. With Luke Triton by her side, she felt like she was walking on a cloud.

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey and Luke Triton_** _  
London, England_  
May 4, 2025, 12:05 PM  


Luckily for Pearl, she had merely been subjected to the mildest of reprimands, as Maya had been too ecstatic being reunited with Luke and Constantine again to be too angry with her. Once the new friends had arrived at the cottage, just after 8:00, Longines had been there to join them for the delicious supper. The five of them had enjoyed a splendid evening, with the teens staying up late chatting until near dawn in front of the fireplace. 

The billionaire, of course, had tried to have the three of them sleep at a hotel, but Layton had insisted they stay with him. Ultimately, nobody wanted to separate the two lovebirds, even for a night – both adolescents were so obviously, adorably besotted that only a heartless monster would have tried to interfere with the blossoming romance, which was beyond heartwarming to spectate. 

It only scored the blond man a few extra brownie points in Pearl’s books when he’d at last relented and agreed to spend the night. Eventually, Longines and Maya had retired to the two small guest rooms just after midnight. The English lad had eventually passed out on the sofa, and the younger Fey had crawled into bed with Maya just as the sunrise came up, snatching just a couple hours sleep before the Professor and Luke would take the girls sightseeing during the day while Longines attended business matters. 

Maya and Layton had tactfully opted to take a separate capsule to allow the teens some privacy when the four of them went to ride London’s number one tourist attraction, The London Eye. Pearl’s doe orbs were the size of saucers as she peered up at the enormous Ferris wheel, which Luke boasted would give them a stupendous view of the South Bank of the River Thames, from a height of 135 meters! 

“That’s 443 feet tall, for you Americans,” he joked, oblivious to the color draining from Pearl’s face.

“Wow…that sure is _high_ , isn’t it?” She smiled weakly and tried not to let her anxiety be too apparent.

The spirit medium had never been on a ride such as this and was rather daunted at the prospect, although she certainly didn’t want her new friend thinking she was chicken! Luke was _soooo_ cute, and more importantly, the nicest boy she’d ever met. He was so excited about the prospect of playing tour guide and Pearl didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful, or anything but elated by the prospect of spending time with him. Therefore, she figured she’d be a big girl, and just suck it up! 

Once they were inside the capsule, Luke continued to fill her ears with trivia. 

“A ride on the London Eye takes 30 minutes, and it travels at a speed of about 0.6 miles per hour,” he told her. “And on a clear day like today, you can see as far as Windsor Castle!” 

Pearl forgot about all her fearful height reservations as the wheel began moving and she saw the captivating view. She eagerly pressed her nose and hands up against the glass wall to watch. From her great vantage point so high above the ground, she saw the community in a new light. The whole metropolis spread beneath her like a living map and she squeed with glee. 

The city of London was spread beneath them; a network of roads and rail sprawled below, mazes of cul-de-sacs. The houses and buildings resembled the tiny models on an architect’s street plan: expanses of green, neat rectangular parks, lakes shimmering like oval face mirrors, a river winding slowly like an ethereal gift from God Himself. As far as the eye could see were green clumps of woodland, with raggedy edges, arteriole roads like canals of tarmac, matchbox cars, spires of churches with weather vanes, a patchwork of surrounding villages, and great smokestacks spewing silver plumes. Pearl sighed, amazed at the sights laid out before her. 

Unknownst to her, a smiling Luke took this opportunity to bask in the pleasure of viewing his lovely companion. He was filled with unabashed admiration as he watched her visage light up with excitement as she soaked up the breathtaking bird’s eye view of the magnificent view below her. He had never, until then, experienced greater joy than witnessing that mesmerizing flicker of her beautiful eyes, which he hoped would never die.

Pearl didn’t pretend to be glamorous or some sort of sophisticated city slicker, like most of the girls Luke encountered. Despite being a completely natural beauty, she appeared blithely unaware of this fact, and still maintained a shy, modest vibe to her, which fewer and fewer young women lately possessed. She sparkled with _life_ ; always behind those slightly pursed lips of hers was a smile just waiting to be tempted out. It was one of the things he liked most about her. 

In fact, he liked _everything_ about her. 

Sometimes, as though sensing his staring, she’d glimpse his way and Luke had to generally pretend not to notice; too much interest and he feared she would have run. However, when he did return her glances, he didn't have to _try_ to smile, it just came naturally. In those moments, she would blush ever so slightly, and despite the many miles and continents that separated them, he’d allow his fanciful young mind to briefly imagine Pearl Fey someday being his girl. He certainly wasn’t in any rush, however; the small, remaining sane part of his mind forced him to acknowledge they had only _just_ met. 

Meanwhile, in his heart of hearts, he felt as though he'd known her forever. 

_Meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it was going to be my favorite._

The air was sweet, and there was no hurry, Luke assured himself. His world had been cast anew, and he was going to savor each and every moment.

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Pearl Fey_**  
 _Professor Layton’s House, England  
_ May 5, 2025, 8:00 PM  
  


“Whatdo youmeanI need to pack my bags and we’re leaving _tomorrow?”_ Pearl wailed plaintively, uncaring if the Professor and Luke, who were cleaning up the dinner dishes in the kitchen, heard her dramatic outburst, which made it seem like the sky had fallen on her. 

The Master let out a long-suffering sigh and looked helplessly at Longines, who stared back at her with an expression in his eyes that clearly stated: **_please_** _don’t drag me into this_! 

“Pearly,” Maya began with exaggerated patience. “I thought I explained to you that Longines kindly extended this invite for us to accompany him to _whatever_ countries _he_ needs to go tofor his business travels. This was supposed to be a _Eurotrip_ , not an _England_ trip! I understand you and Luke have… made friends and you don’t want to leave but there is still a _whole slew_ of other countries across the Continent for us to see! Don’t you want to make the most of this trip and explore _all_ of Europe? You don’t want to spend the _entire two weeks_ here just in the UK, do you?”

The balky moue the teen shot back at her guardian made it evident that Pearl would’ve been jolly well content doing _just_ that if it meant her new crush was by her side! 

Maya groaned inwardly.

 _Teenagers!_

She didn’t want to be the ogre to interfere with Pearl’s newfound romance – she was overcome with joy that her little girl was so happy; the girl deserved as such, after everything she’d been through. But on the other hand, she didn’t want to take advantage of Longines’ kindness and good nature. For a man who was used to five-star hotels and 1000 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, surely spending the last two nights on a lumpy mattress with an itchy wool blanket, in the Professor’s small guest room couldn’t have been too fun for him. Maya and Pearl were there on _his_ dime, ergo _he_ was the one technically in charge – something the _smitten kitten_ seemed to have conveniently overlooked! 

“Come on, Pearly! Tomorrow we’re going to _France_! It will be _so much fun_!” Maya coaxed. “We can stop in Paris, and see the Louvre, and then Longines has exclusive premiere tickets for us all to see a way cool, unreleased foreign flick at the Cannes Film Festival…” 

“I don’t _care!”_ Pearl retorted, folding her arms across her chest in a huff. “I want to stay here in London! There’s still so much here to see!” 

“Sweetie, we’ve already seen most of the sights! The Professor and Luke have taken us to Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, and we’ve been on the Millennium Wheel…” 

“But England has so much more to offer than _just_ that, Maya,” Luke interrupted suddenly, blushing to the roots of his hair at having been caught eavesdropping. “I so wanted to take Pearl on a trip to see Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and Oxford! Please, I humbly request that you allow her to stay. There are a lot more sights I want her to see… and I shall still ensure she gets the most out of Europe! We can _all_ go to France tomorrow – it’s a mere day trip for us, as it’s right next door, and you and Longines can enjoy Cannes, whilst I tour her around Paris. After that, however, I can _still_ take her around Europe! I can show her majestic castles, gardens, and sights in Scotland, as well as in Wales…” 

“Oh, that sounds _marvelous_!” Pearl’s eyes lit up. “ _See_ , Mystic Maya? I’m _still_ going to explore Europe! That’s _four_ countries right there! And admit it, you and Longines will have so much more fun without me tagging along, anyway!” 

“It’s not a problem if she wants to stay, Maya,” Layton reassured her. “Pearl is an utter delight to have around, and I must say, I’m biased, but I do love the idea of her further soaking more cultural knowledge of our Mother country. I’ll be busy this week doing some work for the Crown in the daytime, so it would be the perfect opportunity for Luke to show Pearl about. And there’s more than enough room for them to stay here at the house…” 

“I’d sleep in the other guest room of course,” Luke added quickly, his eyes pleading. “ _Please_ say yes.” 

Pearl was all but wringing her hands as her imploring gaze swung back and forth between Longines and Maya, flashing her best puppy-dog eyes, which she’d inherently gotten from her cousin, circa-legal assistant, “ _burgers and Steel Samurai movies”…_ courtesy of Phoenix _,_ days! 

Constantine whimpered then and affixed his button eyes on Maya as well, mimicking the teenagers’ pleading expressions, while _literally_ giving the Master _his_ puppy-dog eyes! 

The necromancer was wavering. There were few people in the world she’d trust her little girl with, save for Layton. Besides, she knew Luke would be nothing but a perfect gentleman. Moreover, it _was_ true…she and Longines _would_ have a better chance to explore and get to know one another if the need to play chaperone was taken off their plates! 

“Maya, it’s no imposition for me either,” the hair heir offered, flashing a discreet wink at the girl. “I need to come back through London again anyway, as our last stop, so it’s not a bother to come and fetch Pearl en route – and I couldn’t say no to the chance to enjoy another one of the Professor’s hearty, home-cooked English meals, to boot!” 

Maya barely stifled a pained moan.

_Ugh, traditional British fare is the **one** thing I won’t miss in the least! _

As hard as it was to believe, her second visit to the UK had made her realize there were certain foods even her gluttonous self had zero desire to encounter _,_ ever again! Her stomach still lurched as she recalled the nightmare of crispy pig’s head, steak and kidney pie, and blood pudding! She’d rather revert to the detestable vegetarian lifestyle favored of Kurain than ever again encounter on her dinner plate anything with a face, or food that entailed animal organs or blood of any sort! 

Pearl shot a tentative, grateful, and sincere smile – her first one ever – in Longines’ direction before turning it towards her kinswoman, changing it to a hopeful one yet again. 

The raven-haired beauty sighed. There was no way she could resist the adorable Constantine's begging puppy-dog face. Not when it was coupled with two sets of pleading puppy-dog

eyes from a couple of crazy kids who were utterly, hopelessly, in the fledgling stages of puppy love! 

_Jeez, now I can see why Nick was such a pushover and could never deny us anything whenever Pearly and I tag-teamed him! And that was **without** Constantine in the mix! I stand less a chance than that poor sucker ever did!_

Resistance was futile. The tables were turned, and now it was _Maya’s_ turn to be the world-class marshmallow.

“ _Wellll_ … as long as it’s OK with Longines and the Professor and you swear me you’ll be on your _best, ladylike_ behavior, Pearly … I can’t think of any reason to say no,” Maya conceded, flashing a wry smile as the two teenagers let out a triumphant whoop and exchanged high-fives. “Which also means I’m holding _you_ to that _gentleman’s clause_ as well, Mr. Triton!” 

“I’d expect no less, my good lady!” Luke beamed, removing his cap and bowing slightly. “Tomorrow, the Professor is back to work but for the four of us… France, here we come!”

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse  
_** _Cannes Film Festival, France  
_ May 6, 2025

Maya and Longines were both dressed to the nines for that night’s movie premiere of _Boules de Fromage,_ as it appeared that everyone seemed to look like a Hollywood star at these events –unless her eyes were deceiving her, she could have _sworn_ she saw Johnny Depp and Roman Polansky exiting from their limos! 

Her excitement from the celebrity sighting helped vanquish the churning in her stomach and aftertaste in her mouth – despite swishing it with copious amounts of champagne – from that night’s dinner. To think, she’d been internally grumbling about _British fare!_ Give her bloody sausages _any day_ compared to what she’d been subjected to in the name of gourmet fare at the snooty restaurant Longines had taken her to before arriving at the festival. 

Her companion had needed to order for them both, as he was fluent in French and Maya didn’t know a lick of it. She’d _tried_ – but had only succeeded in uttering: _“votre mère est une vache.”_

It’d been an honest mistake.

Maya knew _vache_ meant cow. However, her lame attempt to order some sort of dead bovine on a plate had only resulted in telling their scandalized server that _“your mother is a cow,”_ Longines thence laughing until his eyes had watered _and_ getting stink-eye from the affronted Frenchman for the rest of the night! 

Dinner had consisted of an appetizer called _Farandole d’escargots et quenelles de volaille à la moutarde de Charroux_ , which Pierre the waiter had insisted was _“juste par gourmandize!”_ This was to be followed by the main course, _cuisses de grenouille, sautéed cerveaux._

The slighted maître d'hôtel had clearly intended to punish the Yankee Philistine in their midst for the unintended slur about his mother, since the meal had turned out to be _Farandole snails and chicken dumplings with mustard of Charroux… with frog legs and fried cow brains!_

To beg for a good old-fashioned burger would have been gauche – not to mention it would have made the psychic seem even _more_ like an ungrateful _and_ rude, “imbecile American! Therefore, she’d had no choice but to daintily peck and swallow her food with the minimal chewing possible, and then move it around her plate to give the illusion of eating it. Somehow, she’d been lucky enough to discreetly manage to spit out the _slimy_ brains into her napkin when Longines’ head was turned, (what was _with_ Europeans eating various animal organs!) claiming all this overseas travel and time difference had made her eat like a bird. 

Maya thought her acting skills that night were worthy of any they would be seeing on the silver screen – it had taken every ounce of her willpower not to gag or vomit – she didn’t want to risk mussing her artfully applied makeup! Instead, she’d guzzled the bubbly, pigged out on the breadbasket and cheese (gross and peculiar food aside, France _did_ boast the best cheese and champagne she’d ever had in her life!), and dove headfirst into dessert, a perfectly heavenly lemon soufflé, sweetened with homemade lemon pastry cream. 

Longines, looking like Tinsel Town perfection himself in a black tuxedo, with his hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail for the evening, had insisted on splurging for his date’s outfit for the event.

The Master was donned in sparkling gemstones at her ears and throat and wore elbow-length satin gloves with her long, strapless, black velvet Christian Dior gown. The scarlet of her evening bag, rhinestone Louboutin stilettos, and lipstick were all perfectly matched. Red lipstick was _the_ signature glam look of French women, her makeup artist at the salon where Longines and she had gotten their hair done, had informed her. Maya’s long onyx hair had been artfully braided into a French plaited updo, and together, they made quite the striking pair of head turners – some photographers on the red carpet had taken their photographs, and even mistaken them for celebrities! 

The psychic, who was quite drunk on champagne at this point, was therefore quite merry indeed as she smiled and waved at the flashing cameras pointed at them, just like a Hollywood Starlet. She even allowed Longines to laughingly pose the two of them into a melodramatic embrace, dipping her down over his arm and lowering his head, as though leaning in for a kiss, pausing just inches from her lips, just as the flashes went off, then raised her back up again, smiling mischievously. 

“Hell, let’s give them something to talk about!” He quipped. “Tomorrow, when they go over their pictures and see ours, they’ll realize that the _best-tressed_ folks here at the festival are just a boring hair tycoon and necromancer and dispose of them, surely!” 

“There goes my dream of having my photo in the international news!” Maya giggled as she allowed him to escort her to their seats. 

The name of the film was odd but she knew the French could be delightfully eccentric and lax with sexuality censoring – hello, this was a country where the restricted erotic film, _50 Shades of Grey_ was only rated for ages _12_ and up! Longines had laughingly assured her this was a “tasteful, artsy film” and no, it was not named because of some sort of pornographic content that would involve any kind of dairy products coming into contact with spherical objects of the male nether regions! 

Somewhat disappointed by this information, Maya nevertheless vowed to watch the flick with an open mind. However, as the movie went on, the tipsy Master began to conclude that the film, which in English, translated to _Cheesy Balls_ was quite _aptly_ named! 

Until then, she’d reckoned that she’d done enough hard time enduring _The English Patient_ , a film so monotonous that she’d secretly been screaming at the main character to just die already! OK, maybe it hadn’t been completely inward … she may have screamed it at the screen about two hours in! Phoenix had been pretty pissed at her for that, berating his then-assistant for her inability to appreciate Oscar-winning films, instead of just movies with things that blew up all the time! In response, Maya had told her boss that he was fired from choosing movie rentals for the next millennium! 

Score one for England …not only for more tolerable cuisine … but movies, where they often merely bored her to death but didn’t leave her aggravated and bewildered! 

_Cheesy_ wasn’t the word for it! Like a rotten, moldy cheese left festering for too long … it flat out… _stunk!_   
  
Just call in Pepe the skunk already… this is pure **eu de pew!**

The characters spoke so quickly she could only understand the simplest words and expressions, such as _oui_ and _pardon, Madame_. The subtitles didn't help either, because the plot of the movie was so strange. As far as Maya could tell, all the characters believed they were in purgatory, although to her it looked just like the inside of a doctor's waiting room. Occasionally, a nurse would call someone's name, and that person would look shocked and begin talking morosely about his childhood. Then the scene would switch to someone's apartment, and the characters would begin to talk about opera and the family's cheese-making factory (well that explained the _fromage_ component of the movie name!) It didn't make any sense at all! 

To make matters worse, every once in a while, a little red ball would roll across whatever room the characters were in (and _there_ was the _balls_ title explanation!) No one in the film seemed to notice it. It just made the whole thing seem even weirder. Maya didn’t get the symbolism of the damn ball any more than she’d understood the damn floating plastic bag in the film _American Beauty_ _!_

In conclusion, she decided the French, the creators of creepy-ass mimes, when it came to the arts, were simply shit-whistlingly insane _,_ not only for their dubious choices in haute cuisinebut also for their idea of what an _avant-garde_ film was!

Luckily, they were only in France for that night and would be off to the next country – and adventure – tomorrow. Maya could hardly wait. 

_Oh Pearly, I hope you and Luke are having a better time in Paris than I am in Cannes…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvis Presley – Can't Help Falling In Love


	97. Special Someones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get lost in your eyes  
> And I feel my spirits rise  
> And soar like the wind...  
> Is it love that I am in?
> 
> I get weak in a glance  
> Isn't this what's called romance?  
> And now I know  
> 'Cause when I'm lost I can let go
> 
> I don't mind not knowing what I'm heading for  
> You can take me to the skies...  
> It's like being lost in heaven  
> When I'm lost in your eyes
> 
> I just fell, don't know why  
> Something's there we can't deny...  
> And when I first knew  
> Was when I first looked at you
> 
> And if I can't find my way  
> If salvation is worlds away  
> Oh, I'll be found  
> When I am lost in your eyes
> 
> I don't mind not knowing what I'm heading for  
> You can take me to the skies...  
> Oh it's like being lost in heaven  
> When I'm lost in your eyes
> 
> I get weak in a glance  
> Isn't this what's called romance?  
> Oh, I'll be found  
> When I am lost in your eyes

**_Pearl Fey and Luke Triton  
_ ** _The Eiffel Tower, Paris, France_

_Mystic Maya, thank you so much for letting me come to Paris with Luke!_ Pearl thought blissfully, beaming at her _très beau_ tour guide as they neared the Eiffel Tower. _I hope the rest of your visit in France and Europe is just as wonderful as mine has been!_

It had been a storybook, picture-perfect day in Paris. It had begun with the exploration of the world-famous Musee du Louvre, where Pearl had seen gorgeous artworks and priceless historical pieces that had been beyond fascinating to behold. 

However, the biggest thrill of all, of course, had been seeing the acclaimed Mona Lisa. 

“To truly appreciate this particular work, I’ve often tried to imagine what was going through her mind, as though she were a real person,” Luke’s expression was thoughtful. “I envision her hanging on chipped white paint, within a painting, as she waited for someone to stop and look and admire her. She watched other paintings be admired, and people praising extravagant brush strokes and bright bold colors, as she just hung there, unnoticed, unloved. She knew that she was as just as good as them, maybe even better. Her day would come, and they would all regret not stopping to see her beauty. She later became the most famous painting in the world. Her name was Mona. Mona Lisa.” 

Pearl couldn't help but be endeared that Luke was sensitive enough to empathize not just with the thoughts and feelings of animals, but inanimate objects. It was another quirk of his that made him so wonderfully, uniquely… _him_.

Next, they had visited the 800-year-old Gothic constructed wonder, complete with flying buttresses, the Notre Dame Cathedral, where the teens had both marveled that the historical 17th-century organ with all of its parts was _still_ functional! 

On the outside of the church, high above their heads, were the gargoyles, embodiments of evil in people’s minds over the centuries. On their lofty perches, the stone caricatures were exposed to the worst of the France weather and showed signs of the relentless seasonal freeze-thaw. 

“It’s hard now, not to find them amusing,” Luke remarked with a smirk. “But long ago, when demons were feared and the spiritual world was tangible to the masses, I can quite imagine how they inspired the flock to speed up their walk into the sanctuary of the church.” 

In the fading watery light of the spring day, the gargoyles clung to the shadows. Crouched high on the church, intricately carved of semi crumbling stone, they were crafted to be grotesque. Eyes bulged, over-sized ears were unnaturally pointed, and the grins evoked notions of sadistic pleasure. Hunched, disfigured, and leering downward toward the parishioners they were as cold as the demon's hearts they represented. 

Pearl stared up at the stone creatures in the half-light of the evening. They were built into the ends of the gutters to drain rainwater off the roof; since the gargoyles extended far off the side of the roof, the liters of rainwater from storms fell far from the walls to prevent damage. 

_Personally, they simply remind me to guard against the blacker parts of my nature; that we all have a little demon inside and it's up to us to keep it as impudent as those gargoyles._

“True, some of them may be frightening,” she said softly. “But they remind us that all creatures are the work of God, so they deserve His love and salvation.” 

Luke regarded with unsuppressed approbation. Pearl had such a rare perception and depth that belied her years, coupled with an innocent, ingenuous view of everything that was beyond refreshing. If you showed her a gold coin or a kitten and asked her to pick one, he knew she’d take the silly cat every time. He wanted to try to see the world through her eyes; there was simple wisdom there and he loved it. With Pearl, happiness was simple, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

It was already dark by the time the teens headed to the tower – Luke had already called the Professor and told him they’d be home before midnight but not to worry about making dinner for them. 

As the city came out of the darkness of night, the duo crossed the Seine in silence. Without the traffic, they walked right down the centre of the street and not far away lay The Eiffel Tower, like a skeleton of metal projecting up into a sky that was rapidly becoming midnight blue. 

Standing at the base and looking up, Luke couldn’t help but marvel that he’d never before truly appreciated its size. Pearl just gaped in awe of the enthralling sight of the resplendent structure, all 20,000 sparkling bulbs on the 324-meter high building completely lit up, right before her very eyes. The legs were as far apart as your average town plaza, the metal dull, and when they reached out, it was cold to the touch. As the elevator finally let them out at the top, a far smaller space than below, the two rushed to the edge, and there it lay … Paris. It was spread out like a luminous colored board, a map of classic architecture. 

The cityscape, spread below, was unapologetically urban and the world suddenly felt so wide and free that she wanted to jump. There were few trees or city planted blooms visible from this height in the dark, just monoliths of concrete soaring out of the sidewalk in an exact grid pattern. At night, it was beautiful in its own way. The City of Lights.

Pearl peered downward and what she saw took her breath away. The ground below her was alive with lights; as if someone had taken a handful of glitter and thrown it as far as the eye could see. It was too dark to make out individual buildings but the lights were enough for her. She sighed, amazed at the view laid out before her. Lights glittered everywhere, just like stars dropping to the earth, huge and small buildings collided in a mixture of shadow and geometry, tiny vehicles rushing along tangled lines of streets creating twisting threads of light - they all intertwined together in a magnificent mess of dream. 

A breathtaking, marvelous, dream that made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be there at that moment. 

As though reading her mind, Luke flashed her a knowing smile. 

“The Tower also represents the magic of light. Its lighting, its sparkling lights, and its beacon shine and inspire dreams every evening.”

Pearl turned around to face him, her heartbeat quickening as she realized how closely behind her he was standing. A slight shiver ran through her and she knew it had nothing to so the sudden gust of cool breeze that came over the high level of the tower. She was far from cold. As she and Luke stared into one another’s eyes, she’d realized she’d never felt warmer, or happier, in her whole existence.

“Luke, there is no dream I could have in my whole life,” she whispered, her eyes transfixed on his, “that could _ever_ rival the reality of this moment here with you. I feel like every dream I’ve ever had in my entire life has come true.” 

His heart pounded in his chest like a jungle drum.

 _You keep saying things like that, Pearl Fey, and I may never, ever let you get back on that plane back to LA. It would take a strong man to ever let you go, and I don’t know if I am a man of such strength._

Rather than reply, Luke’s eyes burned with intensity as he leaned forward then, and her pulse raced. A small caramel lock of hair tumbled in front of her face, resting just in front of her cheek but with one swift slide of his thumb, it was brushed out of the way. Gazing into his eyes, she found herself lost in the deep pools of toffee that displayed his soul. 

The next thing she knew, his gentle lips touched her cheek. 

To most, a kiss on the cheek would be a sign of friendship or a polite way to greet a stranger of the opposite sex. However, she knew that a simple peck could convey as much meaning as a full-on kiss. Simple though it may be, a kiss on the cheek was special in its own, unique way. This one had been no exception. 

Time stopped. Her heart came to a halt. Her breath caught in her throat. Their fingers locked together, similar to puzzle pieces. As the soft skin of his mouth left the side of her visage, the exact spot where they had come into contact burned and tingled. A hot blazing fire pulsed through her. A small grin crept onto her face and her cheeks painted themselves rosy-red. He pulled away silently, but their eyes remained locked, having a private conversation entirely of their own. 

The two of them were now both irrefutably, unequivocally, and undeniably twitterpated.

* * *

**_Pearl Fey and Luke Triton  
_ ** _Edinburgh, Scotland_

There was so much in the American girl’s quietness at times, so much she just wouldn’t say. Luke could tell by her expression at times that a lot was going on in her head. Sometimes, when she didn’t think he was watching, he noticed, out of the blue, how her sweet cadence would trail off in mid-sentence and her eyes would look sad. It distressed him greatly. He wanted her to trust him, to confide in him. He yearned to know about the cause of the pain he sensed within her, and what had ever caused her tears. Then he wanted to comfort her and ensure that Pearl Fey never had another reason to ever cry again in her whole life.

Nonetheless, as much as he longed to know what secrets lay behind those captivating orbs, he knew better than to pry. 

The tour of Scotland had been unbelievable for them both thus far.

First, he’d taken Pearl to the picturesque Princess Street Gardens. The garden stretched up into town, winding like a river through the bright surroundings and houses. Clusters of daffodils waved their golden heads amidst the bursts of rainbow-colored blooms, along with smatters of fuchsia and alongside the scarlet and saffron hued primroses.

The lad made sure he took numerous pictures of his crush’s beaming face alongside all the purple shades of flowers, as that was her favorite color. At moments like this, when her radiant visage rivaled the rays of the overhead sun, he’d wonder if he was imagining those tranquil, reflective moments of hers as being unhappy ones. But whenever he asked her, Pearl just responded with something cheeky, like she was thinking of how cute he was when he smiled! 

Luke had to give the girl credit, he was a complete sucker for her one-liners. But most especially, for her smile. She’d flash that beatific beam of hers and it got him tied up tighter than a banker's money, but unlike a vault, it wasn’t claustrophobic at all. He instinctively sensed his heart was safe with her, even if she did keep secrets. He knew that even though he was falling for her like a ton of bricks – forget butterflies, he felt the whole sodding zoo when he was with her! – it still didn’t give him the right to know every pain and doubt, to rummage through the confines of her head. Some scars were invisible; he knew _he_ carried _his_ share!

Still, the lack of answers gnawed away at him, and at times, he too lapsed into frustrated silence. 

Sighing with resignation, he slipped his hand into hers as they winded through the colorful botanical, just two enamored teens, happy, connected. 

Next, Luke had taken Pearl to King Arthur’s Seat, which was often mentioned as one of the possible locations for Camelot, the legendary castle and court of the legendary Romano-British warrior-chief, King Arthur. It was a huge crag, which rose to a height of 822 feet above sea-level above the city of Edinburgh, and was said that the association of the hill with the Legendary Arthur. Part of Holyrood Park, it offered a tremendous view of the surrounding countryside and the sea to the east. The 'seat' itself was said to be the notch between the highest point of the peak and a secondary point a little way to the south affording them an incredible view. 

_Up here, it's like looking down at the world._ Pearl was mesmerized by all the surrounding lush greenery from her view atop the dormant volcano. _You can see the trees, the flowers, the sea, and the many busy people going on about the day. Up here, it's like standing on a giant’s back exploring the world with awe._

“Happy?” Luke queried, taking a seat next to her at the top of the hill and slinging an arm around her slender shoulders. 

“Very.” Pearl leaned slightly into him then and dropped her head against his shoulder with a sigh. “This has all been … magical, Luke. I still feel like I’m in some amazing dream that I don’t want to wake up from.” 

Luke swallowed, knowing he was at risk of being told off for once again subjecting her to an invasive line of questioning, but he fervently hoped that as their fledgling relationship had progressed to hand-holding and cuddles this past week, it was a sign she had come to like and trust him more.

“Yet sometimes, I sense you _aren’t_ entirely content. And it makes me feel so sad, the idea of you being unhappy. I want to know if there’s anything I can do to make it better.” 

Pearl drew away slightly then and pulled her knees to her chin, morosely studying the view below.

“Not unless you can turn back time,” she answered dully. “Not unless you can unbreak a heart.” 

Luke was stunned at her unexpected candor … then felt a ridiculous twinge of irrational jealousy of some other unworthy bugger having possessed her heart before _he_ had. 

“Before you came here, did some bloody sod break your heart, love?” He inquired gently, his hand reflexively curling into a fist at the thought of anyone hurting this gem of a girl. “Was this something that happened recently?”

The spirit medium turned to look at him and her eyes softened slightly as she dropped her head back against his shoulder again. One of the greatest things about Luke was Pearl felt she could talk to him about anything. She knew he’d been holding back and trying to respect her boundaries until she felt comfortable sharing that personal part of her life and she adored him for it.

She was ready now. 

“Not _my_ heart in the traditional sense,” she replied hollowly. “But they _did_ break my cousin’s … and therefore, _mine_ indirectly, as well.” 

Then, in a rush, she told Luke everything about the Phoenix and Maya breakup. However, she was careful to keep any criticism of Longines and the additional fear of the coxcomb marrying her still heartbroken guardian to herself. It wasn’t as though Pearl didn’t like _him_ , per se; it was just that she knew he wasn’t _The One_ her kinswoman was meant to be with and she worried her cousin was too raw from her afflicted wounds to realize that! 

“Mr. Nick and Mystic Maya, they were _meant_ for one another,” Pearl divulged sadly. “It was like … a beautiful fairytale! She was his real-life Pink Princess and he was her knight in shining armor! I guess this whole King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table thing just made me reminisce about them. And then this whole trip with you and me ... I am so afraid things are going to end with us just as badly – that I’ll wind up having my heart broken too.” 

“Pearl.” Luke’s voice was quiet. “Look at me.” 

She lifted her head to gaze into his face and saw his burnt-sienna eyes were shining with understanding and sympathy. 

“I want to thank you for trusting me enough to finally confide in me and I vow to _never_ betray that trust.” His expression was one of sincerity and promise. “But while I _can_ swear to you that I will never break your heart, what I _can’t_ do, as much as I _wish_ I could, is bring Mr. Wright back to you and Maya.”

Luke stood up then and gently tugged her by the hand, a slight smile playing across his lips.

“However, since I know you like knights and fairytales so much, how would you like it if I made you star in your very own, by taking you, my fair lady … to a beautiful fairytale castle?”

* * *

**_Pearl Fey and Luke Triton  
_ ** _Glenapp Castle, Ballantrae, Scotland_

Glenapp Castle could only be described as a fairytale castle that’d come to life. It was hidden on the beautiful Ayrshire coast, a magnificently restored Scottish Baronial Castle and Michelin-starred venue. Nestled in 36 acres of glorious gardens on the rugged Ayrshire coast in Ballantrae, and boasted spectacular views.

The castle afforded a breathtaking view across the Irish Sea, to the island of Arran, and the massive granite rock of Ailsa Craig. There was not one seaport in the whole area and those parts of the coasts into which the rivers issued were so full of pointed rocks, and the sea generally so rough, that there was no venturing with the smallest of boats; so the entire time you were at remote Glenapp, you felt as if the rest of the world faded away, leaving just you and your partner behind. 

The windows were oversized, mullioned, and almost cathedral-like. Inside every room was bathed in daylight from the first kiss of dawn to the twilight hours. By night the oak floors and antique furniture would be bathed in the flicker of yellow candlelight from the many candelabras that still hung there. All the castle hallways were carpeted with an indigo material bearing elaborate golden designs and draped with rich tapestries of emerald green and gold hanging on the walls, making the whole place look regal. 

It was the perfect setting for them to enjoy an afternoon tea for two, including assorted finger sandwiches, scones with Devonshire cream and preserves, and a selection of freshly baked cakes, all served with a selection of fine teas and coffee, after which they took the time to give themselves a self-guided tour of the place. 

The stairs were twisted in a perfect spiral like a child's Slinky toy pulled from each end. Each stair was smoothed cut stone. Pearl let her hand fall on to the black iron railing, rough in its rustic charm, and placed her weight on the first step. There was no sign of rot, they were as solid as the day they were made. She walked swiftly to the top, leaving her shoe prints behind, towards the top floor. Instead of the peaks in the roof, the castle had domed towers instead, with an open porch at the front held up with most ostentatiously detailed pillars, painted in brilliant white. Inside there were no doors on the ground floor, only arches, and the windows up there, located in the tower, were like great slits in the thick walls. 

The paths wandered around the azalea pond, and through established woodland, leading to another wonderful walled garden with its 150-foot Victorian glasshouse and then past that they could see the 36-acres of gardens, with many rare, unusual plants and shrubs, including magnificent specimen rhododendrons. 

“It's like a magical kingdom in a storybook come to life,” Pearl breathed, her eyes glowing as she led Luke by the hand through the archway and onto the platform balcony, which afforded them a grand view of the courtyard, and the grounds below. “I really _do_ feel like a princess in a fairytale!” 

“You _are_ a princess, destined to become a queen. Your wondrous story has already begun.” Luke took her hand and bowed over it with a teasing grin. “Your once upon a time is _now_ and I am but a mere peasant boy basking in thy regal grace, Princess Pearl.” 

“Luke Triton, my dream wouldn’t be complete without _you_.” Pearl clasped her hand to her chest as she smiled adoringly at him, her heart in her eyes. “You are more than a dream come true. You made my world brighter and more beautiful. I vow to be your princess only if _you'll_ be my prince, for you are already the ruler of my…”

Her breath caught then and she found herself unable to finish the sentence but he knew what she had come close to saying. 

They _both_ knew. 

Just as they both knew this was sheer lunacy, given how short a time they’d known one another. Nevertheless, what was even _more_ madness was that they were also both aware, despite everything, that whatever _this_ was, that it was real. 

Luke stepped closer to her then, still holding her hand, and pressed it against his chest so she could feel the quickened beat of his heart, which matched her own wildly thudding one. 

“I am no prince if not yours,” he murmured, gazing tenderly into her wide eyes. " _You_ make me believe in fairytales.” 

Then, with his free hand, his fingers were tracing her forehead, ever so gently – his touch, too, was a whisper, the lightest breath, and she was paralyzed, frozen. Over the bridge of her nose and her Cupid’s bow – the slightest bit of pressure there, so she tasted the saltiness of his skin and felt the ridges and swirls of his thumb on her lower lip. They then trailed over her chin and around her jaw, then up to her hair, leaving Pearl full of a roaring hot whiteness which rooted her in place on that stone floor, suddenly swamped with a feeling that she would rather die than let go of, and rather wither away than ever lose.

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey and Luke Triton  
_** _New Quay, Cardigan Bay, Wales_ _  
_

“You will love the boat tour in Cardigan Bay,” Luke told Pearl excitedly as the two hurriedly climbed aboard with the rest of the tourists. “It has plenty of food for the dolphins; their habitat hasn’t been destroyed by industrial development or big towns; the water is clean and they are largely left alone. Being at sea will allow you the closest encounter with these fascinating creatures, Pearl!” 

“I can’t wait!” Her eyes shone. “Plus, the guide book says we may also see harbor porpoise and Atlantic grey seals and basking sharks and sunfish, but I’m most excited about the dolphins. I’ve never seen one before, except online and on TV.” 

“Surely thou jest!” His jaw dropped. “Never, _ever?_ Not even in an aquarium?” 

She shook her head. 

“Well, I’ll be happy to change that!” Luke stated, straightening the brim of his cap. “There’s such a big beautiful world out there that you need to see, Pearl Fey and I’m enchanted to be the one privy to show it to you!” 

Pearl just smiled in response, enjoying the view of the surprisingly calm seawater, a slice of mellow harmony amid the chaos of land. It flowed like time, always onward, always toward its destiny. Now she was about to venture onto that great ocean, and experience the thrill of the marine life that was part of the mighty aquatic world, and thanked the whatever forces were listening that she would get to experience it with this incredible young man beside her. 

Under the gentle sun of early May, the sea was an unbroken calm, speckled by a million fragments of light – each one minuscule but together so intense in an utterly beauteous way. Pearl leaned over the side of the boat, dangling her hand over the edge near the surface of the water. She dipped her long, graceful fingers in, reveling in its soothing coolness. 

Suddenly, the tourists on the boat began squealing with ebullience and frantically snapping pictures as a magnificent dolphin leaped high into the sultry air of mid-Spring. From his shiny grey topside and whiter underbelly, flew water droplets, cascading down, bejeweled in the light. His body arched, tail flipped, and then back down he went with a splash. 

Pearl laughed happily and clapped her hands. Luke came over to lean off the side of the boat next to her. 

“He’s _magnificent!”_ She breathed, her eyes shining. “Look, he’s brought some friends with him!”

She pointed and saw that indeed, a school of several more of the finned mammals had come up to the boat, and were now showing off similarly, gracefully leaping above the surface of the water and diving back in. 

“ _Her_ name is Brenda,” he whispered in her ear. “I was talking to her earlier before she went to fetch some of her friends to make this outing be one of greater viewing pleasure for you. She not only delivered, but she also wants to visit you. Would you like to pet her?” 

“I can _touch_ her?” Pearl gasped, clapping an astonished hand to her mouth. “I’d _love_ to! B – but how? They’re all swimming a distance away from the boat, close enough to take pictures but not close enough to touch…” 

“They don’t let just _anyone_ pet them.” Luke winked. “Just … _special someones_. Put your hand back down in the water, Pearl.” 

She quickly obliged. The tour guide and tourists were too busy snapping photos of the leaping school of Brenda’s friends to notice the teenagers and their clandestine antics. The spirit medium splashed her hand idly about, as she’d been doing earlier, then squealed with elated surprise. Where moments ago there had just been briny water was now a shiny grey head observing her with intelligent eyes. As Luke once again began to talk to the dolphin, Pearl gently patted the smooth, slippery head with trembling fingers. 

“Tell her she’s _beautiful_ ,” she told Luke with a megawatt smile. “And that this has been the most thrilling moment of my life!” 

Grinning, Luke repeated the statement and the majestic mammal nodded her head as if she understood every word, her open-mouthed toothy grin looking so much like she was returning the psychic's smile that Pearl burst into delighted laughter.

He stood up then, camera poised, and told the enchanted teen that Brenda liked her very much and would allow the tourist girl to kiss her if she wanted to. 

Pearl didn’t need to be asked twice. She joyfully leaned down and lightly brushed her lips against the side of Brenda’s hard, wet snout, eyes blissfully closed, not even taking note of Luke capturing the moment, to be forever immortalized on film. She was so elated she thought her heart would surely burst. 

_Trust Luke Triton to make such a phenomenal outing even more wonderful and magical._

Though the day was hot, Pearl felt more warmed by this mammal of the sea than the brilliant rays above. It a moment of utter perfection – sweet, gentle perfection...

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey and Luke Triton_**  
 _Snowdonia, Maentwrog, Wales_

“Snowdonia is full of waterfalls - _Rheadar_ in Welsh - and rivers, and it’s such a unique part of the area that if you come to visit, you really should jump into at least one waterfall pool. It’s exciting, it’s fun, it’s an adventure, it’s a challenge and…. it’s _free_!” Luke was even more cheery than usual that day. 

“I guess it’s usually a cold affair jumping into the pools.” Pearl bit her thumb uncertainly. “But I am supposing … that’s half the fun?” 

“You bet!” He grinned as they trekked on through the woods. “The serotonin high you get for having done it always outweighs everything and that’s just the adults – show me a child who doesn’t enjoy jumping off rocks into water! Heavens, I _still_ do! Makes me a big kid at heart!” 

Pearl couldn’t help but giggle at his childlike enthusiasm. 

“I can’t wait till you see it! This place where we are headed has three pools, deep, shallow, and medium, as well as a waterfall.” Luke explained. “But the water is very clear and none of the pools are very deep. There are many waterfalls in Wales but you want one where the plunge pool is not overhung with trees, or it will be even colder.” 

They strolled past the shaded boughs towards the stone beach, which was hidden in the woods and opened out to a large pool with a huge waterfall that Luke insisted they could stand underneath. The teens felt the welcome kiss of coolness, watching the currents that swirled and disappeared. The water surface was livened by brief crescents of white and fish arcing as they swam by. Their eyes traveled downstream, caressing the dapples that brought the shine of the water to a cozy hue. As they walked on, the music of the woods became ever quieter, until they could hear it no more. 

Pearl stifled a nervous titter. This wood was so far from the home of Layton’s and even further from her own back in Kurain … but right now it didn’t matter one bit. This moment was her own. Hers and Luke’s. And right now, in this flash of the time continuum, she was _at home_. 

At last, they arrived at the waterfall. What a glorious sight it was. The chutes tumbled down the hillside in a series of mini-waterfalls. The cascades tinkled in a laughing sort of way and Pearl imagined that this was the sort of places faeries might live. 

“Since you sit under freezing waterfalls for hours on end for training, the wild swimming here in the cold waters of _Maentwrog at Rheaedar Ddu_ should be a walk in the park for you, won’t it?” Luke asked. 

Despite her earlier feelings of embracing this as her moment, still, the spirit medium hesitated for a moment. 

“Maybe…” Pearl bit her thumb again. “But we sit under the waterfall to the point where we become numb and just remain unmoving there…it’s another thing to be frozen numb and then keep being expected to _move!”_

“You sounded a trifle nervous there,” he noted. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll go first and _literally_ test the waters then! Just let me get my water shoes on …do you have yours?”

She nodded.

“Here I go!”

He yanked off his sweater and shorts, revealing his wetsuit underneath. Since her back had been turned away as she slipped out of the T-shirt and capri pants she’d been wearing over her own wetsuit, Pearl wasn’t prepared for what she’d see when she turned back to Luke and blushed to the roots of her hair at the sight of him. 

The wetsuit clung to him like a second skin, emphasizing every shape of his lean body. Luke had all the height of a man, but none of the bulk. There were visible muscles under his suit but not the bulky kind men got from years of weight lifting. From behind, he could’ve been anywhere in his late teens to early 20’s but when he turned to face her, that face was all gamin boyishness. He was lit up with that grin boys wore when they have something mischievous planned, and his sandy hair flopped over his eyes as he held out his hand for her to take. 

She complied but instead of pulling her into the water as she’d expected, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss upon it, then gave a huge whoop as he let go and plunged right in. 

_“Geronimo!”_

From a distance, the waterfall had been like a silent white stream cascading over the rocky outcrops. A force of nature, both beautiful and brutal. Tranquil from a distance but deafening up close. It was as if the cascades of water conjured cascades of equally powerful emotions in his brain and it quite took his breath away. It was simply spectacular, the most magnificent sight he had ever beheld. 

“Gack!” He yelled, laughing as he surfaced a moment later. “It’s cold at first but it’s great once you get used to the shock! Come on in, Princess Pearl – The water’s _splendid!”_

Pearl was unable to answer. Her face was still flushed warm and the hairs on her neck were still standing from the contact of his lips against her skin. Something fluttered in her stomach, but she didn't know what that feeling was. She thought it was a bizarre sensation, but it wasn't unpleasant. At that moment she knew that if she spoke, her speech would fumble and she wouldn't be able to make her usual witty remarks. Right there and then, she was at a loss for everything; no words, no breath, no thoughts. 

_He was 18 if a day and he’s already stolen my heart, without even knowing it was in his pocket._

With this thought in mind, she cautiously entered the water, gasping at the initial cold sensation, but then just decided to go for it and dunked right in. 

Laughing happily, Luke swam out towards the waterfall then, and Pearl followed suit. 

As they had drawn closer, the noise had increased steadily until they were only a few hundred meters away. They could no longer even shout to one another over the deafening roar of the water. Closer still they drew until they were in the plume of water vapour that hung over the plunge pool and in only minutes they were as wet as they would have been in any rainstorm. Their hair clung to their heads and around their faces, but no matter how wet they became, it could not dampen their spirits. They stood in awe. 

“It’s n-not _that_ cold,” Pearl asserted, although her teeth were beginning to chatter even as the waterfall continued to pour down over them. “J-just takes getting some used to is all.” 

“You are a terrible liar!” Luke chuckled, but then his eyes darkened with concern. “Are you really that cold, love? We can get out if you want?” 

She shook her head stubbornly.

“No, I’ve stood under falls way colder than this! J – just…give me a moment…” 

He walked up to Pearl slowly and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her so that most of the waterfall washed over him and only splashed down on her now. His embrace was warm, and she stopped shivering immediately. His big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around her frail form. The world around her melted away as she squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end. 

Luke stroked her long hair and pulled her into his chest. The warmth of being with another human being and being this happy made him want to shout out to the rooftops. The hug was an exchange of pure joy between them. His mind swam with the heady excitement of emotions churning within. The embrace was a simple enough gesture - affection, perhaps the fragile beginnings of first love. The arms that hugged him back were soft, yet strong.

The feel of his body so close to hers soothed her more than she had expected. 

“Feeling warmer now?” He asked softly, staring down into her wide grey eyes. 

She nodded silently, gazing at him so intently that Luke felt his cheeks reddening slightly. 

“Um, what is it?” He sounded awkward, obviously not used to girls regarding him for extended periods, which was surprising to Pearl, since he was easily the best-looking boy she’d ever seen. 

“Your eyes,” she breathed, still staring at him as though hypnotized. “Right now, in the daylight, in the water…they’re this incredible shade. I hadn’t realized they could change colors until now.” 

Luke’s cheeks flamed even further. 

“I guess they do, depending on my mood, or emotions or what have you, but they’re nothing special,” he mumbled, dropping his eyes to the water, even as he continued to hold her against him. “ _You’re_ the one with the incredible eyes. They’re like… like wisps of cloud at twilight. _Mine_ aren’t anything special, really, just your everyday muddy brown.” 

“Luke Triton, it blows my mind that after all this time you've spent on earth, nobody has ever bothered to tell you your eyes _aren't brown_!” Pearl declared, taking his face into her hands and lifting his head so he had to look at her. Her lithe frame was still molded to his own, sharing her body heat as easily as she shared her heart. “They are flaming copper against honey and when you get excited, they glow like two perfect orbs the same shade as nature after it rains. They are warm and sweet like milk chocolate; when you look at me and smile, the creases frame them in perfect happiness. They are hot chocolate on a cold fall night and the soft warmness of them wraps around me like a blanket and makes me feel at home, no matter _where I am!”_

Extended silence followed her declaration, and Pearl suddenly wanted to sink into the pool of water they were standing in, only to never resurface again. If it was possible to _die_ of embarrassment, she was afraid she was going to do so at that moment. How could she have just blurted her jejune ardor out like that! Now she’d gone and made him feel even _more_ awkward and uncomfortable and he would think her nothing more than a silly, babbling, love-struck schoolgirl…

Luke’s mind was reeling at the words he’d just heard. After almost two weeks of long walks, conversations, and lingering glances with this fragile beauty who was still in his arms, he’d somehow, through sheer willpower, maintained his promised gentleman stance, not wanting to rush things, nor scare off the most amazing girl he’d ever encountered in his 18 years. 

He’d never met a girl like Pearl Fey before in his life. Certainly, being kin to such an old and dear friend had made him more predisposed to liking her right out the gate, but there was something more to her, a certain unspoiled sweetness and innocence, unlike any he’d ever encountered before, and like an addictive drug, found he merely couldn’t get enough of her. He could never let another soul get close to him like this – emotionally, not just physically – but Pearl was so different. He’d never known a person to always have the right motivations, even when she risked exposing too much of herself because she wore that beautiful heart of hers on her sleeve. There was a purity to her, naivety perhaps, but she was the only flower in the meadow for his eyes. 

Luke stared deeply into those silvery moon orbs. He cupped her cheek, which was slowly turning calescent, and smiled affectionately before slowly leaning into her. His other hand was shaking slightly and his mind was repeating the same sentence over and over.

_Think long and hard about this … there’s no going back once you do this…_

However, the sound of his heart was beating so loudly, he couldn't concentrate. It felt like it was going to explode. Finally, his lips touched hers. Sparks flew in every direction and the world was slowly disappearing around them, along with all their worries, their troubles, and their problems. Pearl made him feel like nothing else mattered. The factor of geography and the miles that separated their residences didn’t faze Luke in the least; it wasn’t as though the long-distance would separate them forever. Some people were worth the wait and instinctively he knew Pearl Fey was one of them. 

_Love isn’t what makes the world go round, love is what makes the ride worthwhile._

It was a small, yet warm kiss. Luke honestly never knew a kiss so innocent could be so intimate and electrifying. Her lips were moving in perfect sync. His hands tightly gripped her waist as he pulled her closer as the kiss grew deeper, more passionate. He felt her palms on the back of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. A smile grew on his face as it started to tickle. Finally, they pulled apart. 

When they broke away for air, Pearl rested her forehead against his and gathered some much-needed oxygen. His knowing smirk told her everything and she smiled back, sinking into his hold as she felt her body flush warm. A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise of much more to come. This was a boy she wanted to keep getting to know more because she fully realized that this was no mere vacation fling.

This was a boy she could love forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debbie Gibson – Lost In Your Eyes


	98. The Rest Of The Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes, the brightest smiles hide the deepest secrets, the most beautiful eyes have cried the most tears and the kindest hearts have felt the most pain.”

**_Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse_**  
 _Berlin, Germany  
_ May 8, 2025, 12:30 PM

Maya was slowly getting used to the many different customs and lifestyles of Europe, and daily, found herself marveling at how vastly the food, culture, and architecture contrasted from America.

Before arriving in Germany, she’d only had only stereotypes to go on. She’d gotten exactly what she’d expected as far as the trains running on time, the engineering being world-leading, and the architecture being indomitably beautiful. What Maya _hadn't_ expected was how warm the people were, once you got past the somewhat guttural way the language sounded, and how their natural generosity of spirit stopped her homesickness in its tracks.

Of course, it also helped that the Kurain Master found this country’s traditional fare, such as _Schnitzel,_ _Spatzle, and Apfelstrudel_ to be a vast improvement from the _authentic_ cuisine she’d been forced to endure in both England and France! Not only was the food a comparatively far cry _–_ hell _,_ German food was _verdammt köstlich_ on its own accord, even when not in favorable comparison to bloody meat, animal innards, and amphibian limbs!

The topography surrounding Berlin was picturesque; an area of low-lying marshy woodlands with a mainly flat bailiwick and a series of the deepest blue lakes Maya had ever seen. It was truly nature at its finest.

Then there was the capital of Germany itself.

Berlin was more than just a lively cosmopolitan city. It was a fascinating, vibrant mix of international artists, immigrants, and young visitors from all over Europe, attracted by its progressive cultural scene, easy-going attitude, and buzzing nightlife. Maya had gotten a heaping dose of _all of the above_ the night before.

On their first evening there, after taking her to the enchanting and enthralling Berlin Philharmonic, she and Longines had boogied until dawn at the clubs, where he’d burned up the dance floor and nearly worn down her stilettos to kitten heels while trying to keep up with him!

On top of all the marvelous things to see and do, Berlin was a city steeped with a fascinating, universally renowned history! Maya had enjoyed a whirlwind couple of days enjoying the local sights while Longines tended to business matters in the daytime. She had loved exploring the historical, world-famous landmarks, such as Brandenburg Gate, where she’d noticed a row of white crosses lining the road. Yes, the tour guide had confirmed, those were memorials to people who had died trying to cross the Wall. Then he’d led the group to the double row of cobblestones in the road that now marked where the Wall had once stood, before taking the tourist group to see the somber Memorial of the Berlin Wall.

Truly, Maya found the city’s culture was something to behold, and that Berlin was so much more than just a landmark for historical tragedies! Some of Europe's finest museums were clustered on the Unesco-listed Museum Island in central Berlin, all within easy walking distance, so Maya didn’t even need to use the excellent public transport system. She’d had managed to check all five institutions: The Altes Museum (Old Museum), The Neues Museum (New Museum), The Bode Museum, and the Pergamon Museum. Her favorite by far was the Bode, which exhibited the sculpture collections and late Antique and Byzantine art.

Today had been her final day of touring Berlin, as she was now due to visit her old friend.

For lunch, Maya and Longines dined at a quaint local restaurant, where he’d assured her not to take it personally when the server didn’t immediately return her reflexive sunny smile; apparently, folks in Berlin found such displayed actions unnecessary and superficial. He went on to elaborate that in Germany, it was a compliment if asked how you were doing, because it meant the person cared to know, as opposed to making inane small talk.

 _Whatever you want to say about those plain-speaking Germans,_ Maya noted wryly, _there isn’t a fake nor pretentious bone in their bodies!_

She found herself famished from their earlier visit to The East Side Gallery, a 1.3 km long section of the Berlin Wall, consisting of 105 paintings by artists from all over the world, and therefore dove in headfirst by the time they finally sat down to their heavenly meal. The sublime eats consisted of _Schweinenbraten_ , a delicious roast pork dish, served with braised _sauerkraut_ and dumplings, called _Knoedel_ , and a side of pilsner beer.

“Sure beats frog legs and cow brains, huh?” Longines teased as Maya ordered a second serving of _Kartoffelpuffer,_ shallow pan-fried pancakes made from grated or ground potatoes mixed with flour, egg, onion, and seasoning. The hair heir had enjoyed his fare as a salty side dish alongside his meaty main course; the ever-gluttonous Master snarfed hers as a sweet treat, opting to douse them with blueberries, sugar, and cinnamon.

She paused in the act of spooning applesauce onto her fourth sugar and cinnamon coated German flapjack and looked at her friend sheepishly.

“Was my aversion to the food in Cannes _that_ obvious?” She asked, blushing slightly at his knowing smirk.

“Well, I _wasn’t_ about to point out that I noticed your supposedly _birdlike palate_ magically vanished the minute we left France and England,” Longines deadpanned. “But since _you_ brought it up, it is hard to pretend not to notice that you are _not_ a major drinker in any way shape, or form, and have barely touched your beer. Yet despite that fact, the night of the film festival, when you claimed you had _no appetite_ , you were filling up on the champagne as though it was going out of style!”

 _My barely touching this **swill they call beer** is hardly evidence of anything! _Maya made a face _. The stuff tastes like **piss water**! Even the British serve a better pint!_

“Those are some powerful observation and deduction skills you’ve got there,” She responded innocently, with barely suppressed laughter. “It’s no wonder you and the Professor got along so swimmingly!”

“High praise indeed, being compared to a brilliant, and knighted, world-famous archeologist!” His cerulean eyes twinkled with mirth. “With regards to my astute deductions to your notable healthy desire for food, my initial observations kicked in on our trip over here. I noted that although your cousin barely had a bite on the jet ride over, you had no qualms eating her share of fodder as well as yours! By putting the pieces of this mysterious together, I have deemed that indeed, Sir Layton is right, and every puzzle has a solution! It seemed the obvious elucidation to ensuring your sudden dainty appetite only remained a temporary thing was to switch countries!”

“Couldn’t fool you for a minute, could I? I confess, guilty as charged!” Maya shrugged and flashed him a mischievous smile, void of any remorse or shame. “I nearly made Nick nearly broke back in the day with my legendary six stomachs! To this day, I have no idea how he afforded me!”

“Luckily for you, I’m a billionaire!” Longines chuckled good-naturedly, waving the waitress over to pay the bill. “Or should I say, luckily for me that the one thing I needn’t fret about is you eating me out of house and homes!”

“So tell me, what _is_ something you do need to concern about then, Monsieur Beaugosse?” Maya batted her eyelashes coyly at him as they hopped into a cab.

“Oh, that’s easy!” He flashed her a disarming smile. “Even as we now speak, I am already worrying myself sick about dealing with how desperately I shall miss you when I drop you off your friends’ place, ergo losing the pleasure of your divine company for nearly a week!”

Just like with Pearl’s defecting, Longines had been most understanding about Maya’s desire to stay with Franziska instead of touring about Germany for the rest of their stay and hadn’t even protested about it cutting into her bonding time with him. Instead, he’d benignly smiled and stated he would be happy to have her back to himself when he whisked her to Rome for a spell before heading back to London to collect the love-struck Pearl, who, after a fortnight with Luke, they’d undoubtedly need to drag back onto the homebound jet plane, kicking and screaming!

“Quite the sweet talker, aren’t you?” She laughed and nudged him playfully in the ribs.

“Yet I _meant_ every word of it, Maya Fey.” He tapped her lightly on the nose and regarded her with a serious expression. “I couldn’t have asked for a more fabulous traveling companion if my life had depended on it! Although I’ve been to Europe many times in my life, these _stale eyes of mine_ have brought a completely new perspective by making me look at things through your own fresh point of view. This trip has truly been riveting and incredible, and I cannot thank you enough for it.”

The sincerity in his tone made Maya blush slightly and turn her head to look out the window, unsure of how to respond.

It was true that she had been enjoying herself immensely for the past week or so with the world’s most amiable and congenial tour guide. She thought of Pearl daily, of course, but her daily calls to the Professor had fully reassured that Luke and Pearl were safe and having the time of their lives, so she had nothing to worry about there. Consequently, she was happier than she thought she ever could be, considering the still recent breaking of her heart.

On the other hand, said heart was still in no place just yet to move on entirely. As wonderful and charming as the billionaire was, you couldn’t compare a mere month of friendship to _six_ _years of romance;_ liking to _loving_ ; warm affection to _endless blazing passion_ which had known no bounds.

By day, with the handsome, laughing blond man at her side, she could laugh and smile and fall into the role, even genuinely enjoy his company. What woman wouldn’t? Longines Beaugosse was the epitome of worldly sophistication. He spoke at least half a dozen languages fluently and was so well-traveled and cultured that he didn’t even need a tour guide to know what the best places for them to see and things to do were. When he’d offered to show her the world, he’d meant it, and done it in spades!

However, on the inside, she still felt listless and empty.

In all the years of her existence, in the many worlds, she had seen, there was one thing that had always been true: people only see what they want to see. This thing with Longines was no different.

Since the breakup, and especially since coming to Europe, Maya despaired that it seemed it would _never_ get easier. In this case, here she was, among new and exciting people, in beautiful places anyone would give their eyeteeth to see, and yet somehow, she still felt utterly alone.

It pained her to have everyone around her believe in the lie she was living; in the happy façade that was completely a false veneer to mask her true pain. The burden of that often weighed heavily upon her soul. It was her thing to put on a happy face and dance for the sake of her little girl; she’d had nearly a decade to grow accustomed to putting on a strong front for Pearl’s sake.

It was still quite another to do so in such a convincing manner with a completely unassuming, kind-hearted stranger, and hence endear herself to him so soon.

 _I am one of life's smilers; it's how I greet friend, stranger, or foe. It doesn't mean I'm OK on the inside. Not at all._ _Nick knew that; as did my sister and mother as well, but they are gone. People who meet me, even friends who don’t know the true me, will sing my praises, that I'm "such a happy person," "a real gem" and "one of a kind." Nevertheless, inside I feel like the love I’ve accumulated over the years is dissipating faster than the dwindling endangered rainforests._

It was her fault. She had chosen the path that had lead to having to weave herself into his life. Naturally, the newly orphaned, lonely traveling businessman had come to have a _tendre_ for her and if she continued down this path, could even come to love her, and once he loved her it would become her burden to bear the terrible truth, which was he would only be loving her lies and the character she played.

With this truth crept a dark feeling, cold, and void of hope. It made every word that slipped from her lips feel sullied. Soon her smiles were reflexive and her eyes were dull, so empty. When she laughed, it sounded hollow, like the laugh of a woman about to die.

And poor Longines didn’t know her well enough to know the difference.

Nighttime, alone in her bed, was always the worst. It reminded her that in this crowded world, even this magical, whole new world that Longines had brought her to, Maya was alone. A hellish kind of isolation where her only company was loneliness, which seemed it would never leave.

When would it stop? Her broken heart was slowly healing, but would it ever truly _mend?_

At that moment, Maya was dying to see her old friend more than anything in the world, and at last be able to have someone she could fully trust and confide in with utmost confidence, to help sort out her daily tumultuous and conflicting feelings about everything.

* * *

 _ **Maya Fey and Franziska Von Karma**_  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_ _  
_May 8, 2025, 12:55 PM

As the taxi pulled up before the at the 36-foot-high fountain in the massive driveway of the enormous,   
19th-century Neoclassical manor, the Master couldn’t help but marvel the splendor of her friend’s residence. 

While her own home, the grand and sprawling Fey Manor had its regal, albeit traditional Eastern influential style, this particular European mansion was just about the most resplendent, majestic one she had ever seen, and even from the outside, looked fit for royalty.

Maya turned to Longines with a bright smile then, finally speaking for the first time since his last statement, which had lapsed the rest of the ride over in silence.

“You didn’t _have_ to see me off here personally, you know. I could easily come here myself!” She chided. “I know you have busy matters to attend to in Berlin today, what with over a dozen salon openings here in Germany alone, most of which are in the capital city!”

“Don’t be silly!” He brushed away her protest with an airy wave of his hand. “I’m going to be gone for a good few days, so you ladies have your privacy and time to catch up, but it would be so rude of me not to at least come to the door and say hello to your friend. I’ve heard so much about her; it will be nice to finally meet the woman, who up until this point I’ve only heard of by reputation alone.”

“I’m sure Franziska will be thrilled to know you’ve done your homework on her,” Maya joked. “Tell me, did you do a background check on everybody in my life since we’ve met?”

“Of course not!” He retorted with mock indignation, flashing her a disarming grin. “I did all the preliminary stalking before we even met! There was nearly a month since our initial correspondence until our first meeting, you know!” 

Maya just giggled as she exited the taxi and smiled pleasantly at the driver as he grabbed her bags and carried them up to the main entrance. Longines spoke a quick smattering of German to him, as rapid-fire as any of the locals she had encountered since they had arrived two days before, and she couldn’t help but marvel at her friend’s flawless execution of a language she was no closer to mastering than any other she’d encountered. After all, despite the crash course in diverse cultures, her unilingual ass still only spoke English, and she barely even got that right half the time! Thank heavens for her cunning linguist friend to swoop in and save the day whenever she got herself in hot water by saying something that could get lost in translation! 

Thank heavens for Longines, _period_.

The heir wasn’t entirely alone in his earlier sentiment, Maya realized then. He truly was a classy, valiant, renaissance gentleman, and delightful companion, of whom she too, had unwittingly grown very fond. She could now confidently call him her friend, and while this long overdue visit with Franziska was just what the doctor ordered, a part of her knew she was going to miss him, too.

Nevertheless, she was going to appreciate the next few days apart from him. She needed to clear her mind with some much-needed alone time to better sort herself.

“I told the cabby I would only be a few minutes in the keep the car running,” Longines told her as he thudded the brass knocker on the heavy wooden door.

A distinguished, silver-haired butler eventually answered, and smiled pleasantly at her.

" _Guten Tag,"_ he greeted with a polite bow, then stepped aside so they could enter. " _Willkommen im Herrenhaus_ , _Gnädige frau_ Fey, _Herr_ Wright." 

Maya nodded hesitantly in confirmation of her identity, but as she opened her mouth to advise the manservant that her companion was _not_ Mr. Wright _,_ they suddenly heard a shuffle behind him and saw Franziska walking towards them into the main hallway. 

As the Kurain Master at last set sight on her old friend for the first time, _in the flesh_ , in six long years, she couldn’t help but gawking at Miles Edgeworth’s fiancée as though she’d never seen her before.

The woman, now in her late 20’s, striding towards them had the same silvery hair, albeit longer than Maya last remembered, which now fell in silky waves just past her shoulders. Considering how big she’d looked only a few months ago on Skype, her surprisingly slender frame was outfitted casually in a pair of black skinny jeans and a loose-fitting, cream-colored, cashmere sweater. Her smooth, fair complexion made her beautiful pink lips stand out, and while her face was free of any artifice, her cheeks looked nearly rouged as they flushed pink with pleasure at the sight of her.

Therefore, at first glance, the years indeed appeared to have been kind to Franziska von Karma.

Nonetheless, as one that was well-practiced in appearing as though all were fine on the surface, Maya’s scrutinizing gaze couldn’t help but take note that as her friend approached, her gait was halting, as though something was wrong. Maya couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

_She's almost walking right, but there's something out of sync. Perhaps one leg is stopping a little short or maybe going long – it's so hard to tell! Despite all that, when I see that welcoming smile, at last, all my thoughts of inquiry fade. I guess the best way to put it is that while the woman I see before me may not be seen as conventionally beautiful; to me, she's simply haunting._

As Franziska drew near, she placed a slim hand on Maya’s arm and went to give her the traditional European air kiss on the cheek, but froze in mid-gesture as she, at last, took in the sight of the tall stranger at her side.

 _“Was zur Hölle?”_ She blurted out, her huge gray eyes wide with astonishment. “Y – You are not Phoenix Wright!”

There was an uncomfortable silence. The butler quite mystifyingly chose _that exact moment_ to vanish from sight.

 _Oh dear, this is super awkward!_ Maya bit her lip anxiously _. I didn’t **mean** to misrepresent myself when I emailed her a few weeks ago and told her that **we** would be coming to Europe. It never occurred to me to clarify…_

Longines was the first to recover and treated the startled _Frau_ to his signature megawatt smile.

“Indeed, I am _not_ Phoenix Wright,” he agreed pleasantly. “Nevertheless, I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss von Karma, that I shall not even take offense to that mistaken identity. Rest assured, I have certainly been called worse!”

The silver-haired woman didn’t reply and continued to stare back and forth between her two visitors with a completely flummoxed look on her pretty face.

“You got me, Franziska! He’s not Nick!” The psychic said quickly, placing a hand on her companion's arm and smiling sweetly. “Allow me to introduce you to Longines Beaugosse.”

“And who might _he_ be?” The German queried, with what Maya had quickly learned was typical _Deutsche_ direct bluntness. “I have already determined who he most assuredly is _not_ the man I have long known to be your swain, the very one who, based on your email, I had presumed would be the one arriving here with you!”

 _Gimme a break! I never misled anyone on purpose! I never said **Nick’s** name! For all Franziska knew, I could have just been referring to myself and **Pearly,** who, for the record, had she not fallen head over heels with the Professor’s former apprentice, would be here by my side right now!_

“Don’t be silly, Franziska,” Maya forced her grin even wider, even though it was now hurting her cheeks to do so. “As you are surely aware, Phoenix Wright is a disbarred lawyer who makes no more than presumable minimum-wage working as a second-rate piano player at a seedy bar! I’m certain even additional money made from being anundercover poker shark at said shady establishment still wouldn’t allow him to have the required funds to accompany me here, right?” 

“I – I suppose I had assumed that you would have paid his fare,” Franziska stammered, clearly shaken anew at the unflattering summary of the man who, when she had last seen him on the webcam, had been happily by her friend’s side as her very much enamored lover! “I can see now that was quite foolish of me to do so…”

“I’m not paying _anything_ of his any longer!” The Master informed her with false cheer, her fingers tightening on Longines’ arm with the growing tension of the situation. “ _Including_ his rent! He’ll just have to fend for himself, now won’t he?” 

The billionaire looked like he wished he were _anywhere_ but _there_ at that precise moment, but once again smiled brightly at Franziska as he attempted to engage her. 

“You know, you have _fabulous_ hair,” he told her pleasantly. “Perchance, _You Blo Me?”_

Maya could have died of mortification right there and then.

Franziska's shocked expression turned into one of customary righteous indignation, while her eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“What new level of foolishness is this now?!” She spluttered, her hand reaching reflexively for her whip holster. “How _dare_ you!”

Longines saw the action, and swallowed nervously, realizing belatedly that his nerves had allowed him to speak of his business in the most misunderstood and possibly _offensive way_ , ever! Utterly lost as to how to remedy his last question, he spoke his next words in rapid-fire succession, not even pausing for breath as he surreptitiously began inching his way backward.

“Ah, the name of my famous chain of blow dry bars, Miss Von karma. No disrespect intended, heh heh. We are opening up several locations in this lovely country of yours, including Frankfurt and Berlin.”

He quickly patted his companion on the arm and carefully extracted her death grip from his other one.

“Oh, wow, will you look at the time! I must be off now, can’t keep that cabby waiting too long, you know! The meter’s running! This was a real treat! Maya, see you in a week! You girls have fun! Ta-ta!” With that, he hightailed it to the cab, barely closing the door shut as it sped off.

The two women stared after him for a moment, before looking at each other in disbelief.

 _“Was zum Teufel?”_ Franziska gasped, just as Maya at the same time began to say, “ _Mein Gott,_ _I am so sorry!”_

Suddenly realizing the lunacy of the situation, the friends burst into a fit of simultaneous laughter, so hard that tears of mirth came to both their eyes.

“I _swear_ to you, he’s normally much more _genteel!_ ” The diviner giggled, removing her white and mint-colored sunhat. “I think you just made the poor man nervous! However, _do_ you manage to make people so uncomfortable without even trying?”

The silver-haired beauty shrugged.

“It is a gift.” She wiped her eyes, which were suddenly sparkling pent up tears of mirth, and gently tugged her visitor’s hand to lead her into the house. “That felt _so_ good, you have no idea!” 

“Tell me about it! Gosh, Franziska, this place is _gorgeous_ ,” Maya breathed as her appreciative gaze took in the high ceilings and exquisite wall paintings before settling back on her friend. “And look at _you_ , all perfectly back in shape so soon after the baby like the perfect von Karma you are! Where is little Carol? Asleep?”

The laughter died from the German woman’s eyes then, and she sighed heavily as she closed the heavy door behind them.

“Come and join me for a drink in the study,” she said in response. “I’m in sudden need of one.”

“It’s just after lunch!” Maya exclaimed reflexively, even though by now she knew Europeans liked to have their liquor more often than Americans typically did. She followed her hostess into the small private room with a liquor cabinet, where her friend was pouring herself a tumbler of some sort of amber liquid.

“Surely, it’s after five somewhere,” Franziska countered flippantly, taking a long swig from her glass and slightly gasping as it seared its way down her throat. “I realize you and I have a lot of catching up to do, but first off, I would like to state, for the record, that I very much like your new shorter hairstyle. It makes you look more grown-up and sophisticated."

She lifted the glass again and paused to look at the spirit medium with slightly deadened eyes.

"Speaking of hair, how should we commence, Maya? Shall I go first, or would _you_ like to commence the festivities and enlighten me to the truth behind the real identity of that strange man – who, incidentally, has a more glorious mane than you and I put together?Thus far, the only thing that has been established is that is not … _Phoenix Wright."_

“On second thought, I’ll have whatever you’re having.” The necromancer sank onto the armchair behind her then and flashed a euchred smile. “I think I’m going to need that drink, after all.”


	99. Daughters Of Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch your thoughts; they become words  
> Watch your words; they become actions  
> Watch your actions; they become a habit  
> Watch your habits; they become character  
> Watch your character; it becomes your destiny

**_Maya Fey and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ May 8, 2025, 3:30 PM

Even if she'd been pressed hard, Franziska didn't think she would have been able to properly elaborate on her currently numbed grieving state if her life had depended on it.

That being said, if further prompted, she supposed she would have likened her despondency to death by a thousand paper cuts, for every time she remembered her loss, it was another cut to her already damaged mind. Even though none of the wounds were enough to kill her, over time, their accumulation further bled her of the humanity she had once had. Where she once had been vibrant and spirited, now she was just gaunt and melancholy.

In the case with relaying the circumstances to Maya, she decided to simply recite the facts, as though recalling historical events about a chronicle that wasn't her own, which forced her voice to remain level and composed and left little room for a breakdown as she rehashed to her friend what had happened.

"Ultimately, Miles got called back to work, and that was that." Franziska finished dully sometime later, her eyes no longer meeting Maya's as she stared at the nearly empty contents of her third glass of Jägermeister.

" _Dear God_." Maya shook her head sorrowfully, completely at a loss for words. "So it's just been you here, all by yourself, ever since this tragedy?"

"Not _completely_. I _do_ have a house full of doting servants to attend to my needs. Unless I overdo it with the workouts, like I did today, the stitches from the Cesarean are mostly healed and do not hurt too much anymore. Ergo, I can finally move around on my own, for the most part," Franziska returned flatly, clutching her glass so hard her knuckles turned white. "Katharina stayed here with me for a month afterward, before she had to leave and get back to her work and duties. It was the same thing with Miles. I do not fault him – he _had_ to leave. He was with me for the whole two months after I lost Carol, and as they say, the show must go on, right? The world does not stop turning simply because your heart is broken."

 _Ain't that the truth?_ Maya blinked back tears of sympathy. _Oh my dear friend, how I long to convey that, almost better than anybody could, I know just how true that is! I don't even know which one of us has it rougher, though what does it matter, in the end? A loss is a loss, and we are both grieving for those no longer in our lives, because one way or another, they were cruelly taken from us._

"Dear girl," she whispered, the catch evident in her voice as she set down her drained glass on the table beside the armchair and rose to her feet. In two steps, she closed the distance between them and stood right before her friend, who had been standing in front of the liquor cabinet this entire time while she poured out her tale of woe. "Franziska, I am so, so sorry for your loss."

It was the tremor of barely suppressed tears of empathy, not mere sympathy, which at last made the German woman look up from her drink and study Maya properly for the first time since she had arrived at her doorstep over two hours ago.

Franziska had known Maya Fey for nearly a decade now since they were both teenagers. The two of them were the same age, though Maya had been a later bloomer than Franziska had been, and she hadn't set eyes on the other woman in person since her 21st birthday party when she had acknowledged that nature had blossomed the spirit medium into quite the beauty. Seeing her up close now, after so long, only reinforced that truth.

The Kurain Master was of pastel white skin, with long wisps of obsidian locks that always seemed to gleam when they captured the light just right. Moreover, at that precise moment, the quondam prosecutor realized that Maya Fey also had the kindest pair of coffee brown orbs, trimmed by the longest, most gorgeous lashes that she'd ever seen in her whole life. Lovely eyes, yet somehow gentle, that always held warmth within them, and were now also shining with sympathy.

While Franziska had heard every single possible condolence since her daughter's passing, in English _and_ German, there was something that she saw on that compassionate visage that moment which made her feel, for the first time in a very long time, that somebody other than Miles not only _felt_ her agony but _shared_ it too. Despite the newfound pain, which always resurfaced whenever she thought of or spoke of Carol, there was something she saw in Maya's eyes that made it impossible for her to retreat into her own private world of selfish grief at the moment. Something that made her want to not only _accept_ comfort but inexplicably _give_ it as well.

Unfortunately, years of suppressing her emotions made her completely unaware of how to go about doing so.

The Master’s heart ached so badly for the other woman she thought it would surely break. To see such a formerly strong, formidable woman like Franziska Von Karma now reduced to an empty shell of what she'd once been, was gut-wrenching. What would it take to mend a soul as damaged like that, and who would attempt to?

The answer: _she_ would, or _die trying_.

"Oh, Franziska." Maya tugged at her friend's sleeve, and without another word, gently pulled the rigid, albeit unresisting woman's form against hers. “Come here.”

The German stiffened reflexively. She was so unused to physical contact with anybody but Miles that the first touch of another human being after so long, while not unwelcome, was still jolting.

"Maya Fey, you foolish fool!” She bristled, arms remaining locked by her side, even though her voice was trembling. “What do you think you're doing?”

Undaunted, the spirit medium only held on tighter. While Franziska didn't return the embrace, she didn't turn away either, and a muffled sob was heard coming from the _Frau_ in Maya's arms, even as she remained stubbornly unyielding.

_Goddammit, woman! Stop being a Von Karma right now and just let me **love** you!_

Franziska had been hugged before, since her daughter had passed, but never like _this_ , where there was something _so warm_ ; something that felt _so right_. She, at last, let her body sag and her muscles become loose. The American gave her the respect of an equal, yet cradled her like a cherished child. In that embrace, she felt her worries lose their keen sting and her optimism raise its head from the dirt. Perhaps the hope had been there all along, although without some love, it had been trapped, like crystals in a stone. All she could do was try and release her pent up emotions out of the darkness she'd been in for so long, and even that was hard.

Nevertheless, in Maya Fey's arms, Franziska experienced the purest, unconditional, honest form of love she had _ever_ felt from someone who was neither her fiancé nor relative. The world-weariness, that stifling feeling of _Weltschmerz,_ left her completely, and she finally raised her arms to return the embrace, dropping her head onto her friend's shoulder, left bare by her mint-colored sundress, and let her silent tears fall.

She'd needed this so much. Hadn't even realized just _how_ much, until that very moment.

_They say that compassion is the closest thing you get to love, although I'd argue that compassion is just as great at times when your entire being is so broken inside that your own cries get stuck in the back of your throat. Your sorrow brings you so far gone that you can't even shed a tear. Your screams get lost in your head. Is compassion not so much love that your brain could explode just by being around those people you care about most? Until I stood in this woman's arms just now, never before had I ever experienced such a sense of **Gemütlichkeit** , of complete, satiating coziness and comfort._

The two remained in each other's arms for several moments, just reveling in the solace they had been seeking for so long until Franziska finally realized that Maya's shoulder wasn't the only one that was soaked. The right shoulder of her sweater was positively drenched.

"Thank you, Maya," Franziska whispered. "I didn't realize until right now, just how much I needed that." She drew back slightly then and studied her friend's damp eyes with concern. "Hold on! Why are _you_ crying?"

Maya sniffled and wiped her eyes. She felt so ashamed of herself, crying over the loss of some blasted man when her friend had experienced the worst kind of loss possible – that of her own child.

"I just – I've missed you. A lot," she mumbled and looked away in embarrassment. "And my heart breaks for you for all you've been through."

Franziska viewed her steadily, her truth-seeking prosecutor's eyes seeing right through the other woman's façade of attempted composure.

_In my life, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you'll never meet a strong person with an easy past._

"Your heart breaks," she prompted quietly. "Even more than it already has been?"

Maya gazed at her with a forlorn expression, feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable.

"Franziska…please don't underestimate how dear you are to me," she pleaded. "We weren't even friends that night of my 21st birthday, yet I've never forgotten the kindness you bestowed upon me. While my tears are partially for my personal loss, I know it doesn't even compare to yours! I beg you not to think less of me for my own weakness when you are the one with a greater cause of grief. I am so torn right now, even saying this, yet I am unable to lie to you and say that I am a stranger to heartache as of late."

"I sensed as much." The hostess used a tone that was far gentler than any her guest had ever heard her use before. "And I want you to feel free to confide in me if you feel comfortable enough to do so."

_I can't even explain **how** I knew of her sorrow… I just **felt** it. I just **knew** that she's been feeling exactly what **I've** been experiencing – that overwhelming sense of **Mutterseelenallein** – that horrid feeling that no soul is with you, and that you're so alone that not even your mother's soul can be by your side. I don't know if being in this dark place these past few months, with nothing except my own thoughts and emotions as my company, is what's made me more sensitive in general, because I've never been in tune with, or cared too much, about other people. With Maya, for some reason…though, it's different. Perhaps I just have a particular connection with her that cannot be defined. It's one I don't think I've ever had with any other woman, except perhaps my sister, **ever**._

At that exact moment, Helga appeared in the doorway, and the diviner hurriedly closed her mouth.

The old housemaid greeted the new guest with a welcoming smile while carrying a silver tray laden with a delectable selection of bread, various fresh cheeses, smoked salmon and thinly sliced meats and cold cuts.

" _Entschuldigung_ , _gnädige Frau, Aufschnitte für die Damen_." Helga set the tray down on the desk and regarded Franziska sternly, waving away the protest she was about to make. " _Du musst essen._ _Sie sind zu dünn!_ _Ihr Freund zu!"_

Franziska barely stifled a frustrated sigh at the housekeeper's well-intentioned, yet ill-timed interruption.

"Resistance is futile; Helga is going to _insist_ that we eat _something,_ you know," she translated to Maya with a wry smile. "She says I look too thin, and so do _you_."

"Well, she doesn't need to twist _my_ arm." The gluttonous spirit medium’s mouth was beginning to water at the scrummy smorgasbord that had been presented, and her misery temporarily abated in place of her ever-present appetite. Also, the unaccustomed amount of strong spirits in her now empty stomach was burning a hole within her gut. "That looks _lecker."_

Franziska's lips twitched into a knowing smile. Trust Maya Fey, out of all the German words, to have picked up on the adjective to describe tasty _food!_

Nonetheless, that was what made Maya, _Maya._ As she watched her friend tuck into her fare with her customary gusto, as though she hadn't eaten in a month, the former prosecutor found herself helplessly endeared that even as a grown-up, who was now a single mom, her old friend still exhibited many of the candid traits of her youth.

_She's the most childlike adult I've ever met, although talking to her has been so refreshing. She lacks the guile and complexity of everyone else I have ever known; with Maya, **what you see** is what **she is**. When she smiles and laughs, it's impossible not to smile along too, even if it's just on the inside. To be in her company is to feel that you too are someone, that you have been warmed in summer rays, regardless of the season._

At least, that _had_ been the Maya whom Franziska had always known, right up until _then_.

Staring into the other woman's eyes _now_ was like gazing into a mirror of her own soul, and feeling completely lost at the kaleidoscope of raw emotions she saw there.

Internal pain and struggle. Jumbled and disordered thoughts. Things loved most that had been thrown aside, trashed from the mind. Memories covered and caked with darkness and torment.

_Sorrow is the new smile in her eye. Tears replace the sunshine. And life is dark, for what seems to be forever. I must find some way to let her know it doesn't need to be so. This woman offered me comfort while asking for nothing in return. A small piece of me now feels somewhat healed because of her, even though **her** insides remain broken. How can I help her? I'm not very good at matters of the heart. If I were, my Miles would still be with me…_

Franziska steeled herself and her mind from spiraling yet again onto that one-way, self-pitying track into the black abyss and placed her fingertips on Maya's hand, which was brushing off a few stray crumbs onto her plate. Not a speck of food remained on the tray.

"Do you think you're satisfied for now, or shall I have Helga get us something else?" She smirked, gesturing to the empty tray. "I just wanted to ensure that everything was to your liking?

"What, no _Döner Kebab_? That's what's made this whole visit to Germany worthwhile!" Maya quipped, blushing slightly as she patted her mouth daintily with her napkin. "I jest, of course, though I admit, I _may_ be overcompensating with your country's _zum Anbeißen_ food since coming here to Germany. Before that, I think I may have lost a few pounds from light eating during my time in the first two European two countries," she admitted. "If your maid thought I appeared thin, it's possibly because aside from the Professor's scrumptious lamb dinner the first night in London, I was subjected to some _authentic fare_ which just _did not_ sit right with my palate! I pretty much just lived off cheese and champagne in France, and off toast and tea and _chips,_ as they call them over there, in England!"

"Oh, you foolish Americans!" The hostess admonished laughingly. "Must you be so xenophobic? I see your newfound sophistication is limited strictly to your hairstyle, Maya Fey! Do you plan on living the rest your life existing entirely on burgers and French fries, regardless of where you go?"

Maya sighed as she followed her friend out of the study, down the hall, and up the stairs to one of the guest bedrooms, which she’d been told was right next to her Franziska’s. One of the servants had already thoughtfully put her bags by the bed, which the Kurain Master now flopped onto, pulling her knees to her chin as she patted the spot beside her.

"I remember I once gave a lecture to Nick, to stop sticking with the same old food habits and not be afraid to embrace new things," the raven-haired beauty murmured, idly twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "In this case, it was because he was reluctant to try this amazing gourmet chicken with a fruity sauce that Hendricks had labored over at the penthouse. I hated the idea of either of us appearing ungrateful, so I threatened to rat him out to Miles if he didn't comply and eat his damn bird like a good boy!"

There it was again, Franziska noted as she took a seat on the bed. While the story was supposed to be funny, and it was, the sadness in those dark eyes didn't match the humor of the tale whatsoever, and only made her more concerned about her friend's state of being.

"Maya." Somehow, the Interpol agent instinctively already knew the answer to the question she was about to pose. "What happened with Phoenix?"

* * *

Maya's eyes were as brown as sweet chocolate, the kind that melted at the slightest bit of the heat from love, or happiness. Regardless, that chocolate could also grow hard from heartbreak or the cold harsh reality that was apparent in the world, and in this case, the depression that she hid from all those around her so well, right up until that moment, when Franziska saw unmistakable tears once again glistening in those expressive orbs.

That was when she immediately knew. Deep down, from the moment she'd first observed her friend's eyes, she'd _already_ known.

"I am very sorry, my friend." Franziska shook her head sadly. "Phoenix Wright is a foolish fool of a man to think he can do any better than you."

The spirit medium peered into those kindhearted gray eyes, which showed the kind of gentle concern her beloved sister used to have, and as she laid her fingers lightly on Maya's shoulder, instead of flinching at the unexpected gesture, she was soothed by it, as it felt as though she were wrapped up in a blanket of her caring. Franziska left her hand there and spoke with such a soft voice that the necromancer felt her friend's words calming her more by the _way_ they were said, than the actual words themselves, which were colorful variations – in English _and_ German! – of calling Phoenix Wright _"_ _die Mutter of all fool-hearted fools!"_

A single droplet slid from those warm, mocha eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed its way down her pale cheek, releasing the wretchedness and sorrow that had been held inside of her for all this time, even though she still did not make a sound.

Wordlessly, Franziska reached over, held the petite woman in her arms, and let her cry her heart out.

"I feel like such a pitiful _idiot!"_ Maya wept. "To be crying in front of _you,_ after everything that _you've_ gone through…"

"Stop talking like a fool, Maya." Franziska gently rubbed her friend's back. "When words fail me, and right now, I will be honest, they _do_ , I find a good cry can be equally as comforting. With me, always know that you have the freedom to do that."

And so, placated by those words, Maya let out a heart-wrenching wail, followed by a series of blatant sobs that wracked her body, even though she still hated herself for the proverbial actions of preaching to the choir and forcing comfort from a woman who had already lost so much.

However, attempting to halt the flowing rivulets cascading down her cheeks would have been like trying to hold back a tidal wave. She just couldn't stop.

_Crying is how I understand myself best. When I cry, I know who I really am. I cry when others hurt, as well as myself. I've cried at stupid children's samurai shows and brutal world news and stupid soft movies. It's my strength and my weakness. Strong because it brings understanding and weak because who wants the listener to weep when they are seeking a strong shoulder? I wish I could turn my tears off, or perhaps just save it until I'm alone, but I'm not wired like that. My emotions swirl like ocean currents, deep and strong. Sometimes I'm scared to dive in, just in case I don't make it out again. Regardless, I can't be anyone else. I don't suppose any of us can._

For the longest time, Maya bawled in the former prosecutor's arms, until at last, her tears ran dry, and then she was finally quiet.

"Do you feel any better now?" Franziska discreetly plucked a tissue from the night table and gently pressed it against the American’s knuckles.

The psychic nodded silently and mopped at her damp face with the proffered paper handkerchief.

"It's been two months," she uttered morosely, staring into the sympathetic argent gaze. "And it still hurts as much as it did the day he left me. I've tried to be strong, because my little girl loved him so much, and I can't be breaking down in front of her… I can't even badmouth him, not only because it would be like badmouthing her father, but also because I still love him! I was trying to play it cool and not let Longines know just what a wreck I still am about it all, but saying those atrocities in front of him about Nick …it damn near killed me, as pathetic as that sounds!"

"It is not pathetic," Franziska patted her hand. "You cannot control who you love."

"How can I still ache for a man who tossed me aside like yesterday's trash?" Maya lamented. "Am I some kind of masochist? A complete doormat, with no self-esteem, because I know I would take him back in a New York minute if he just gives me the word, even though I would hate myself at the same time since doing so would mean sacrificing all of my self-respect?"

"None of the above," Franziska assured her. "I do understand exactly how you feel. We even have a term in German to paraphrase what it is that you're feeling. It's called _Sehnsucht."_

"Come again?" The brunette peered at her blankly, what such an animated expression of confusion it was almost comical.

" _Sehnsucht._ This is another word that describes a complex set of emotions," Franziska explained. "It comes from _sehnen,_ which means " _to yearn or long for_ ," and _sucht,_ an obsession, craving or addiction. Literally, it would mean something like " _an obsessive yearning_ " for something, but that doesn't quite capture it. It could be used to describe an inconsolable hankering for happiness and the unattainable. It could illustrate that you're intensely missing something or someone…”

The Kurain head blew her nose.

“…Even if they are _the_ most _foolish fool_ of a man to have ever graced God's green earth!" The German added darkly.

Maya had to crack a smile at that one.

"My friend, I will profess that I am not always very good with my verse," Franziska admitted. "Perhaps that is why I have always resorted to my whip to demonstrate the words I cannot properly convey! However, I want you to try an exercise with me. Pretend that I am Phoenix Wright, standing in front of you right now. What would you now express to him, which thus far, you have been unable to?"

The village leader thought about that for a moment and searched her mind for the right words to convey the tumultuous mix of anger, pain, and despair she had been experiencing for the last two months, and then turned her newfound furious, accusing gaze onto Franziska, speaking to her as though she _was_ her ex-boyfriend.

"Phoenix Wright, you have turned every moment we spent together into painful memories that are so sharp, they cut right through me whenever I think about our time together! Even the sweet good moments we had are now turned into a stabbing knife that kills my already broken heart. You not only _pierced my soul_ ; you made me skeptical and cynical about people and love!"

Maya jumped off the bed and pointed her finger at Franziska, courtroom style, her body trembling with the force of her rage.

"For that, I _hate_ you! Do you hear me? _I fucking hate you!_ You turned me into this broken mess, and even if I won't see you again, your touch will be with me for years, or maybe for the _rest of my life_! You fucked up my confidence, and I remember every single word you said that fateful night; I remember how you made me feel like a waste of space. Now that voice inside me, the one that puts me down and tells me I will never have a love like that ever again… it's not _my own_ anymore! It's – it's _your_ voice, telling me all over again how you don't _love_ me...that you merely _care_ for me! And that _you're leaving me for Iris!"_

" _Iris_? Iris _Hawthorne?!"_ Franziska stared at her incredulously, peepers round with shock. "As in, the twin sister of that crazy _Miststück_ , Dahlia Hawthorne? Your mystery cousin, whom you did not even know you had, until that horrible Hazakura temple case? _That_ Iris?"

"Yes indeed, _that_ would be the home-wrecking hussy." Although Maya laughed, it was completely devoid of mirth, sounding cold and harsh to both their ears. "The _one and only!"_

"I thought she was a _nun_?!"

"I guess she's breaking her celibacy vows," Maya replied bitterly.

"I thought she was in prison for her misdeeds during that whole incident involving your mother?"

"Guess which jailbird has now flown the coop?"

"I cannot _believe_ this!" Franziska jumped off the bed and placed her hands on her hips, completely outraged on her behalf. "That – that _Scheißkerl_ left _you_ for that … _weak-willed, brainless_ … _dishrag_ ex-girlfriend of his?!"

Maya nodded silently, and her friend's voice rose.

 _"Saukerl!"_ Franziska spat. " _Dämlich Arschloch_ is most fortunate he cannot taste the leather of my whip from here! Iris is as bland as rice cake and all Phoenix Wright got out of their relationship was a stomach full of glass and metal!"

"I know."

"The woman is completely spineless, mindless, and good for nothing whatsoever unless you are trying to persuade her to commit a felony on your behalf!" Franziska was positively fuming now. "How could that man leave you, vivacious, funny, kind, and loyal… For the human equivalent of a paper clip?!"

Maya choked back a horrified laugh, this time a genuine one, despite her misery.

"Hold it! I would like to strike that previous testimony from the record! A paper clip would imply she's useful for something!" Franziska was only getting warmed up now. "What is wrong with that blasted, foolish man? Did she drug him somehow? Cast some sort of voodoo love spell? I refuse to believe that any man in his right mind could forsake you, the prestigious Kurain Master, an unequivocal world-class beauty, for that weeping willow of a woman, suffering from the worst-case I have ever seen of _Backpfeifengesicht_ syndrome!"

"What the hell does that mean?" A helpless snort of laughter escaped Maya then. Franziska was just too much!

" _Backpfeifengesicht_ is a term that translates into: 'a face that makes you want to smack that person!' In Iris' case, she has a 'face that should get a slap that whistles across the cheek!' And _then_ some!"

"Franziska, I beg of you, _please_ stop!" The Master fell back on the bed then, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe. "You're gonna _kill_ me!"

"Humph! Fine, we can try to be adults about this," the hostess grumbled. "They say never feel bad if you see your ex with somebody else because it is the ultimate act of charity to give your used goods to the less fortunate…"

 _"Stop!"_ Maya howled, clutching her stomach.

"Oh come on, I find I'm rather enjoying this!" The silver eyes were dancing with laughter. " _You_ try it now! It is honestly quite _fun!"_

"OK fine! If you insist! I… I hope Nick has gets incurable erectile dysfunction, stemmed from the blandest, most boring, permanent missionary sex ever, with Iris!" Maya ventured, erupting into a fresh set of giggles.

"You are still being too kind! _I_ wish for him to reenact that scene from _There's Something About Mary_ and yank his zipper up too fast and at the wrong time!"

"I hope to bear his spiky-headed demon offspring leaves Iris with a flapping hoo-ha as loose as a caboose and his man-thing feels like the equivalent of a hot dog in a hallway!"

"That's the spirit!" Franziska joined in the merriment. "I hope whenever he tries to kiss her, he is permanently haunted by mental images of Larry instead! Or better still, images of Mr. Butz's… large, hairy butt!"

Unable to go on a moment longer, the two women fell back onto the bed, laughing so hard that tears streamed out of their eyes.

"You're the _best_ , Franziska." Maya finally sat up and beamed at her friend. "I _really_ needed that, you know."

"It _will_ get better," the other woman promised, her expression turning serious then. "Maya, believe me, I know of what I speak. At the time of great loss, your world gives way to sights and sounds of bleakness. It is as if you were walking in the street and a Mack truck ran you down, emotionally. The loved one is gone, whereas you are still here. Moreover, you ask, ‘How can that be?’ That loss will impact every part of your being. Not only can you not think straight but your activities also run on automation. To call it "walking in a daze," doesn't even begin to approach the dark clouds that amass inside your skull. There is a mental tornado there, which no one can see nor comprehend. One may "shut down" for weeks, even months."

"Check, check, affirmative, and check!" The spirit medium nodded vigorously. "That's exactly how I've been feeling all this time! I trusted Nick completely. I was lost in his lies. The only thing I got in the end, after six years of hoping, and wishing, and waiting, was cold, callous betrayal. It's slowly been seeping in how much of a fool I had been, living in my own dream world. I've floated away from the fake promises and reality until… I was just a lost star." She took a deep, shaky breath. "So how do I know when, or if, it will ever get better?"

"Because time heals _all_ wounds, Maya. Trust me on this one." The Agent met her gaze levelly. "The day will come that you will find that the loss gravitates into a new reality. You'll realize you are not the only one to have ever suffered in such a manner, and you will acknowledge that this is not the last time you will encounter great loss. By that point, all memories connected to the lost one will become bitter-sweet. You can remember all the good times, relive them, and still move on with your life. You'll discover that this horrible experience has not crushed you; rather, you have been enriched by it."

"You sound like Yoda." Maya smiled sadly. "I know there is a lot of wise intelligence behind those words… You don't become a prodigy prosecutor at age 13 by being a completely foolish fool." She playfully stuck out her tongue at Franziska. "However, in the meantime, until this wondrous day comes, what am I supposed to do?"

"You can stop beating yourself up for the way you feel, Maya, and accept the fact that it's OK to still love him. You were together for six years, and have only been apart for a couple of months." Franziska leaned over and patted her hand. "Phoenix Wright was not only your lover, but he was also your best friend, and essentially, your daughter's father. Do not be angry with yourself for being human. _Wir alle sehnen uns nach Streicheleinheiten_."

"Um, translation please?"

"It means we are _all_ in want of love and affection, which I know, in my heart of hearts, someday you will most definitely find. For now, take this time, Maya, and _get to know_ what _you_ are all about. For almost 10 years, the only world you have ever known was one that revolved around Phoenix Wright. Now you are the prestigious leader of the village and an adult. It's time for _you_ to discover _who Maya Fey_ really is, as _I_ already know who she is."  
  
"While that makes _one_ of us," the Burger Queen returned dryly. "Who _am_ I then? _You_ tell _me_ because _I_ have no earthly idea."

"You _are Maya Fey,"_ Franziska smiled encouragingly. "A grown woman who can no longer be made a victim in life. She _alone_ is in charge of her own fate, her own destiny."

Maya mulled all of this over, and slowly, but surely, for the first time in forever, she felt somewhat at peace within her heart as the weight of her friend's words sink in.

"What about _you_ , then?" She inquired. "You told me that Miles is going to be gone for six months to a year. In the meantime, what do _you_ want to do with _your_ life now?"

Franziska heaved a great sigh and dropped her eyes down towards her lap. She was immensely happy to have cheered her friend up somewhat, and have given Maya genuine heartfelt, and useful advice, on top of a few good laughs. Nevertheless, when the tables were turned, at that moment she suddenly felt like the shoemaker with no shoes. For the life of her, she could not muster a fitting answer to Maya's question.

"I do not know." She replied honestly, clenching her hands into fists and then unclenching them again over and over again. "I truly really do not know at all."

"Don't give me that! Franziska, you're a _Von Karma,_ dammit!" Maya put her hand on Franziska's shoulder and shook her gently, forcing the other woman to meet her eyes. "How do you not know what you want to do? You Von Karmas not only always know what they want to do, but they also move heaven and earth to make sure that they go out and do it, and do it better than anybody else! Should that not work, they're resourceful enough to have six or seven different but equally perfect plans to achieve said perfect goal!"

"I no longer strive for perfection, Maya." She laughed ruefully and shook her head. "Many years ago, I ceased attempting to be a cloned version of my perfectionist, victory-seeking father, because I came to the humbling realization that I was I neither perfect nor a genius. That knowledge freed me from the obsessive desire to be _anything_ like him, or what _he_ _thought_ our family name and creed stood for."

"The Von Karma creed, _to be perfect in every way_ ," Maya recalled. "This is something that is no longer of relevance to you then?"

"Not _in the least_." Franziska shook her head vehemently. "I do not like the person I was back then, when a perfect victory record was my sole _raison d'être_ , back before I realized that the prosecution path wasn't about winning but uncovering the truth. I was not alone in my self-loathing. To this day, I still remember the stinging words little Pearl said to me six years ago. ' _I don't like you. You're nothing more than a little girl without your whip'_ "

"Pearly was only a little girl at the time and didn't know what she was saying. Please don't take that to heart. She didn't mean it."

"Whether she meant it or not, she was right though." Franziska crossed her arms and tightly clutched her sleeves. "I –I no longer wish to be seen as naught more than a cruel, heartless woman who abuses others with her whip in her determined quest for perfection."

"By admitting to your previous flaws, and knowing what you _no longer want to be_ , you have already taken giant leaps towards discovering who you _do_ _want to be_ and _what_ you _want to do_ ," Maya said softly. "You _do_ realize that, don't you?"

"By eliminating the impossible, we find the possible. Is that where you're going with this?"

"It's about where _you're_ going with this, Franziska." Maya's expression was earnest. "Listen to _me_ now. You and I, we are _a lot alike_. We _both_ were born into _legacies_ that maybe we didn't necessarily want, but the _die was cast_. Nevertheless, what we need to understand is that _we_ _are still the masters of our own fates."_

"You make it sound so simple." Franziska blinked back tears. "I wish it _were_ as such, and that I could see life in the same positive light that _you_ do. Things would be so much simpler if only I could see _myself_ through those ever-optimistic eyes of yours, Maya Fey."

"Franziska Von Karma, I didn't see _any_ light at the end of the tunnel, and had a dark cloud of gloom over my head, right up until I came to see _you_ today." Maya looked her steadily the eye. " _You_ have renewed my hope in everything."

"Hope?"

"Yes, _hope_. _That's_ what keeps you alive, gives you strength, and helps you to fight through every day. What do _you_ hope for? A better tomorrow? What would you do if you realized that you'll never get that? Would you just give up?"

 _I wish I could just give up; but deep down, the last remaining flicker of light within me, my dreams, my hopes, tell me not to,_ she realized. _They help me to wake up every day. Maybe **that's** what hope is - a distant star shining in the darkest sky. Not enough to remove the darkness, just enough to make you believe there are thousand more stars somewhere and all you have to do is find that 'somewhere.' Therefore, you keep fighting, ignoring the darkness that tries to stop you._

"No." Franziska finally spoke and squared her jaw as a steely glint of determination flickered in her eyes. "Whatever happens next, I know I can't allow myself to be beaten, because that would mean bowing to what fate says would be my lot in life and accepting a path exactly like my father's. I know ultimately, _I am the master of my destiny_. I've already learned that there is help in the world for a hard worker with the right attitude."

 _"Thatta girl!"_ Maya cheered, beaming excitedly. "Whatever your talent is, you need to go out there and change the world, make this a better place to be in. However, for different reasons than your father, who tried to change the world for selfish reasons; fame, glory, power. _You_ are brave, pure of heart, and strong of spirit. We both may have inherited great responsibilities, but we also both have the power to control our own destinies and turn them into something great. But you can't achieve any of that sitting here cooped up, and in wallowing away in this mansion."

"You've made your point, Maya Fey." Franziska leaned over and pulled the spirit medium into a warm, crushing embrace for a moment, then rose from the bed and threw back her shoulders. "I'm going to go make a phone call to a certain Wolf Man now. He needs to know that I am finally ready to come back to work… But on _my_ terms, _not his_." She flashed her trademark confident grin. "After all, I _am_ a _Von Karma_!"

"A Von Karma born with the exact talents this universe needs to become further enriched because _you're_ in it." Maya flashed her a thumbs-up sign. "Use those strengths for justice, peace and a healing world, and know that I will _always_ be here, _believing_ in you, _rooting_ for you, _no matter what_."

Franziska's eyes glowed with warmth and affection as she regarded her friend, then gave her one last smile before she nodded her head and strode out of the room, once again resuming the assertive, self-assured gait Maya had always associated with the formidable German woman.

Sitting there, alone in that room, the Kurain Master reflected over everything she and her friend had discussed, and what revelations had come to light.

_Even though the dawn is still some time away, there is a light in my heart that was missing just yesterday. Right now, it is a spark of hope, a ray of sunshine yet to be born, but it is there and I feel it. Perhaps that is optimism, the anticipation of good things to come. It is a feeling I haven't had in so long that it feels as foreign as it is welcome. However, for me to embrace the brightness of my future, I must finally be ready to let go of the shadows of my past. Therefore, the time has come for me to **make** my heart go on, in order for me to keep moving forward, and never looking back, except to see how far ahead I've come. Moreover, while I will never understand **why** Nick did what he did to me, it doesn't matter anymore. Phoenix Wright, wherever you are, I wish you well, as well as a **farewell**. It's time for the next chapter of my life to begin, even if it is without you. I have at last come to accept the fact that **sometimes** , **even the greatest love has to end, so your true destiny can finally begin.**_


	100. Englishman In New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sun goes down  
> The night rolls in  
> You can feel it starting  
> All over again
> 
> The moon comes up  
> And the music calls  
> You're getting tired of  
> Staring at the same four walls
> 
> You're out of your room  
> And down on the street  
> Moving through the crowd  
> In the midnight heat
> 
> The traffic roars  
> And the sirens scream  
> You look at the faces  
> It's just like a dream
> 
> Nobody knows where you're going  
> Nobody cares where you've been
> 
> 'Cause you belong to the city  
> You belong to the night  
> Living in a river of darkness  
> Beneath the neon light
> 
> You were born in the city  
> Concrete under your feet  
> It's in your moves  
> It's in your blood  
> You're a man of the street
> 
> When you said goodbye  
> You were on the run  
> Trying to get away  
> From the things you've done
> 
> Now you're back again  
> And you're feeling strange  
> So much has happened  
> But nothing has changed
> 
> You still don't know where you're going  
> You're still just a face in the crowd
> 
> You belong to the city  
> You belong to the night  
> Living in a river of darkness  
> Beneath the neon light
> 
> You were born in the city  
> Concrete under your feet  
> It's in your blood  
> It's in your moves  
> You're a man of the street
> 
> You can feel it  
> You can taste it  
> You can see it  
> You can face it
> 
> You can hear it hey  
> You're getting near it hey  
> You wanna make it whoa  
> 'Cause you can take it whoa
> 
> You belong to the city  
> You belong to the night  
> You belong to the city  
> You belong to the night
> 
> You belong  
> You belong  
> Oh...

_**Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma**_  
 _German Country Club, Germany_ _  
_German Thanksgiving

They’d had one hell of a singles tennis game that afternoon but in the end, with the competitive pair both giving it their all, ultimately Miles had triumphed as the victor of the set and had blown his hot, sweaty, and semi-disgruntled lover a goading kiss before jogging off to the showers.

Franziska’s face was still flushed pink from exertion as she lifted the damp hair off the back of her perspiring nape and wrapped a towel around her neck. She was still panting slightly from the intense workout as she trudged towards the locker-room at the back of the club, eager to get out of her sweaty tennis skirt and top.

Suddenly, she let out a startled gasp as she felt someone grab her by the arm and drag her into the shower room just as she was about to walk past.

A warm hand clamped against her mouth before she could cry out in alarm and looking up, she saw the familiar smirk of her fiancé, wearing nothing but his tennis shorts, smirking down at her as he hauled her up against him.

For an instant, Franziska was too surprised to react. She inhaled the warm, male scent of him. It acted like a powerful drug on her senses. She could feel the strength in his arms and the sleek power in his body. She could also feel the evidence of his desire in his close-fitting shorts.

Miles wanted her. _Right there, right now_.

It looked like the tennis match had gotten him hot and bothered in more ways than one! Moreover, he certainly wasn’t alone in his naughty urges. Despite being in a communal place at that moment, Franziska felt the chorus of female hormones humming within her to burst into full-throated song.

 _“Liebling!_ What are you doing?” She protested faintly, even as her body arched against him as he deftly locked the door to the single room shower behind them.

“I’m claiming my _victory_ spoils, _meine Dame_ ,” he growled, a wicked glint in his eye. “I trust you have no … _objections?”_

She laughed then, almost a purr, and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her. His mouth was already lowering towards her, ever so slowly and despite the semi-public location of this tryst, Franziska did nothing to stop him. She gasped a little at the first touch of flesh-to-flesh and he took advantage, easing his tongue into her mouth slowly, deeply. She shuddered at the blatant carnality of it as she allowed herself to be caught in the pull of some incredible magnet, unable to draw away, unable to stop her body from responding as he tasted her.

Pressed back against the cool tiles, she was in too much in a lusty daze to notice as he did that one-hand-over-the-head thing with her shirt, then his hands wandered to her bared back, seeking access. Snapping open the clasp of her bra, he neatly discarded both items to the cool tiled floor while reaching to turn on the shower behind her. She quivered under his touch. The tightly loomed muscles of his back moved like cogs under marble, smooth skin. Everything about him screamed unapologetically blatant sensuality.

“I want you, Franziska. I want to feel you, tight and hot and wet around me.”

With his lascivious gaze, Miles tracked the motions of his hands down her sides to her hips, pulling her even more tightly against him. His eyes were dark with desire, her heated flesh becoming even more alive beneath his smoldering expression.

“I can’t control myself when I’m with you.” One finger traced the curve on her hip. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t get enough of you.” He coasted his hands up her sides and rested a finger above her collarbone, feeling her thudding heartbeat beneath his fingertip.

Her spine had dissolved, leaving her useless, so _danke Gott_ , he took over. He gently pushed her back under the rainfall of showerhead above them, the hot jets enclosing them in a thick cloud of steam while the water drenched the bare, wet skin of her body, which writhed against for his, her pulse rate thudding into overdrive.

She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin, needing an anchor.

 _“Miles,”_ she whispered into the vapor, feeling like she had entered a fevered dream. Feeling a reckless abandon she had never before experienced, knowing at any time, someone could come unexpectedly and try to use the shower and undoubtedly hear them, leaving no doubt as to what was happening behind that closed door.

Holding her steady, he pulled off her tennis shoes and socks then divested the remainder of the clothing, kissing her ears, throat, and shoulders, down to her smooth, flat stomach as he gripped her hips. The drumming of her heart in her beat loudly in her ears.

Miles kissed the side of her neck and Franziska was sure he could feel her thudding pulse. His heated mouth trailed up her throat until his face was inches from her. His lips were so tantalizingly close, yet it was as though he was waiting for her to close the gap between them. Without hesitation, she leaned in just enough to make contact.

It was all the invitation he needed.

His hands left her hips only to move to the sides of her face and pulled her in, kissing her hard, their mouths coming together and apart. They feverishly alternated top and bottom lips, unable to decide which way to kiss because everything felt so good and there was so much more they wanted to do. The air vibrated between them, the places they weren’t yet touching. Every second slowed down until all she felt was the pulse in her neck quivering so fast she needed to gasp. He waited until she was practically begging before gliding his tongue against hers. The now cold water falling from the shower, into their mouths and chilling both their tongues, made a delicious contrast to the heat of their flesh.

He broke away, kissing her one last time on that really sweet spot on her neck and stood straight, then she gasped as he cupped his hands around her bared, wet buttocks and pulled her forward so her breasts grazed his chest, making her nipples tighten into pleasurably painful buds as he then slowly, torturously, christened the tops of her trembling thighs with scorching hot kisses while sinking to his knees.

Reaching up, he slipped an expert index through her damp curls, until he found what he needed, right at the spot where _she_ craved it. She moaned as his finger rubbed through her seam, every return hitting the center of her desire with the perfect amount of pressure. Two fingers breached her body then and found a hot, steamy haven. Heat coiled tight in her belly. He was watching her, waiting for her to go over, so she held on desperately because the longer he trapped her in his intense gaze, the better the release would be.

“ _Mehr_ _, Miles. Bitte.”_ She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin, needing an anchor.

A finger soaked in her slick heat, circling the nerve-packed bud, just how she liked it and Franziska completely shattered. His palm cupping her sex and the wall at her back were the only things allowing her to remain upright.

Then his hand was gone, which left the cool wet tiles behind her. She slumped against it, her knees feeling like Jell-O.

“ _Miles_ ,” she whispered into the vapor, feeling as though she had entered a fevered dream. This was a reckless abandon she had never before experienced, knowing at any time, someone could come unexpectedly and try to use the shower, undoubtedly hear her blissful cries from a moment ago, and have _no doubt_ as to what was happening behind that closed door.

She felt his warm breath on her thighs as he nudged them apart, splaying his blunt hands over her soft skin. 

_Oh, mein Gott._ The throbbing built inexorably the closer he moved to the well of her Venus.

“I yearn to devour you, _meine Dame_. You always taste so sweet.”

As if she could deny him a single thing.

He looked up and knew, with absolute certainty, that they'd been made for each other. Because her clitoris, her wet, plump lips, were right there for him to take into his mouth.

So he did.

Mouth set to torment, he tongued her blooming folds, scooping up the intimate moisture, creating more with every luxurious sweep. Her hands found him, curving around his skull as he ran his tongue in long strokes up the length of her core. He sucked her nub in between his lips, pushing one finger, then two into her tight canal, feeling her squeeze him tight.

She was flagging, her legs weak as the steam, her body a trembling mess. Any moment now, she would be knocked off her feet...

Her inner muscles clenched and pulled at his fingers, and she was panting now. She was so close to coming, so close to breaking apart as he devoured her sex. Her legs were unsteady, and he used his free hand to hold her up.

And then her rapturous scream echoed off the granite walls and all of her muscles went loose as she found her pleasure in his mouth, with his hands on her, in her.

He licked and sucked and stroked and loved every moment of her orgasm. Before. During. Even after. And the way she looked as she came was nearly the best part of all.

Flushed and sated and perfect.

Franziska was stunned by the force of her climax. Part of her wanted to weep. Another part, a bigger part, wanted to shower Miles with _thank-yous_ for reminding her they shared an insatiable wild streak all these years later that neither had known they still possessed.

He stood, giving her a chance to catch her breath and appreciate his supple, glistening, physique. Dark hair arrowed down his chiseled abs down to his treasure trail, blazing a path she yearned to follow with her fingers, her lips, her tongue. He was such a picturesque form; all-steel flesh and such an embodiment of masculine beauty that it practically hurt to look at him. His chest was heaving as he gazed at her.

“You’re delicious, _meine Dame_. And when you come again, I want to be inside you.”

 _“_ _Miles Edgeworth_!” She whimpered. “I _need_ you! _Now_ _!”_

In one swift movement, he shucked off his shorts and lifted her off the floor with little effort, apparent in his raw, masculine strength, sucking the delicate juncture where her neck met her shoulder.

Then he dawdled.

Teased and rubbed.

Drove her mad with anticipation.

Only when she begged again did he enter her slowly, in one consuming thrust. Their united groans reverberated against the tile.

Such _loud_ , satisfying sounds.

Panic about how public this was warred with bone-melting desire.

“ _Liebling_ , someone might come.”

“I _guarantee_ it.” He stroked her long and deep, massaging her swollen clit with every return of his thick, sleek length.

“I mean —”

His mouth fitted over hers, cutting off her words. A fiery, demanding kiss, as he took her higher. She pressed her forehead to his, her breath on his face as he stared into her contorted features while they moved in perfect synchronized rhythm until Franziska’s back arched and her body tensed, digging her nails deeply into his shoulders as she went over the edge. Her sweet release triggered his own and then he was gone, off into the careening nowhere. He lived for seconds in that soaring, agonizing perfection. It was this, only this, he was lost to himself, he was no one, he was obliterated, there was no Miles Edgeworth at all, there was only…

“Franziska!” He heard himself gasp in ecstasy as he fell into a euphoric bliss, completely, lost, unmade.

 _“Mein Gott,_ Miles!”

“ _Franziska!”_ He heard himself gasp in ecstasy as he fell into a euphoric bliss, completely, lost, unmade.

“ _Oh, Miles, Miles, Miles_ _…_ ”

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Ty Warner Penthouse Suite, Four Seasons Hotel, New York City  
_ November 11, 2025, 12:00 PM

“Miles?”

Frustrated, Miles slammed down the receiver in his bedroom back into the cradle and raked an agitated hand through his jet-black hair.

“Miles?”

There it was again. A soft, sweet, feminine voice calling out his name.

_No! It couldn’t be real!_

There was no way he’d actually heard that sound, no way it was the one which had been consuming his thoughts every day and night for over the past six months, or his mind at that moment, while he’d been recalling a previous steamy Thanksgiving when Franziska Von Karma had given him a lot to be thankful for!

Despite laying upon on a California King bed bearing Thai silk sheets in the $50,000 a night room (Miles had picked up the tab himself because he could _only_ have the best!), he hadn’t slept a damn wink for the past three nights he’d been there.

His mind was playing tricks on him. There _couldn’t_ be anybody calling his name. It couldn’t be her! In his sleep-deprived state, he was surely hearing things! Obviously, he was so starved to hear his lover’s sirenic cadence that was overthrowing his every slumbering and waking thought.

_Goddammit, I am just not destined to hear my fiancée’s voice except for in my torturous memories and dreams! Bloody hell! Where **is** she?! Why can’t I ever reach her? Not via email, nor text and I keep getting the blasted voicemail on both the manor and her mobile every single time!_

_“Miles?_ Where are you?”

Lana stepped out of the lift. The 4,300 square-foot space occupied the entire 52nd floor of the building and had a private elevator that led guests directly to its stunning rooms and as she stepped off the private elevator, it led her into the lounge area of her colleague’s enormous suite.

Despite having seen the luxe accommodations several times, over the past few days – her own, much more modestly priced room, readily paid for by Interpol, was a few floors down within the hotel – the brunette couldn’t help but marvel at the splendor of her cohort’s accommodations.

Each detail — from the soft calfskin leather walls that lined the dressing room to the Chinese onyx stones that made up the bathroom — was created by international artisans. The living room featured high cathedral ceilings, diamond skylights, and a Bösendorfer grand piano, the restroom came with an infinity tub, a rain shower, and the sinks were comprised of semiprecious tiger’s-eye stone. The suite also included a 24-hour butler, Rolls-Royce chauffeur, personal trainer, art concierge, and a Zen room, equipped with a soothing waterfall, as well as a spa room for massages.

It was inside the 600-square-foot master bedroom where the Interpol Agent, at last, spotted the pensive looking “Maximillian Banks,” who was staring sightlessly out the breathtaking 360-degree aerie view of Manhattan and Central Park, visible from any of the suite’s wall-to-wall windows.

_New York is such a remarkable city. Despite the countless times I have been here to the City that Never Sleeps, I still revel in the jungle of vast, extraordinary buildings that pierce the sky,_

In his listless state, he remained completely aware of his ex’s presence in the doorway.

_The mobbed streets bear an atmosphere that is like a young child on a shopping spree in a candy store, filled with taxicabs and cars going back and forth in numerous directions, with the scent of exhaust surfing through the air. The roads aren’t much more crowded than the permanently congested sidewalks, with people desperate to shop in the famous stores in which celebrities dwell. The voices of the never-ending attractions call out and envelop you in their awe, and although your feet swelter from the continuous walking, you find yourself pressing on with the yearning to discover the 'New York Experience'. I can see why so many get lost in their love for The Big Apple. I feel rather **lost** myself as well …albeit for much more complex reasons…_

“Earth to Max!”

It appeared he wasn’t hallucinating after all.

He jolted at the sound. At last, she had gotten his attention.

Miles distractedly turned away from the window and stared blankly at his undercover partner in her Debbie Dallas mode as though he’d never seen her before. Carlos and Jilly had supplied them for the week with the appropriate attire, corresponding to the alter ego roles they were playing. In her skinny, black leather pants, fitted, cropped black motorcycle jacket, sleeveless white turtleneck sweater, and black and white stiletto ankle boots, Lana Skye was the picture-perfect definition of New York urban stylishness. A large pair of Jackie Onassis sunglasses, with an accompanying posh white handbag, completed her look.

“Is that a Louis Vuitton handbag?” He noted idly. “Franziska has one just like it, but in black. However, I dare say you’re wearing enough atramentous apparel already. Perpetual mourning chic at its finest.”

“No kidding.” Lana grimaced. “What _is_ it with these Manhattan folks stubbornly insisting that it’s fashionable to walk around looking like a funeral undertaker all-year-round?”

“Regardless, I’d say you are most adequately dressed for the occasion, Ms. Dallas,” Miles smirked. “Veterans Day marks a very somber historical day. Furthermore, I reckoned you would be exultant that the cooler autumn temperatures of The City dictate that Debbie Dallas no longer needs to wear that skimpy garb that you so loathe. Accordingly, this is the most covered up I’ve seen you in ages, and forby shall boldly declare that you finally resemble a true _lady.”_

“You mean as opposed to all those other times – when I was forced to look like a _tramp?”_ She shot back with a mock scowl at his artless aperçu. “It’s nice to see that you’ve got such a keen eye for women’s fashion and ergo are at least on the ball in _that_ sense since I’ve been calling your name for the last little while and you didn’t seem to hear me – it was like you were in another world!”

Miles cleared his throat and adjusted his double-breasted leather coat. His own idoneous Manhattan trendsetter ensemble, according to his stylist, was what the fashionable males were all about: a velvet black blazer, grey turtleneck shirt, black wool pants, and a pair of brogues. Naturally, though, the prosecutor would’ve been more comfortable in a suit.

“My apologies, Lana,” he replied gruffly. “I profess my concentrations are a trifle muzzy, as I’ve tried round-the-clock to get a hold of Franziska since we arrived here earlier this week, to no avail whatsoever. I’m starting to feel a bit perturbed.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been thus unsuccessful in your endeavors to reach her, especially since I know neither of us has gotten a chance to contact anybody this past half-year!” Lana regarded him with sympathetic teal eyes. “The one or two emails I did shoot Ema in the past were in between traipsing to the half-dozen countries we’ve been shuffled off to, like doomed cattle! Has at least Franziska replied to any of your previous emails?”

“Unfortunately, not.” Miles frowned. “The last time I was able to send her any correspondence was back when you messaged Ema when we were traveling from Verdunia to Santa Clara in the summertime. I remember it was one of the few times we were in between locations, while on this helter-skelter wild goose chase that dastardly Ku has been sending us on! If my fiancée has since changed her email address or phone number, I have no way of knowing, it would have been whilst we moiled for this cockamamie, accursed operation!”

“I know how you feel. It’s not like I can just pick up the phone and call Jake in prison, after all!” She commiserated with a gusty sigh. “Being cut off from our loved ones during this undercover has been the worst part! It’s as frustrating as hell!”

“I know you can relate. Nevertheless, I would have thought she would’ve at least left me a message, if nothing else, with our butler Hendricks back in Los Angeles, or even with the housekeeper at the Germany estate! However, the _one_ time I managed to get through, Helga just stated that _die Mätresse_ wasn’t there and she didn’t know when she’d be back. It’s been nothing but the answering machine whenever I’ve called ever since.”

“Well, if she’s leaving the house, it means she’s not cooped up and wallowing anymore,” Lana ventured optimistically. “That’s surely a good sign, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.” Miles shook his head, as though trying to clear it. “After our meeting today, maybe I’ll try calling her sister, to see if she knows about Franziska’s whereabouts. It’s not like her to up and vanish like this. I hope I am perturbing about nothing. After all, I _did_ presage her that she and I may be unable to have _any_ contact this time around. Nonetheless, it is so peculiar that I can’t reach her on either the house line, her private line, or her cell phone.”

“I think giving Katharina a call after we go and… _have salad_ is a great idea.” Lana smiled and inclined her head. “Shall we get going? We need to leave now if we’re going to get there in time. New York roads are gridlock at all hours, and while this swanky suite entails complementary Rolls-Royce chauffeuring, I think it will be faster if we walk, as it’s close by.”

“Agreed. Showing up midday at a metropolis café in a luxury vehicle would be exactly the sort of incongruous attention you and I don’t need whatsoever,” Miles nodded agreement and reached for his aviator sunglasses. “Are you quite certain you’re going to be able to walk in those precarious heels?”

“Believe you me, Mr. Banks, if Carrie Bradshaw could traipse all over Manhattan in stilettos on _Sex and The City_ , then so can I!” Lana winked jauntily. “Don’t let the spike heels fool you – it’s as the song says: these boots were made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do!”

“Then as long as they don’t walk all over me one of these days, I rest assured in your promenade capabilities then.”

As Lana and Miles continued on their journey, they were passed by the ongoing melee of pedestrians talking on their cell phones and drinking Starbucks while enjoying the city. The constant commotion of conversing voices raged up and down the streets as someone called for a fast taxi. A mixed sound of various music styles all banded together to form one wild tune. Despite the time, the hustle and bustle never came to a halt. There was a reason it was referred to as the City that Never Sleeps.

While accustomed to the quirky eccentricities of the city, Miles still couldn’t help but shake his head at the beyond ridiculous names of the coffee shops they passed on the way to their arcane meeting.

_Perkatory?! Bean Me Up, Scottie? Sacred Grounds? What kind of people would go to such places? Does this entire city have nothing for tea connoisseurs such as myself? Wait – **Tea’se Me,** tea emporium?! Ngh! No, thank you!_

New York was so different from his accustomed Los Angeles. While both cities had a vast, intricate, labyrinth of noisy, streets and alleys, the smells of The City were alien to Miles and that day, the chaotic fragrance set him on edge. Unlike LA, there was no tinge of earthy loam to the air, no fragrance of vegetative growth or heady warning when rain was due. The fumes from belching vehicles underpinned everything, but punching right out of it would be the spicy offerings of the street vendors, coming sharply into focus like a camera zoom and then ebbing away again; only to be replaced by the next vendor and the next.

The various mouth-watering aromas of the many restaurants passed through his nostrils, making him nearly crave the “street meat” from one of the numerous vendors of the NY Hot Dog, calling out to passers-by but then decided to pass.

“Considering how last night’s operation was a complete bust, I’m surprised you’re still able to be so chipper, Ms. Dallas,” Miles grumbled as he and Lana neared the café. “You know that I know that you know that I know that this trip has been nothing but a complete waste of our time!”

“Easy there, Groucho!” Lana’s beautifully made-up eyes twinkled with laughter. “You and I have been one another’s sole companion for over the last six months, so I’m happy to let you vent if needed about how frustrating this operation has been, but _one_ of us has to try to be positive right? I know we haven’t had any luck so far with any of the people or locations that Ku has been directing us to, but I’m still doing my best, regardless, to stay optimistic, and _you_ should too. Have faith in Interpol!”

“Well fine, you can play the Pollyanna but I don’t care _what_ you say, Lana.” Miles scowled at his coworker and folded his arms across his chest, already impatiently tapping his famous forefinger against his arm as he trotted on. “I am starting to despair that it is just not in our destiny to ever find this bloody canting kingpin who keeps eluding us!”

“ _Ku_ was the one who gave us the leads, not me,” she reminded him. “ _I’m_ just as much the dark as you, and I’m riding on the same shilly-shallied crazy train as _you_ are!”

“I believe this is the place,” Miles murmured, squizzing at the sign of the quaint little coffee shop before them. “ _Brewed Awakening_?”

“No, this isn’t it.” She shook her head. “Although I _do_ remember it started with a _B_.” She glanced across the street. “There it is! And that must be _salad bar boy_ sitting in the window seat of _Bean There, Drank That.”_

“Who the devil names these places?” Miles let out a soft groan as they crossed the street. “I truly hope this tête-à-tête at least goes better than the events of other night.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be up to experience that sort of _Deja Brew?”_ Lana quipped, then shrank back against his disapproving glare. “Sorry! Sweet scuppering salamanders, Max, quit being such a grump! Let’s get some coffee into your system to perk you up, ASAP! I’m _thisclose_ to injecting it into your veins!”

“ _Très_ _drôle_. Better make yours a decaf, funny lady,” he muttered darkly as he held open the door to usher his friend inside. “I am uncertain if I can handle such rapier wit should you be augmenting it with the additional pep of a caffeinated beverage!”

Lana’s tinkling laughter matched the sound of the bells chiming on the door as they walked into the café.

* * *

 _Damien Cain_  
November 11, 2025

Damien Cain eyed the weapon with bleak black eyes, those of a hunter framed in the passionless face of an executioner. His blunt hands were steady as they lifted the gun and tried a dry shot at an imaginary target. He nodded to himself. He was ready. Carefully, he laid the rifle down on the mattress, which covered the floor of his firing point, and looked out through the hole in the brickwork to the narrow canyon of the street below.

Damien Cain was not his real name. His black, greasy hair was fake, as were his glasses, mustache, and uneven teeth. He looked fifty years old, but he was actually closer to thirty. Nobody knew his true appearance any more than the man's real name, but in the business that he was in, a name was the last thing he could afford. He was known merely as "The Gentleman," and he was one of the highest-paid and most successful contract killers in the world. He had been given his nickname because he always sent flowers to the family of his victims.

Despite that fact, he maintained a cool detachment to his targets. Mostly he preferred not to think of them, but when he did, it was as if they were already dead - walking meat bags waiting to be dispatched to the butcher. He preferred to think of them as meeting their destiny, and he was merely the conduit. Everyone had to die sometime, and he considered it a good way to go. No illness, no drawn-out goodbyes. They were just happy and oblivious one second and gone the next.

Simple. Convenient. Painless.

He cycled through the jobs he'd been offered in the last week, killing the boredom by selecting his next employer. There was more than money to consider. The city was important; if there was a favorite girl of his there, the job was as good as taken. He recalled this offer for New York and smiled. The Big Apple meant time with Lissianna.

His smile had barely set on his weathered skin when the mark appeared.

He assumed the position, the crosshairs locked onto the position on the sidewalk. Cursing, he shifted slightly and moved into the prone stance again, his sharp, unwavering eyes fixated on the target. Nothing. He flicked to his infrared. He saw ten possible targets down below; then a man walked towards the small coffee bar. However, he couldn't tell what gender or who it was. With infrared, he could only tell the difference between a cow to a human to a chicken. Cursing, he flicked back to his regular scope _. Now_ he could clearly see the target on the busy street below, but now _everyone and their dog_ seemed to be determined to get in his way, milling ant-like on the grey concrete.

_Shit!_

He slowly, carefully, slid into a better stance.

_Goddammit!_

Yet _another_ figure was standing in front of the mark now, and blocking his shot! If he assassinated the wrong target, he would be promptly fired.

He couldn’t afford to make such a mistake. He only had one chance, and he couldn’t afford to fuck it up. He’d need to wait for another opportunity to later arise, but that was fine.

He could wait.

The target would have to come out again, _eventually_ , and when they did, Cain would be waiting. _Patiently_. It was par for the course, and it was why he the best in his field.

People had no idea about the grim reality of his job other than what they had seen in the movies – the sniper in the prone position, ready to fire. They didn’t realize the stealth, the precision, the _arduous predatory waiting for the prey_ that was also entailed.

He had been set in place for nearly an hour and his neck muscles were fit to spasm. It felt like his elbow had melded to the damp blacktop roof and at times, he always wondered if his legs wouldn’t work when it was time to pack up and ship out. Once the target was down, he was going to have to haul ass to get out before the place was swarming with cops. While on paper, the job sounded exciting, the reality was hours of tedium and pain, followed by an adrenaline-filled escape that lasted all of ten minutes or less.

He smiled cruelly but it refused to reach his bloodshot eyes.

_It’s all still **completely** worth it._

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Bean There, Drank That, New York City  
_ November 11, 2025, 1:00 PM

Despite spending the last half hour in his company, Miles still had no idea what to make of the undercover Interpol Agent sitting at the coffee shop table across from him and Lana.

Here was a man that was every bit as no-nonsense and badass as Detective Badd and Agent Lang combined!

To the prosecutor, it seemed as though Romein LeTouse was the kind of Agent who'd been born in a suit. He had never been a baby or an infant; he’d come out readily into the world as a serious man, with a serious gun, who had rolled off the Borginian assembly line.

LeTouse had the standard issued broad, squared shoulders and prerequisite athletic build required of Interpol Agents. His features bore the ubiquitous number of strong dominant surfaces of Slavic men: a commanding bone structure, heavy brows, a nose that appeared to end in a blunt plane rather than a point. His was a harsh, long-boned face, tapering to a squared chin, with widely dark spaced eyes with a slight drop of the left eyelid. The most telling features were his ears, slightly swollen and disfigured ears to convey the large man had seen his share of fights during his life.

The Northern European Agent had a neatly trimmed brown beard and mustache and spoke with a baritone voice and clipped legalistic words. Life had no color for him, no shades of grey either; it was all black/white right/wrong legal/illegal. When he wasn't preparing perfect paperwork, he was chasing down criminals with that action-man run of his. Lang had revealed that the man clocked more hours than any of the rest of the Borginian Agents. He was the perfect Interpol Agent, but the barrister was still guarded around him.

_It’s not that I think he is a bad person or anything. Lang trusts him, therefore I should too. However, it’s not so easy for me. I just didn't trust anyone without a visible weakness. It makes me wonder if it’s all a facade over something less stable, less honorable..._

“Just to clarify the matter,” Miles spoke now. “ _You’ve_ been reconnoitering the very same…” he cast brief gander about to ensure no other ears could make out their conversation.” … _Affairs_ that _we’ve_ been probing into from your homeland of Borginia all this time?”

The reticent European nodded. He was a man of few words, clearly, the strong silent type, which Miles generally respected yet there was still something about the man that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that made it nigh impossible to feel fully comfortable around him.

Of course, there was a very high possibility that Miles Edgeworth simply had a difficult time dealing with another alpha male in his general presence, which would certainly explain his previous history of butting heads with Agent Lang at first! After all, who was more dominant than the Wolf Manhimself?

“It all makes complete make sense, _Max_ ,” Lana broke in, shooting her partner a pointed look to remind him that while the noisy crowded atmosphere of the coffee shop would have made it very difficult for any planted bugs to overhear anything of relevance, they were indeed still in a public place. “After all, the coveted items are being imported from _his_ home country.”

The Agent nodded again. His phizog was stern, even a little melancholy, in repose, which was transfigured when he smiled, even though the gesture aimed at the brunette was supposedly intended to be friendly.

“I can appreciate that, Debbie.” Miles gave a strained smile of his own. “I would just like to ascertain the reason that _we_ , the two key leads amidst all this rigamarole, had not been made privy aware of the Borginian involvement up until now.”

“The answer to that is simple, Mr. Banks.” LeTouse maintained the same steady but slightly ironic gaze he seemed to have reserved especially for Miles. “I am a local Agent. Ms. Dallas is not. Moreover, _you_ are not even an official Agent of _any_ magnitude. Therefore, this information was classified due to compartmentalization.”

“Fine,” Miles replied stiffly and clutched his nearly empty teacup. “So precisely what are you proposing then and why did you request to see Ms. Dallas and I then?” 

“First, I want to hear about all your given leads and where you have been these past six months so we can all compare notes. I figured it was best to do it in person. I do not trust phones,” LeTouse answered, his fingers held straight, as if their aerodynamic form could conceivably make a difference. “Secondly, I want to give the two of you advance notice to figure out amongst yourselves which one will be my asset on the ground in Europe and who will be my ground asset in the States. If we are going to proceed with my operations plan, I will need someone in both countries. Today’s meeting is because Lang assured me the two of you are the best assets our organization has who also happen to know the preliminaries of the case.”

“Lang is going to let us decide amongst ourselves?” Lana gestured to herself and Miles. “It’s _our_ call?”

“Correct,” LeTouse affirmed. “Now, if _I_ had to choose for you two, ultimately I would select _Mr. Banks_ to go to the States because he has better connections and contacts there. Ultimately, though, the choice is yours entirely. The next course of action is that I am to become the manager, bodyguard and interpreter for the vocalist Lamiroir when her worldwide tour starts next month and will be accompanying her to the USA next summer. My American ground asset, of course, will have to be stationed there a few months prior, to assure everything is in proper order for my arrival with The Siren of the Ballad.”

“I’m puzzled about this latest update.” Lana furrowed her brow in confusion. “What on earth does some international singer diva have to do with this operation?”

“I’m afraid that is classified information as of right now,” LeTouse replied firmly. “However, I would very much like to hear what the two of you have been up to in the meantime, especially pertaining to your actions here in New York.”

“Before we commence, might we take a quick repose?” Lana asked quickly. “I just need to use the ladies' room and I’ll be right back.”

“No problem.” LeTouse rose from his chair, an imposing 6’3” tower of muscle. “I will take this opportunity to excuse myself as well. Mr. Banks, I will be back shortly.”

Miles nodded absently, already reaching into his breast pocket for his cell phone, planning to use this impromptu break to call Katharina. However, he would need to go outside, as the noisy din of the café made it nigh impossible to even hear _himself think_ , never mind catch a word of the person next to him! He supposed was the sole reason the Agent had selected the nondescript venue in the first place.

He headed out the door, shooting Lana a quick text that he would be back momentarily. Once outside, he then paced the front entrance area like a caged panther while he anxiously awaited to see if his older future sister-in-law would answer. He was utterly engrossed with the phone call, while simultaneously focusing on keeping one eye cast towards the coffee shop window to see if Lana and the Agent had returned to the table yet.

The preoccupied Miles Edgeworth never thought twice about the fact that his back was turned to the busy, noisy street behind him.

* * *

 ** _Damien Cain  
_** November 11, 2025

To the assassin, it was just like another day in the office. Except his office was presently a windy rooftop, overlooking his target's location on the street down below. His tools, rather than a computer, were a state-of-the-art rifle with a telescopic lens. On the point of firing, he remembered the ruddy great big silencer - a rookery mistake. He unscrewed it and re-aimed. There was no need for a silencer, the noise would be lost in the droning of the traffic below and most likely mistaken for a backfiring van. He checked the wind speed and the distance and adjusted accordingly. He aimed with no more qualms than one would gossip about a colleague. There was a slight thud as he turned the safety off, and then squeezed the trigger, all while thinking of the coffee he would order at Starbucks afterward and his mind refocusing on Lissianna.

The mark, who up until then had had his back towards Cain, suddenly turned around and faced the street, his expression unreadable from the distance, as he appeared to be looking at the phone in his hand.

The assassin took his aim and fired.

The bullet spat out of his rifle. It hit the man squarely in the chest, propelling him backward in an awkward cartwheel. The man fell back onto the pavement. For a few seconds, he appeared to be looking up at the sky, as if trying to admire it one last time, right before the black waves folded over him.

Damien Cain took his time packing his equipment into an inconspicuous rucksack.

The sniper took no satisfaction in the killing, but he took enormous pride in getting a good clean kill. He had a reputation to maintain and that reputation guaranteed his exorbitant fee.

_One-shot. One kill._

* * *

**_Detective Tyrell Badd  
_** November 11, 2025

Earlier in time, during his younger police days, Tyrell Badd had been partaking in surveillance and was hidden high up in a tree, waiting motionlessly for the culprits to wander into the forest clearing where he was stationed nearby. However, at one point, the big man had lost his footing as a branch snapped beneath his burly weight, and the Detective had fallen a dozen feet to the ground, landing with a heavy thud on his back. Miraculously, he had broken neither his spine nor any limbs in the fall, but the impact had still knocked every wisp of air from his lungs, and he’d lain there in shock at what had just happened, completely supine on the ground, struggling to inhale, to exhale, and to do anything.

That was how Badd felt now, trying to remember how to breathe, how to speak, for that was how gobsmacked he was as the name uttered to him on the other end of the line ricocheted around inside his skull. His mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the conveyed information. It had been delivered as such a shocking blow that it had caught him rather low, making him nearly short of breath and unable to respire. He sat rigidly in his chair, as paralyzed as an actual winded man, and drew upon all his will to prevent himself from gasping.

Through his parted lips, he drew a tiny controlled gasp.

“ _What the hell do you mean_ , **_he’s dead?!”_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glenn Frey - You Belong To The City (chapter quote)  
> Sting - Englishman In New York (chapter title)


	101. Another One Bites The Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As I said before, next week we are back to Phoenix… very important for my readers… To minimize confusion (although I am always happy to answer/clarify!) from this chapter onward, please take heed to the date and times, because there will be a lot of time and date jumping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it."

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Huxi Manor, Borginia  
_ November 2, 2025, 7:30 PM

Say what you wanted about Wa Sing Ku, but the man sure knew how to throw one _hell_ of a party!

Lana was still as impressed by the luxurious estate as she had been the first time she'd seen it. It'd been so long since her last visit that she'd nearly forgotten the splendor and magnificence of the mansion. After all, the previous two times she'd been there, she'd been first _drunk off her ass_ , and then high on _angel dust!_

When Debbie Dallas and Maximilian Banks had been invited to what was now the residence of both Wa Sing Ku and Wong Li Tsong, for the couple's engagement party, the two had been uncertain what to expect. However, neither had anticipated much more than a small, intimate gathering, comprising of the standard rubbing elbows, inane polite conversation, canapés that would be more pleasing to the eye than the palate, (like caviar and pâté), and copious amounts champagne, which Lana knew from the last time would consequentially leave her with the mother of all hangovers the morning after.

Both Lana and Miles had been pleasantly surprised to discover their assumptions had been incorrect, and that Ku had spared no expense to ensure his engagement soiree included delicious food far beyond customary, undersized, and tasteless hors d'oeuvres. The guests were privy to feast on sublime Oysters with Bacon Mignonette, Roast Beef Tenderloin with Cognac Butter, Carrot Mash with Crème Fraîche, and Shredded Brussels Sprouts with Slow-Fried Shallots, finished off with superb Champagne Gelatin with Peaches and Plums for dessert. The servers, all young male model types, were immaculately dressed in white dinner jackets, moving wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full.

After dinner, the shindig moved over to the recreation room. A dance floor and bar, complete with a bartender, had been set up. However, Miles was in hardcore, stick up the ass, undercover mode. He refused to make himself look undignified by "thrashing alongside these drunken fools while looking like I'm having some sort of seizure!"

Ergo, yet _again_ , Lana had had to take one for the team, and agree to dance with the ever overly eager Ku when he had dragged her to the dance floor, insisting that as the "host with the most" it was his _duty_ "to dance with his most beautiful guests."

Under Li's hawk-eye, the brunette had endured an agonizing hour of trying to appear as if she was enjoying shimmying and shaking her moneymaker. At the same time, she also had to simultaneously, but not too obviously, fend off the nearly married, _but nowhere near_ _tamed_ drug lord's salacious advances, which he tried to disguise _as dance moves_.

Miles had been amiably chatting and mingling in the meantime and had merely shrugged helplessly upon seeing the look of desperation in the Agent's eyes. She glowered at him and mouthed: _"You owe me big time!"_

Finally, unable to withstand another deplorable moment of the obscene Asian man's clammy paws "grazing" her bottom, while trying to grip her hips, Lana had at last excused herself, insisting she needed to rest her aching, stilettoed feet and had made a beeline to the bartender.

The bombshell leaned on the bar, her long russet hair tossed over one shoulder of her crystal-beaded, crimson mini dress. She lolled her head to one side, plumping her red pout ever so slightly. She wasn't at all drunk, but as part of her bimbo façade, needed to give the impression that she was. After all, in the presence of a harmless, drunken party girl in their midst, people tended to let their guard down and be more loose-lipped.

The young mixologist was there to take her order in a flash, eyes dropping immediately to her low-cut neckline. She twiddled her hair in a seemingly absentminded way and giggled girlishly before ordering a Dirty Martini, glad that she'd practiced drinking sexily from a stemmed glass filled with just water back at her hotel in front of the mirror. While she awaited her drink, she cast a smoky-eyed glance around the room. Over in the corner, she spotted Miles chatting with the newly engaged couple, Ku having finally disentangled himself from bumping and grinding with his latest unsuspecting female guest to rejoin his betrothed's side.

The undercover Debbie Dallas knew she had to go join them, and steeled herself for another uncomfortable round of lascivious leers, and "accidentally on purpose" pawing. Enough was enough! Hell, she had done her time! There was only so much degradation she could withstand in the name of undercover duty, and if her host could not make himself act like a respectable, almost married man around his female guests, even in the presence of his fiancée, then he could bloody well find himself another target! In a flash of inspiration, Lana decided her best bet was to act as though she was too unsteady on her feet to withstand another round of being spun around – aka molested – on the dance floor!

She awarded the bartender with an appreciative grin as she grabbed her glass. She then feigned a rather convincing drunken wobble while staggering over to the trio and sidling over to Miles' side.

The good news was that Ku appeared to be in high and amiable spirits, and hopefully, had _consumed enough spirits,_ to give them the information they needed, so they could finally get the hell out of there. She hated the way the kingpin ogled at her whenever they were around him, and it bothered her even more than Li's presence that night had done nothing to quell his former bachelor habits.

As she joined them, Lana ensured she made a big show of needing support by slightly stumbling, then grabbing onto Miles' arm and leaning her hip against his side, while smiling congenially at both Ku and Li. With a knowing smirk, Miles agreeably wrapped a welcoming arm around her shoulder and graciously inclined his head towards her, all the while maintaining a steady stream of conversation with the duo.

The future groom-to-be was as impeccably groomed as ever, dressed to the nines in a custom-tailored, designer black suit, which rivaled even the one Miles was wearing that night. The bride-to-be was looking as pretty as a picture in a strapless, floor-length, coral mermaid gown, her beautiful black hair, curled for the occasion, flowing down to her waist in inky waves.

"So how are you doing, _lovebirds_?" Lana trilled. "Congratulations again! When is the big day?"

"Couldn't be soon enough!" Ku chortled loudly and squeezed his fiancée around her slender shoulders. Li appeared to stiffen slightly at the gesture but did not turn away from the embrace. "This stallion cannot wait to saddle up his mare and create a whole new stable of fillies!"

There was an uncomfortable silence following the audacious statement. Even Miles, the logic chess master of words for every occasion, was rendered speechless.

_What the **hell** did he just say?!_

Lana stared at the drug lord incredulously. Surely, Ku had to be as drunk as a skunk or high as a kite to be speaking of the woman he was to marry in such a crude manner, and right in front of her, no less! The Agent then cast a stealthy glimpse at the Asian beauty to assess her reaction.

Upon hearing the unseemly statement, Li, whose pink, embarrassed face now matched her dress, gave a strained smile, although she made no reply to her fiancé's abominably crude response. Then, as though sensing Lana's observant eye, she forced her full lips into a bigger, more convincing, grin in her direction. The Interpol Agent readily returned the gesture, however internally, her former detective's mind was already pondering if genuine happiness applied to both halves of this particular union.

_Perhaps 'smile' isn't the right word for it – the top row of teeth are showing, and there's a faint curve to the lips, but there's no crease below those eyes, no movement of the cheeks. On anyone else, it would be a **grimace** , at best. Nevertheless, Li's always been your stereotypically stoic Asian! Perhaps on **her** visage, this **is** an actual sign of bliss?!_

"My fiancé has quite a sense of humor," Li finally murmured, beaming even more brightly as Ku chortled loudly at the reply, and barely flinched as he gave her a hearty slap on the backside. "In answer to your question, Ms. Dallas, we are thinking of a small, intimate ceremony, sometime during the holidays, over in Hong Kong, where both of our families reside."

" _I_ wanted to get married right here in Borginia, alongside all of my dearest friends and associates, with a splashy affair that would rival even Prince William's!" Ku declared, planting a big, juicy kiss on his fiancée's cheek, oblivious to her discretely dabbing the wet mark on her face afterward. "But the future Mrs. Ku here is a traditional girl, of good, old-fashioned, Chinese values, and insists on our families being present."

Lana studied Li's reaction, wondering if the demure, reserved Asian was at all discomfited by her fiancé's overly effusive disposition, or if she had merely imagined her adverse reaction earlier. At the moment, though, the other woman's face was benignly placid as she nodded her agreement.

"The wedding is still over a month away, so until then, _I_ am still open for business, however you see fit, Mr. Banks." As usual, Ku was about as subtle as a Mack truck. "In the meantime, I do hope the two of you enjoy your visit to the Big Apple next week."

" _New York?"_ Lana looked at Miles in wonder. It seemed Max Banks had gotten the information they were seeking after all! Perhaps suffering the Chinese lecher's groping attempts this time around had not completely been for naught!

"Look at that, Ku, you spoiled my surprise!" Miles chuckled ruefully and shook his head at the couple. "I have not had a chance to tell Debbie here that I was going to whisk her away to The City whilst paying _your friend_ a visit!" At that moment, the music changed to the melancholic, yet haunting tune, "Again," and several couples were milling to the dance floor, already.

* * *

**_A sacred gift of heaven_ ** **  
_For better worse, wherever_   
_And I would never let somebody break you down_   
_Until you cried, never_ **

* * *

"Apologies, Mr. Banks, Ms. Dallas, for letting the cat out of the bag so soon!" Ku apologized blithely, already reaching out to grab Lana by the arm. "My associate will be most agreeable to help you out, seeing as how he could use the extra money to finance his upcoming nuptials, not to mention that surely splashy bachelor party he will be having!"

The future groom turned to Lana with his customary leer.

"This is a wonderful song, Ms. Dallas. Would you do me the honors?"

Lana's eyes widened in alarm. Bad enough to endure the horny Asian's attempted wandering hands during the _fast tracks_ , but the idea of him using the ballad as an excuse to clasp her body close to his, while slithering his palms up and down her form, made her feel slightly queasy.

* * *

**_All of my life_ ** **  
_Where have you been_   
_I wonder if I'll ever see you again_   
_And if that day comes_   
_I know we could win_   
_I wonder if I'll ever see you again_ **

* * *

"Oh but this is such a sweet, romantic song," she interjected and smiled hopefully at the impassive Li. "I'm sure your beautiful fiancée wouldn't mind being taken for a spin on the dance floor in my stead."

"It is no bother to me, Ms. Dallas," the Asian woman demurred, bowing her head slightly in submission. "I'm afraid I must excuse myself now, as I'm neglecting my hostess duties. Enjoy the rest of the party."

And off she went, taking Lana's one viable excuse to refuse with her!

Miles didn't need the urging of his partner's fingernails digging into his arm this time around to get the hint.

"As flattered as I am that you find dancing with my companion so delightful, I must _insist_ that _I_ be Debbie's dance partner for this most profoundly meaningful song." The smile never left Miles' face as he spoke to Ku. "If you'll excuse us, please."

Then, not even allowing the host to reply, Miles proceeded to take Lana by the hand as they joined the throng of swaying couples on the floor, one strong arm around her waist, while the other held her hand. She seized the opportunity to appear to be nuzzling his ear, even as she whispered furiously into it.

"Thanks for saving me _this_ time, Max!" She hissed. "Why couldn't you have done that the rest of this evening, when I was held captive in Ku's clasp, as a true and proper gentleman would've done?! And if you dare say it's because I am no lady, you are getting a boot to the head, Buster!"

"Calm yourself, Debbie." Miles tightened his grip on her and appeared to be burying his face in her hair as he murmured his response. "There were a couple of determining factors in my opting not to cut in like some sort of macho, insecure lover; first, because I had to keep an ear to the ground, and second because I know that you are big girl, who can take care of herself."

"Humph!" Lana sniffed, although partially mollified now. She never could stay angry with the blasted man! Miles Edgeworth had always had a way with words!

"Surely any woman that undoubtedly could make good on her threat to give me a boot to the head would have no qualms about a strategically placed, knee to the groin, should our host have gotten too fresh?" He smirked.

"I have seen farm-cropped produce that is less fresh than that satiric swine was with me!" She cast him a look of outraged feminine indignation. "Do you know that I probably have his paw prints permanently seared on my hindquarters?"

"I would gladly check the veracity of that statement for you, Ms. Dallas." Miles was unable to hide the grin in his voice. "But that wouldn't make me much of a gentleman then, would it?"

Lana only scowled at him in response, and he chuckled softly.

"I apologize, Debbie, for any indignities that you suffered tonight. I swear to you, I most definitely would have intervened if it appeared that things were getting too out of hand. Nevertheless, had I not allowed you to fend for yourself, I would have been unable to secure the information that we so prominently needed. Besides, I came through for you in the end, did I not?"

"I guess so," Lana grumbled, and then looked up at him with a quizzical expression. "Is this song really of such great relevance to Maximilian Banks, or was that just an excuse to get me out of Ku's oversexed clutches?"

* * *

**_At every time I've always known_ ** **  
_That you were there, upon your throne_   
_A lonely queen without her king_   
_I longed for you, my love forever_ **

* * *

**_All of my life_ ** **  
_Where have you been_   
_I wonder if I'll ever see you again_   
_And if that day comes_   
_I know we could win_   
_I wonder if I'll ever see you again_ **

* * *

"I wasn't lying." The laughter died from his eyes then, and a look of sadness crossed his handsome face. "Even though I'd known her nearly my entire life, I remember when I first realized I loved Franziska, that was still exactly how I felt; I wondered where she had been, all of my life. This song reminds me of the Queen who holds my heart, whom I have not seen, nor even spoken to, in so long. At times, I have to do wonder, _when_ , or _if_ , I'll ever see her again."

"Oh Mi – _Max_." Lana eyed him sympathetically, surprised, and touched by the poignant words. "I'm so sorry. Separation is brutal, and trust me, I know how you feel, I truly do. After all, it has been over seven years since I've laid eyes on the man that I love."

Miles suddenly felt ashamed by his self-centeredness. Here he was, lamenting about how much he missed his lover, to a woman who had not been able to see or even communicate, with her own, in a dog's age. Talk about preaching to the choir!

"When is he up for parole?" He asked awkwardly.

"Sometime early next year, if all goes well," she sighed. "Not that it will matter, anyway, if I'm stationed as a ground asset in Europe when he gets out. On top of all the laws that he broke while trying to avenge his brother, assaulting a police officer, even one as aggravating and incompetent as Mike Meekins, is no laughing matter. They really threw the book at him for that."

"I'm very sorry."

"Thank you. Anyhow, this is supposed to be a party, so I can wait till we get out of here to shed a tear in my beer," Lana quipped, forcing a smile. "In the meantime, what's the deal with New York?"

"After all these months of placating Ku by having our lips placed upon his posterior by spending an obscene amount on funds on his wares to get back in his good graces, all the while frantically chasing every ridiculous, dead-end lead we've had thus far, we may finally get a break. Ku has finally decided to eliminate himself as the intermediary, and give us the name of the man from whom he purchases Borginia's most coveted imports. We will be paying a visit to the unsuspecting Craven Moorehead as soon as I get the green light from a certain Wolf Man."

" _What_ did you say his name was?" Lana stared at him in disbelief, wondering if the last martini she'd consumed had affected her hearing. "You've got to be shitting me!"

"On the contrary, my dear," Miles shook his head and flashed her a disarming grin. "I couldn't make this up if I tried."

* * *

 ** _Detective Tyrell Badd and Lou Pole the Mole_**  
 _Hideout Residence, Borginia_  
November 12, 2025, 3:00 AM

The tiny hellhole had the look of a poorly planned enterprise gone badly wrong. The walls of rough sodden planks were haphazardly wonky, allowing the few surrounding streams of streetlights to crisscross the hut like a crazy tic-tac-toe board. Dirt and moss clung to the grooves of the corrugated iron roof that jutted out, overhanging the walls by a good two feet on every side.

Badd shook his head as he parked a few meters away from the intended destination, and then approached the residence.

The shack would have appeared to others as discomforting and sinister, but it was the designated meeting spot the detective had been summoned to. The clandestine hovel was his associate's escape place to hide away and remain unknown from the rest of the world. The dwelling had no windows and its only entrance had been barred from inside. However, there was a _way_ to enter it, but only to those who knew _where_ to look for it – it was in a blink and you'd miss it location, buried under the camouflaged ivy, which draped the outside of the tiny ramshackle dwelling like a curtain.

The detective gave the door of the rundown, obscure shack three knocks, in the rhythmic "shave and a haircut" manner, to indicate to the person within of his identity.

The door opened a tiny sliver of a crack, and a pair of frantic eyes peered out.

"You alone?" The voice inside rasped.

Badd nodded.

The door creaked open, moving open a centimeter at a time. Badd knew better than to try to force it to open faster, as the wood of the door had grown moldy and soft with water and neglect, and pushing it harder, especially if done by someone of his strength, would probably result in him pushing right _through_ the door. At last, the door opened just enough to let the big man inside, and then the person within hurriedly shut it behind him.

Dust layered on the floor, like a thick carpet, muffling both their footsteps. Had it been daytime, Badd imagined no more than a few rays of sunlight could burst through the boarded-up windows, casting a dim light across the dingy room. A single, stained twin mattress lay neglected in the corner of the room, underneath a half-packed suitcase and a battery-powered radio was playing in the background. Paper and clothes were strewn all over the table flocked by a single wrought-iron chair in the corner. There were crumbs all over the table, dirty dishes sitting on the floor, and old newspapers piled up in the corners. The decrepit hovel looked like a witch's home. Even in the light of the dimly lit oil lamp in the corner of the room, Badd could make out the cobwebs hanging off the walls, along with the damp seeping across the ceiling, like reaching fingers. On top of all that, the mildew and mold smell was so overpowering, the detective needed to cover his mouth and nose.

"I thought you'd never get here, dude!" The shack occupant squawked to the detective. "I was, like, _totally_ getting freaked out, man! Even more so than I already am!"

Badd took a step forward so that he could get a closer look at his shifty-eyed insider, who looked both young and old at the same time. He was currently shaking and gnawing at his fingernails, which were already bitten to the quick, and his dark eyes, filled with obvious distress and hidden trauma, glistened in the tiny haze of light that radiated off the small flickering flame of the table candle, the only other source of light in the room. His face was caked in soot, streaked with dirt and sand, making him look like a chimney sweep, all hollow skin, and prominent bones in his narrow face. The long coat covering his bony shoulders was sewn with replacement dark thread and leather patches, and his boots mimicked the style of his jacket: leather, heavy, and durable. A fine layer of dust coated his short, mousy brown hair, appeared ashy grey, the tips haphazardly tousled so they intertwined to resemble a chaotic bird's nest.

"Get a hold of yourself, Lou!" The big man barked, crossing his large arms across his broad chest. " _Now_ is _not_ the time for _hysterics_! Just calm down, pull yourself together, and start from the beginning!"

"Give me a break, dude! How can you be telling me to keep calm and a carry on when I got my life on the line, man?" Interpol's long-time cocoon smuggling "inside" man, Lou Pole, bore a face infused with terror, equipped with bloodshot, pallid eyes, and bloodless lips. "You would, like, be freaking the fuck out too, if you had been the one to have literally dodged a bullet like I did, not even 12 hours ago, man!"

_I love how he states the obvious with **such** a sense of discovery…_

Badd let out a soundless sigh of exasperation at the younger man's histrionics for uttering such a _ludicrous statement_ to a _homicide detective,_ whose _coat had more **bullet holes** than Swiss cheese_, but ultimately decided to let it pass, in light of the dire situation.

"Sorry for seeming insensitive, Lou." He took a fresh lollipop from his inner jacket pocket and popped it into his mouth, the stick bobbing up and down as he spoke. "Take your time, and tell me what happened earlier today when you two were downtown."

Lou raked an agitated hand through his hair as he lit up the marijuana joint dangling in his mouth with quivering fingers. The poor guy's nerves were so shattered that he clearly missed the irony of indulging in the very drug he'd been busted for dealing in the first place! ( _in front of an officer of the law_ , no less!) It was said bust had made him become Interpol's turncoat insider, instead of hauling his bony ass to prison.

Badd decided to let it go. Even the smell of _weed_ was welcome over the unbearable musty scent of the place, and helped _disguise_ _it_ , somewhat!

"It was just a normal day, you know what I mean, dude?" The spindly, squirrely-eyed bloke took a deep drag and expelled a huge smoky cloud, seeming to relax somewhat as he did so. "He thought I was his homeboy, you know what I'm saying? We'd gone downtown to look at some gift shops that sold wedding favors to give your guests, what do you call them, bum in your ears?"

"You mean, bombonieres?" Badd's lips twitched behind his lollipop as he tried to hide a smirk.

"Yeah, that's what I said!" Lou looked mortally wounded at the correction. "Bum in your ears! Anyway, man, it was a social call, just us two bros hanging loose, having a nice day out and about. After checking out the wedding favors, we were, like, heading back to his car when he got a sudden hankering for coffee. Ku drank his weight in coffee – he was as addicted to it as he was to the nose candy, man! Well, he went on ahead, and I followed him because I seriously needed to go drain my lizard. I'd only had two cups, but the stuff goes right through me, you know what I'm saying, man? Makes me piss like a racehorse! I don't know how that little dude could consume so much of the stuff and not constantly needed to be seeing a man about a horse! Kidneys of steel or secret adult diapers…what do you think?"

 _I **think** I am a hair's breadth away from throttling you by your scrawny neck! Goddammit, you little shit-weasel, stop straying from the topic!_ The detective longed to shout, his own nerves getting aggravated by the scatterbrained man's constant derailing from the most important matter at hand. _Get to the point where you called me and told me you were **bailing on us** and **why**!_

Instead of a response, Badd opted to give one of his customary glares. Lou got the hint, and put up his hands in surrender, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry, man! Why you gotta give me that death glare for, dude? Have I not suffered enough already from the trauma of this event?"

 _Is this the same level of unfathomable exasperation Miles feels whenever he's had to deal with that bumble butt, Larry Butz?_ _Grrr_! _You **do** realize that people just **tolerate** you, don't you, Lou? Moreover, I'm thisclose to not even being able to do **that** anymore, you **irksome little pipsqueak**!_

Badd remained silent with his fuming thoughts, chomping down so hard on his lollipop that the stick broke off and fell to the ground while he looked daggers at his informant.

" _Please_ don't kill me, dude!" Lou let out a soft whimper. "I'm sorry, OK? I'm just so rattled, man! Now, where was I? It all just seems like a blur… So anyway, while I was like, taking a leak, he stepped out and was on his phone. I could see him standing in front of the café window as I came back towards the front door. I was just about to join him outside when I suddenly looked down and realize my shoelaces were undone. Such a pain in the ass, man! No matter how hard I try, they still always become unlaced, and I trip over my own feet! Kinda hard to impress the ladies when you're face planting on the sidewalk, huh, dude?"

 _The king of attention deficit disorder strikes again!_ Badd barely resisted the urge to facepalm. _I'm too damn old to have the saintly level of patience needed to deal with this **dumbass** anymore! **What** have I **ever done** to deserve **this**?_

"I never realized that my _unlucky laces_ were going to be what saved my life, man!" Lou stubbed out his joint on the floor and stomped it with his boot. "So, like, I kneeled down to tie up my laces. Then, just as I was getting up again, that's when I heard it. The gunshot."

_About freaking time! **Now** we are **finally** getting somewhere!_

"Gunshot?" Badd prompted impatiently, as the other man's eyes took on a haunted look while he remembered the series of events.

"Until today, man, I had no idea what _real_ gunshots sounded like. I've only heard them and fired them in those virtual reality video games, and it _did_ sound like the ones in the games! At first, I thought it was a car backfiring. But when I saw Ku drop to the ground, I realized, holy shit, that _was_ a gunshot, man! I became sure of it when I saw the hole in the café window. The damn bullet went right through the poor sonofabitch, and got stuck in the glass, and couldn't even penetrate it. It must have been a sniper rifle and the shooter used real low velocity."

The poor man's eyes were wide with fear as he rehashed the details.

"All I remember thinking was, _who is it? Where is he hiding_? I know these guns can fire bullets further than we can see. I stared out of the window in the direction where the bullet came from, wondering, _what if they fired again_? _What if someone was hunting **me** down, too, and was rearing to take a second shot_? Then I thought, if somebody was hunting Ku down with a sniper rifle, he must be a professional. And there's no way in hell he would miss his mark."

"That must've been terrifying," Badd sympathized, completely sincere this time. After all, Lou Pole wasn't a trained Interpol Agent or even an officer of the law. He was a small-time, former drug dealer who had been their willing informant and inside man to all of Wa Sing Ku's dealings, and while he had previously lived a life of crime, it had not been a violent one. "So tell me, what did you do then? What happened?"

"It was complete pandemonium in the coffee shop, man." Lou frantically paced the dusty floor and ran a hand down his dirty face. "People were screaming, try to hide under the tables, bumping into each other, crying… Total mayhem, dude! In the middle of all the mass hysteria, I did the only thing I could think of to do. I took advantage of the chaos, went outside to check on Ku, and when I realized that the bullet had made its mark and that he really was dead, I reached into his inner jacket pocket, grabbed his papers, and ran like a bat out of hell."

* * *

 ** _Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Four Seasons Hotel, 50th floor, New York City_  
November 9, 2025, 9:30 PM

"Once we get the listening device into that room, and get some proof that this Craven Moorehead guy is the cocoon dealer, Max Banks will find some way to bump into him tomorrow, say that I'm an associate of Ku, and try to set up a deal. It's just a matter of getting _in there_. So, are you ready for this, Lana?" Miles probed. "I already have the pinhole camera set up in the room next door to the bachelor party, where I will be monitoring the surveillance of the activities. Do you want to go over the plan of action one more time?"

"Relax, I got this." Lana fidgeted with the black hemline of her skirt, which rivaled a Band-Aid in length, and undid another button, revealing just enough of a tantalizing glimpse of her black bustier underneath. Miles, being the gentleman that he was, did his best to appear he didn't notice. "I just hope that the guys are already too drunk and stoned to notice that my attire looks nothing like the rest of the housekeeping staff at this hotel, and don't mistake me for being one of the peelers they have undoubtedly hired for the evening! It's one thing for me to have to dress like a cheap floozy for this demeaning task for the sake of this operation, but I draw the line at removing my clothing while the hard-up horn dogs try to stick dollar bills into my garter!"

"You will be in and out of there before you know it," Miles assured her, biting back a grin. "All you have to do is plant the bug, and find some excuse to get in there to do so. Fortunately, most men are suckers for good-looking, scantily clad women who offer to come to _fluff their pillows_."

"You're just a barrel of laughs, aren't you?!" Annoyed, Lana picked up a nearby throw pillow from the couch beside her and hurled it at him. "It's not funny! Even when I'm not on your arm as Debbie Dallas, I still don't get a break from having to play this bimbo role!"

"I'm sorry, Lana." Miles tried unsuccessfully to hide his smirk. "I should be more sensitive. Can you even _breathe_ in that thing? That corset looks mighty tight!"

"I'm just fine." She grimaced. "Breathing is evidently overrated, you know. All the better to put my boobs under my chin, for the merriment of the lecherous pervs I will be visiting in a moment!"

"I have faith in you," Miles winked at her good-naturedly. "If you can handle _Ku_ , you can handle _anybody_."

"My ability to handle anybody isn't the situation that I'm worried about," Lana grumbled as she headed out the door. "It's their desire to handle me that may be an issue!"

Miles found this very amusing, which made Lana only want to hurl something else at him, but she was out of pillows, and out of time. It was showtime.

_Here goes nothing…_

* * *

**_Craven Moorehead's Bachelor Party  
_** _Four Seasons Hotel,_ _Suite 5069_

A man in his mid-to-late 30's, with tousled black hair, wearing a light blue dress shirt with the collar unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up at the elbow, answered the door with a goofy, lopsided grin. A drop-dead gorgeous brunette, looking like something out of every man's wet dream, sporting a skimpy French maid uniform and a vixenish smile stood there, holding an enormous bottle of champagne in her crimson tipped hands.

"Good evening," she purred, biting her lip and looking the man up and down appreciatively. "Is this the bachelor party for Mr. Craven Moorehead?"

"You bet it is, sweet cheeks!" The man let out a drunken whoop and cupped a hand to his mouth as he hollered back to the occupants of the room. "Hey guys, this is going to be one hell of a party! The _other_ stripper is here now!"

Without warning, he grabbed Lana by the arm, yanked her into the room, and pulled her into the living room, where about a dozen drunken louts were lolling about. Their lascivious, blatant gawking made her flesh crawl, feeling as though she'd been stripped bare before their eyes.

"Hot Diggity!" Somebody yelled. "Who ordered another babe? I thought our entertainers tonight were gonna be the chick that was going to do that special belly dance routine with the goat and those two Barbie lookalike twins who were double-jointed?"

_Gah! It's more depraved than I thought! Goat?! **I don't want to know** …_

"Er, I think there's been a misunderstanding." Lana kept the sickly grin on her face, even though she was inwardly groaning as she waved the bottle of bubbly in the air, hoping she wouldn't need to use it as a weapon. "When management became aware of the upcoming nuptials of Mr. Moorehead, they sent me to bring up this complimentary bottle of champagne, courtesy of the hotel." She batted her eyelashes at the men. "Shall I pop it open for y'all?"

"I'm popping a woody just looking at you, baby!" Somebody shouted. "Awooga! Girl, you so fine! You so fine, you blow my mind!"

_Dammit! I **knew** this was going to happen!_

Lana could have dropped dead of humiliation right then and there. For the love of God, she had been chief prosecutor, and one-half of the Legendary Duo when she had been a top-ranking detective in another lifetime, and yet somehow, she had now been reduced to this?! To being drunken man candy?!

" _I_ would be the lucky future groom," the man who answered the door wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, leaning down so they were practically nose-to-nose. " _Mmm_ …you sure you don't make a few extra bucks, honey? We would ensure we make it _worth your while_... and it would be _our little secret_ …"

_Ugh, **this libidinous pervert** is the mastermind tycoon running the cocoon business?! I pity the woman that's going to marry him because my instincts scream they want me to do **a little bit more** for them than just simply peeling off my clothing…_

"Tempting though that may be…" Lana subtly inched away and smiled sweetly. "I'm still on the clock with the hotel, and they wouldn't take too kindly to me moonlighting mid-duty. Besides, it sounds like your _contortionist Barbie girls_ and _animal entertainer_ would be _more than enough excitement_ compared to boring little ol' me!" She waved the bottle in the air. "This is _Cristal_ , the _good stuff_ , guys! Someone go bring out the glasses while I do the honors!"

Lana discreetly gave the bubbly a big shake and took the small towel that was handed to her while she went about the task of uncorking the champagne. Squeezing her eyes shut, in case the cork went flying, she popped the bottle open, intentionally aiming it towards herself. Just as planned, a spray of champagne went flying onto her, soaking the top portion of her uniform and trickling down her throat to her chest. She tried not to vomit in her own mouth as a dozen pairs of horny eyes fixated on how the soaking wet material clung to her breasts.

"Oh dear, I'm so clumsy!" She tittered, clapping a hand to her mouth and looking at the men with wide, innocent eyes. "Look at me, I'm all wet! And I'm still on duty, with other guests that need to be serviced!" She looked beseechingly at Moorehead and discreetly arched her back so that the drenched material strained against her bosom. "Do you think I could duck into the bathroom and try to dry off, real quick?"

"No problem." Moorehead nodded dazedly, his eyes never straying from the glorious sight before him as he reached for the bottle of champagne… What was _left_ within it, anyway! "The bathroom is by the front door."

"Thank you, sugar." Lana blew him a kiss, swinging her hips as her long, high-heeled legs sashayed towards the bathroom, while 12 sets of admiring eyes followed her every move.

Once inside the bathroom, she quickly reached into the front pocket of her apron, retrieved the listening device, and discreetly placed it underneath the marble counter.

" _Done!"_ Lana whispered with satisfaction, before looking down gloomily at her drenched uniform. She quickly grabbed a towel and attempted to pat herself dry. "Ugh! I can't wait to get out of this sticky thing…"

_Damn, I hope this actually gets us somewhere and I didn't just degrade myself like this for nothing…_

* * *

**_Detective Tyrell Badd and Lou Pole the Mole_**  
 _Hideout Residence, Borginia_  
November 12, 2025, 3:15 AM

"Ku has been, like, jerking you guys around, dude!" Lou cried. "He's _not_ the cocoon supplier at all! Moreover, he's got _nothing_ to do with them!"

"He eventually relayed that information to Lana and Miles…" Badd murmured. _Several tens of thousands of dollars in cocaine later, the greedy, crooked bastard!_ "…But he also told them the name of the New York-based supplier, a Craven Moorehead?"

"Moorehead is like a Ku – he's at the bottom of the food chain, too, man! That pretty boy is nothing more than a drug dealing, cokehead, Playboy, who is only one rung above Ku on the ladder! He doesn't supply the cocoons either, nor does he even know who the key supplier is! He's just a guy who Ku supposedly buys them from, and we are talking small, piddlin amounts, dude!"

" _Goddammit!"_ Badd cursed. "That bastard Ku has been having us run around in circles, like a dog chasing its own tail, _for the past year_ , and he hasn't known _anything_? What a waste of time and money!"

_I'm **glad** that son of a bitch is dead! I **really** am!_

"Ku was like, just giving you the bum steer, man! Here's the thing though. He may not have given you the names of people who were more powerful or influential than he was, but that didn't mean he _didn't know or have access to them_. I dunno what his deal was if he was _ever_ going to share this information with you, but I doubt it. My guess is he was just gonna continue stringing you along and keep making you buy kilos off him, to keep further lining his deep pockets."

"What are you talking about, Lou?" Badd narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How would _you_ know all this information?"

"Take a look at this." Lou reached into his inner jacket pocket with a trembling hand and handed Badd a few sheets of paper with handwritten notes, including names and numbers. "These were the papers that I snagged off Ku before I like, made tracks, and spent the rest of the day hiding out in the underground dirt paths like some sorta mole, man! These top-secret docs were _always on his person_. Ku didn't even trust digitizing them, by putting them into a computer or cell, in case they were traced or hacked!"

Badd skeptically took the papers from the informant and cast a furtive glance just at the first few names, his eyes widening as he saw some names he recognized.

* * *

_Fu Manchu_

_Shang-Chi_

_Dian Mayudzuki_

_Tomas Kashkash_

_Adam Baum_

_Jim Shu_

_Randy Lover_

_Seymour Heinie_

* * *

"I actually have heard of a few of these guys!" The detective's eyes were wide with shock as he looked down the _goldmine_ of information he had just been handed. "A few of them are notorious drug lords and smugglers across the globe that Interpol has been after for some time, but they keep evading us, or we haven't had enough evidence to prove they were involved in anything more nefarious than your standard drug trafficking. Is it possible that Ku could've been buying cocoons from these guys?"

"I don't know man, but it's up to you guys to find out, _without_ my help now." Lou snapped his suitcase shut and grabbed it by the handle. "This was my final hurrah for you guys, and now, I'm out! I just barely missed being a sniper target today, and I don't want to live my life _by the luck of my shoelaces_ anymore, dude! Sorry, but I'm just not meant for this racket, man! I've _done_ my part, I made friends with the bad guy, but now he's plant food, and it's _way_ too dangerous for me to stick around, man! I'm getting the hell out of Dodge, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"I get that you're scared Lou, but we can place you in protective custody! No need to run!" Badd protested. "After you testify, we'll get you a brand new start, a whole new life, and identity! But you need to sign an affidavit with Lang, and provide testimony about what you know! It's the only way we can get rid of scum like this, and help get them to be put away for good!"

"I never said I wanted to be a Power Ranger or justice champion!" Lou shouted, brushing past Badd and reaching for the door, opening it just wide enough for his narrow frame to slip through. "I'm not the brave, hero type, man! I was a petty thug that got roped into trying to help the good guys, but now that might cost me my neck, and croaking wasn't part of the deal, dude! I am a shameless coward, I am shitting bricks, and I am getting the fuck outta here! It's been nice knowing you! As they say in Japan … _Sayonara!"_

And he raced out the door.

"Lou, wait!" Badd yelled, struggling to fling open the stubbornly stuck door even further so he could squeeze his broad frame through it, but only succeeded in ripping it off the hinges. _"Shit!"_

He raced around the house in hot pursuit, just in time to see the frantic Lou Pole struggling to get into his car across the street.

 _"Lou!"_ Badd started to race towards him but abruptly halted thirty meters short of the vehicle, as his cell started ringing just then.

It was the Wolf Man.

"Lang, make this quick!" He growled as a greeting, keeping one eye on his informant's rusted, beaten up Ford Pinto, which the other man appeared to be having trouble starting. "I've got an emergency here!"

"I've got an even _bigger_ emergency!" Lang countered. "You know how Ku got shot today?"

"Yes, of course, I do! That's why I'm here with Lou right now! We've got a flight risk, Lang, so make this quick!"

"They're _dead_ , Badd!" The Wolf Man hollered. "All of Ku's associates: his bodyguards, friends, even his servants… Looks like nobody's been spared – they've all been silenced. We're talking snipers, mysterious poison blow darts to the neck, drowned in the river, drowned in their own damn bathtubs! One of them, a fellow drug lord, perished today in a car bomb! Anyone who that fiend ever had any dealings with appears to have been a marked target. It's like someone's been putting a tracker on every single person that had ever known Wa Sing Ku!"

Badd's blood chilled in his veins then.

_Tracker…car bomb… Jesus H. Christ!_

The phone dropped from the horrified detective's hand as he rushed forward.

" _Lou!"_ He screamed. _"Wait! Stop!"_

It was too late.

_"Noooooo!"_

There was a huge gust of smoke blown from the engine, and then the car was annihilated into oblivion, right before his very eyes.

As the vehicle had sputtered to life, a horrible coughing sound, like that of a dying man, activated the small, deadly device, filled with a mixture of magnesium powder and mercury fulminate. The Pinto ignited in a fiery ball of yellow flame, billowing outwards into a pillar of fiery smoke and dust, the sound reverberating in the still of the night with the ominous boom of a thunderclap. The light from the ignited mercury burned for a full five seconds. It was so blinding that even closing his eyes made no difference. The blast didn't just deafen Badd; it shuddered right through him – as if trying to rip out his heart.

The universe turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything was gone. The last painful sensation slammed against the detective before he lost all feeling. Everything darkened into nothingness as the world faded to black around him.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Ty Warner Penthouse Suite, Four Seasons Hotel, New York City  
_ November 11, 2025, 9:30 PM

"At ease, Lana! You've been complaining about LeTouse for the last _seven hours_ ," Miles said dryly, pouring some brandy into a tumbler and handing it to his frazzled partner, who was fuming on his sofa. "Stop, take a break, and get some oxygen into those starved lungs of yours."

_And give my poor, abused ears a break while you're at it!_

"The man is nothing more than mean-spirited, rotten bastard!" Lana seethed, tossing back the contents of her glass in one gulp. "I thought he would be sympathetic to our plight when we disclosed details to him of our dead-end leads and regaled him about how our personal undercover operation with the bachelor party was a bust! He's a fellow agent! He should know what it's like to occasionally get the bum steer when sources don't pan out! Instead, he had the gall to _laugh_ at us!"

"I know," Miles brooded at the memory as he raised his glass to his lips. " _I_ _was there_ , in case you don't recall, in your current state of _ire_."

"Then you should also remember what he had the nerve to say to me when I told him how those over-aged, drunken frat boys mistook me for a stripper!" She snapped. "His exact words were: _'At least they didn't think you were a hooker'_!"

Miles barely stifled a derisive snort at the reminder, then cleared his throat and affixed his most sympathetic expression.

"If memory serves me correctly, he may have been trying to placate you with that particular sentiment! And for the record, that wasn't when he started laughing though," he reminded her patiently. "I do believe LeTouse still only tittered somewhat when you told him that by the time you exited the bathroom, there was some woman there wearing a belly dancing outfit, doing unspeakably sordid things with a goat that would be forever scorched into your memory… While simultaneously, two other scantily clad women, of questionable virtue, were drawing pictures with black Sharpies all over the very naked future groom, who was lying there in a drugged-out stupor, which we assumed was from cocoon overdose..."

"I could have forgiven him for laughing at the tales of that level of unparalleled, hedonist, debauchery!" Lana sulked, folding her arms under her breasts. "But that still wasn't the part which made that dickhead double over!"

"Ah, yes it's all coming back to me now." He crossed his arms across his chest and tapped his forefinger, a frown creasing his forehead. "I do believe the man was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes when he found out that after wasting all those resources, what with the pinhole camera and planting the bug, that Craven Moorehead was no more than a playboy drug Lord like Ku, who had _no idea_ how to get cocoons!"

"And in all probability, sold some other substance to Ku, which he undoubtedly thought were the Borginia imports, but weren't!" Lana groaned. "Because that freaking idiot, Moorehead was heard as the one asking his boys if they could score him cocoons, and was delighted to dive right in when one of them said he had finally had gotten his mitts on the stuff… Which it turned out was nothing of the sort, but instead of wound up being highly illegal rhino horn powder, to which he had a most adverse, epileptic sort of reaction, possibly due to all the other drugs in his system, and 911 needed to be called!"

"No doubt his fiancée would've been called too," Miles lamented. "I am most curious to know how he was going to explain those black happy face drawings on his nether regions."

"Who cares?" Lana shrieked. "LeTouse thinks we're a damn joke and a waste of resources! You heard what he said to us both: _Seriously? The two of **you** are the best assets Interpol has? Boy, are we in trouble! I wouldn't quit my day job if I were either of you… And Lana, it perhaps wouldn't have hurt to have taken up Moorehead on his original offer to dance for dollars'_!"

"Yes, I concede, that _was_ an underhanded blow..."

"And to top it all off, the one thing illegal we could have busted them for, because rhinos are endangered, we're not even going to get credit for, because that judgmental, smarmy son of a bitch LeTouse swooped in and swiped it out from under us by calling it in, right there and then!"

"I do admit that was most… Unkind of him." He prosecutor frowned. "After all, this is hardly our fault. I don't believe I will be looking forward to working with him in the future whatsoever."

"Unkind?!" Lana jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing. "That's all you have to say about that smug, glory-stealing, credit-hogging, asshole?! Let me introduce you to a few other choice words you could be using, Miles!"

At that exact moment, Miles' cell rang. With a furrowed brow, he looked down and saw that it was Kay's phone number. Why was she calling him at this hour? It was the wee hours of the morning in Borginia, where she was presently stationed with Lang and Badd. What was going on?

"Hello?"

"Thank Christ you answered!" The shrill-sounding wail was one that Miles never would've recognized as his old friend's, had it not been for the caller ID. The next thing he knew, Kay dissolved into a hysterical bout of weeping, the noisy bawling only interrupted by her need to draw breath. It was a primal sound, one that was impossible for Miles to either ignore…or not be completely alarmed by.

Except for the one time when she had been 10 years old and just found out her father had been murdered, Kay Faraday _never_ cried. And even then, after she had blown her nose in his cravat, she had recovered readily enough and put on her brave face very soon afterward.

This time was different. There appeared to be no end to the heartrending cries from the other end of the line, and he had no idea what to do.

"Calm down, Kay," Miles instructed, looking anxiously at Lana, who was at his side in seconds, and listening in with an equally apprehensive look on her face that he knew mirrored his own. "I can't understand you when you're crying like this! What's wrong? What happened?"

"C-car b-bomb!" Kay managed to blubber, trying unsuccessfully to muffle her sobs.

"Dear Lord! A car bomb?" Miles gasped. "What?! Where? How? _W- Who_?"

"It was … _U – Uncle B – Badd!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lenny Kravitz – Again


	102. No One  Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when we held on in the rain  
> The night we almost lost it  
> Once again we can take the night into tomorrow  
> Living on feelings  
> Touching you I feel it all again
> 
> Didn't we almost have it all  
> When love was all we had worth giving?  
> The ride with you was worth the fall my friend  
> Loving you makes life worth living  
> Didn't we almost have it all  
> The night we held on till the morning  
> You know you'll never love that way again  
> Didn't we almost have it all
> 
> The way you used to touch me felt so fine  
> We kept our hearts together down the line  
> A moment in the soul can last forever  
> Comfort and keep us  
> Help me bring the feeling back again
> 
> Didn't we almost have it all  
> When love was all we had worth giving?  
> The ride with you was worth the fall my friend  
> Loving you makes life worth living  
> Didn't we almost have it all  
> The night we held on till the morning  
> You know you'll never love that way again  
> Didn't we almost have it all
> 
> Didn't we have the best of times  
> When love was young and new?  
> Couldn't we reach inside and find  
> The world of me and you?  
> We'll never lose it again  
> 'Cause once you know what love is  
> You never let it end
> 
> Didn't we almost have it all  
> When love was all we had worth giving?  
> The ride with you was worth the fall my friend  
> Loving you makes life worth living
> 
> Didn't we almost have it all  
> The night we held on till the morning  
> You know you'll never love that way again  
> Didn't we almost have it all

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Eagle Mountain, Hazakura Temple,  
_ February 23, 2019

"You know you don't _have_ to do this, right Nick?"

"Maya I heard you say it the first few hundred times!" Phoenix nervously fidgeted with the sash on his navy blue kimono and avoided her eyes. "As you know, I am a man of my word, and if I promised both you and your cousin that I'm going to do this Ultra Course with you, then I meant it!"

"This isn't like the Gatewater Hotel, Nick. Even though Pearly is the one who signed you up to do this, you won't be losing a four-digit amount of dollars if you back out!" Maya eyed him anxiously. "Besides you're only just now getting over that terrible cold you caught a couple of weeks ago from falling into that river. You know this waterfall, after 30,000 chants, is going to be 100 times as cold, right?"

"I'm sure I'll survive. Sister Bikini can revive me if I'm at risk of dying from hypothermia," he deadpanned. "Besides, this training will be helpful for you to harness your powers for when you take over the Master duties, right?"

"Well, yes, but _I'm_ also used to this sort of thing, _you_ aren't! Unless of course," she added playfully. "You're doing this _just so_ you wind up back in the hospital, and are hoping _I'm_ gonna nurse you back to health!"

"Don't even _go_ there, Maya!" Phoenix moaned. "I don't even want to hear the _word_ hospital! If I never see one again for as long as I live, it will be too soon!"

"I think I still have that Très Bien uniform from my short-lived career as Jean Armstrong's waitress," Maya teased, nudging him in the ribs. "If you wind up strapped to a gurney again, I can always nurse you back to health wearing _that_ , seeing as how I don't have a nurse's uniform!"

"Ha-ha, very funny!" Even as he mockingly said the words, Phoenix felt his face turning a bright red at the memory of Maya in that uniform. The image was permanently etched into his memory, and still made him hot under the collar, even six weeks later…

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Très Bien Restaurant_  
January 6, 2019

The French restaurant, while possibly the most overpriced one he had ever been to ($45 for a lunch special _–_ seriously?!) was nevertheless pretty, frilly, and pink.

Phoenix glanced around, noting he was the sole person in the otherwise empty restaurant.

"Ah! Welcome! _Bee Avenue!"_

_Wow. What a cute voice._

"Oh, it's just _you_ , Nick." Suddenly, his assistant appeared before him, a tray in her arms, flashing her trademark contagious smile, dressed in a waitress uniform that could only be described as an orange Creamsicle with a skirt.

" _M- Maya!"_ The blue attorney's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, as he was so unaccustomed to seeing her in anything but her acolyte robes.

She caught his startled expression, flashed an adorable, shit-eating grin, and gave him a coy, sideways glance.

" _Well?"_ The brunette prompted when he continued to gawk at her with a slack jaw and saucer-sized orbs.

_Holy Christ-ola!_

"How do I look?" Maya twirled around in her waitress uniform, causing the skirt to lift slightly.

Phoenix was trying his hardest not to salivate like a dog ogling a steak bone.

 _Legs_.

All he could see was beautiful, shapely, smooth _legs_.

OK, legs…and… _a hint of a bosom_ , which Mother Nature had somehow sneakily augmented over the years, without his notice! Of course, this was possible because that bust was always hidden underneath a baggy spirit medium ensemble!

The legal legend had had over a year now to get used to the fact that he was madly in love with his office manager – the tell-tale velvet jeweler's box sitting and collecting dust in his night table was tangible evidence of such! However, it was one thing to love a woman because of her beautiful heart… And quite another to admittedly also be lusting after said woman because of her very well displayed… Beautiful parts.

_Life would have been so much easier on me as a man if this former girl before me had never blossomed into a woman! Why couldn't she just remain a skinny, flat-chested, burger-loving teenager?!_

With the addition of the white apron tied around his employee's narrow waist, the fitted top clinging to her breasts, not to mention the frilly white cap atop her head, the pretty the waitress ensemble could have passed for a naughty French maid uniform.

Thankfully, it was more orange Creamsicle than had it been black and white!

Nevertheless, the combination of _naughty_ and _Maya Fey_ was bad enough in his _mind_ , but having it in living color right before his _eyes_ , was nearly his undoing!

 _She's your_ _**best friend,** _ _Phoenix! Play it cool! Even if she_ _ **is**_ _going to be 21 soon, by no means does it now gives you a free pass to be a_ _**debauched lecher**_ _and drool over her like a hormonal teenage horndog! Good Lord, if she could read your mind right now,_ _**what a tale**_ _your thoughts would tell…_

The psychic was still eyeing him expectantly, but her smile was fading slightly due to his continually delayed silence, and slowly being replaced by a quizzical frown marring her smooth forehead.

The lawyer cleared his throat and realized that during the duration of his _lame-ass, extended eye banging_ , he still hadn't spoken. He wasn't sure why a uniform needed to be so tight-fitting and short, but ultimately, as discomforting as it was for him to see her like this, he didn't mind one bit!

"Er, maybe you should quit being a spirit medium," he finally ventured, in what he hoped was a completely normal tone.

Was he imagining things, or was that an expression of _disappointment_ on Maya's face by his neutral response?

Maya gave a small shrug and resumed her customary sunny smile.

"Should I take that to mean that you like it then, Nick?"

"Oh yes," he nodded, his mouth still dry. "I like it."

_More than you'll ever know…_

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Hazakura Temple, Sacred Cavern  
_ February 23, 2019

"Nick?" Maya studied him, puzzled. Phoenix appeared to be about a million miles away. "Are you OK?"

No answer from the defense attorney.

" _Yoo-hoo!"_ Maya waved a hand in front of her friend's face. "Earth to, Nick! Come in, Nick!"

Phoenix blinked, startled. He felt himself blushing slightly as his mind was reluctantly dragged back to the present and saw Maya studying him oddly.

"Sorry, Maya. My mind was in another place for some reason…"

_It was a very nice, happy place… Albeit a completely inappropriate one… But she doesn't need to know everything, does she?_

"Mr. Wright, are you sure you're up for this? This is your last chance to back out," Sister Bikini said gravely. "I promise you, we will not think any less of you should you want to opt-out of this."

"It's fine," he responded. He didn't blame the nun for appearing concerned, or even if she was questioning his sanity at this moment. After all, he was certainly questioning it _himself!_

_I mean, who in his right mind would willingly sit on a block of ice, chanting words in a foreign language, 30,000 times while having an arctic waterfall pouring on his head the whole time?! Answer: I would! Me, Phoenix Wright, who is undoubtedly so besotted with Maya Fey that I've taken temporary leave of my senses, that's who! Jesus Christ, first fire and lightning, now ice and freezing water. I do seem to completely lose my head when it comes to this girl! The funniest thing is, this isn't even the most insane thing I've ever done for Maya Fey. Not by a long shot…_

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Larry Butz**_  
 _Dusky Bridge_  
February 7, 2019, 11:18 PM

Elise Deauxnim was one hell of a mentor. Under her patient guiding and tutelage, Larry was pretty sure that he would be able to properly capture the strange sighting he had just witnessed by the burning Dusky Bridge. The artist, who henceforth preferred to be known as Laurice Deauxnim, was so engrossed in his sketching that he didn't even notice the huffing, puffing defense attorney rushing towards them until the panicked man was practically on top of him.

 _It's farther than I thought. The bridge is just up ahead,_ the spiky-haired man thought frantically _. I have to go tell Maya what happened, too!_

"Dusky Bridge...! It's burning down! _Aaaaaaaaaah_!" Phoenix shrieked as his sprinting form nearly collided with his friend, obviously too distracted to have spotted him until then. "D-Don't scare me like that, Larry! I almost had a heart attack!"

"Nick?! What the heck are _you_ doing here?"

"Larry! Hurry up and call the police!" He shouted. "I'm going to the Inner Temple!"

Larry felt his heart lurch as he noted the other man's wild eyes. Phoenix had most certainly _lost his mind_! What he was proposing was beyond preposterous! Couldn't he see that the path to the Inner Temple was only reachable by the bridge, which was currently _aflame_?! Did the lunatic man have some sort of _death wish_?!

"D-Don't be stupid!" The artist stammered, putting a halting hand on his friend's arm. "The bridge is nothing but a burning wreck right now!"

"Listen to me!" The defense attorney cried. "There's been a murder! Here! At Hazakura Temple!"

"Wha-Whaaaaat!?" Larry's jaw dropped to the ground in shock, as the panic coursed through his bloodstream. His mind reeled.

_Holy smokes! Nick is totally spazzing out, somebody has been killed, and we're stuck on an isolated mountain... With a murderer?!_

"The murderer might have fled across the bridge!" Phoenix shrieked, flinging Larry's hand off. "I have to make sure Maya is safe!"

Larry was no stranger to doing crazy things in the name of love. He had switched cities, occupations, interests, and had even proposed to a girl with an overhead blimp at a football game, (on their second date, back in high school... but he'd still been heartbroken when she'd disappeared at half time). But this… This was pure _insanity_! And this is coming from _him!_ Phoenix Wright was his best friend, he couldn't let Nick risk his very existence, especially for a lost cause! Because in the effort of trying to save Maya's life, in _this_ case, all he would be doing was surely _ending_ _his own_!

"B-B-But..." Larry grabbed Phoenix by the shoulders and shook them as he tried futilely to talk some sense into the blue attorney. "I can't let you do this! Have you lost your mind?!"

" _Please_!" Phoenix pleaded hoarsely, his face white with terror. "Call the police! I've got to go! Get outta my way, Larry!"

"It-It's too dangerous!" Larry shook his head stubbornly and tightened his grip. "Nick, you'll die! There's _no way in hell_ you'll make it!"

What superhuman strength he didn't even know he had, Phoenix forcibly removed Larry's hands and pushed him aside, causing the poor man to tumble to the ground in the process, as he then made his mad dash across the burning bridge.

"Nick, w-wait!" Larry called after him desperately. "Have you forgotten that you're deathly afraid of heights?!"

"I don't care! I need to get to Maya!" Were the last words Larry heard Phoenix Wright scream. " _Maya_!"

_I will do_ _**whatever it takes** _ _to save that girl! My acrophobia takes a backseat in dire straits like this! It doesn't matter what happens to me! Without Maya Fey, life just isn't worth living!_

_**...*crack!*...** _

Weakened even more by the fire, the rickety old bridge's planks snapped and gave way, swallowing Phoenix Wright into the eternal darkness.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" A final, terrified scream rose up to pierce the frozen air of that harrowing night.

" _Niiiiiick_ -!"

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Hazakura Temple, Sacred Cavern  
_ February 23, 2019

 _Sitting on a block of special extra-cold, slow-melting spirit ice while being hit by a relentless shower of frigid water is tough enough, but try repeating a mantra 30,000 times when your teeth are chattering so hard that you can barely form the words! If given the choice to do this again, I would take the plunge back into the Eagle River_ _**any**_ _day! At least that was only_ _ **once** _ _!_

"You can do this, Nick! Just stay with me!" Maya instructed through chattering teeth. She was sitting on the large ice block across from the one Phoenix was situated on, while a freezing torrent of subzero water poured over their heads. " _Mind over matter_! _Mind over matter_! Just keep repeating with me five times: _Toho Kami Emi Tamae."_

Phoenix repeated the Japanese Shinto prayer after her through blue, numb lips.

"Now repeat this after me one time: _Harae Tamae Kiyome Tamae."_

"Aaaahhhh!" he gasped, trying to suck in air, but it was icy cold, like breathing in frozen blades. He took a peek at Maya, frigid air puffing from his nose and mouth, to see that although she was soaking wet and shivering as badly as he was, she was still somehow chanting the words.

_I have to do this. I have to be strong for Maya. Even if it means wearing a flu mask for the rest of my life._

His teeth were chattering, his lips were numb and he was positive his frostbitten nose was about to fall off his face, along with other, _more precious_ parts of him, even though he had kept his pants on beneath his kimono! He also had the token additional covering of the Demon Warding Hood on his head - for all the good _that_ did! It clung to his hair and head like a glacial blanket.

Ice water coursed over him, seeping through his clothes, driving onto his face like pinpricks. He could feel the frost forming onto his hair, his nose, his hands. His eyes were watering. He was shivering all over. Trembling all down his spine, in long, powerful shudders.

The words were coming out as breathy whispers. His muscles felt like slabs of burning ice.

_So, so cold. So cold and numb, so painful. I can't feel my body anymore, it's so numb. I'm drifting on a cloud of ice water…_

"Nick, I can't hear you chanting!" Maya rasped through purple lips as she swayed slightly. " _Focus_!"

Silence from Phoenix.

Maya opened one eye to peek at him and panicked as she realized he seemed like he was about to keel over!

"Come on Nick, _stay with me_!" Maya's voice rose in fear. "It's basically meditating until we eventually get to a level that sends us spiraling into a vortex of cold."

Phoenix began slowly sliding off his ice block.

Alarmed, Maya reached over and shoved his drooping form back onto his frozen boulder. She had to do _something_ to keep him from fading on her! Perhaps she could keep his mind away from the painfulness of the stinging icy water and somehow allay him. A beacon of hope shone through her. While she wasn't a spiritual healer by conventional definition – her touch couldn't fuse a broken arm or close a wound – in this case, her hands _could_ at least help soothe, and help his mind, body and soul relax.

Reaching out, she took his hand in hers. This man had done and endured _so much_ for her. She couldn't let him down!

The spirit medium's hands slid up his arms, then neck, until she was cradling his face. With the softest of touches, she lowered her face to his, until they were resting forehead to forehead.

Maya raised her hands to Phoenix's temples and began massaging his scalp. Every touch was meant to stimulate the senses and relax the body. She combed her fingers through the slick black spikes at the base of his neck. His slow exhale burned hot against her throat and a shiver went through her body that had naught to do with the cold.

Desire flooded through her. A desire to help him…but also so much _more_. A desire to _be_ with him, _love_ him, as well as take away his discomfort. Moreover, the desire to make sure he _made it through this_!

Mystic Ami help her, how she _loved_ _and needed_ this man! Needed him to survive this ordeal, never leave her side, and be with her _completely_. Moving her hands to his face, she ran her fingers along the sculpted line of his jaw. The rough sandpaper sensation burned against her fingertips. She wanted to feel that roughness as he kissed her neck, the scruff scraping her mouth as he claimed it with his own. She wanted to hear his voice growling out her name…

Maya stopped in mid-caress. This was _healing_ … not a _seduction_.

She coughed slightly and then continued coaxing in her most soothing voice.

"Once you focus your thoughts, Nick, that's when you'll achieve a weightless feeling. The feeling of being so numb, so disconnected, that you'll feel like you're floating. Listen to me, Nick! Channel your mind to the moments that led you here, and once you get to that place just repeat after me … _Harae Tamae Kiyome Tamae…_ "

Phoenix felt himself stirring slightly as some slight sensation began to get restored in his body.

 _Focus, Phoenix. You can do this!_ He ordered himself to mindlessly repeat the Japanese words, feeling himself warming up a tad, while he tried not to melt under the warm sweetness of Maya's hands on his skin.

He clutched his magatama tightly in his hand and felt Maya's blessing in his ears, fortifying an inner strength in him he didn't know he possessed. He could _do_ this. Water above, ice below...it was _nothing_. With Maya Fey by his side, he could handle _anything_.

_Focus Phoenix. Focus your mind on everything that led up to the events of you being here at this very moment…_

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth**_  
 _Hotti Clinic, ICU_  
February 8, 2019, 12:00 PM

Sometimes Phoenix wasn't sure if he was the _luckiest_ or the _unluckiest_ man on earth. However, seeing as how he was still alive after falling off an 80-foot high suspension bridge into frigid, rocky waters, with only a high fever and pesky cough that wouldn't seem to abate, he _supposed_ he _could_ veer his thoughts more towards the _former_.

 _I must have been crazy. I knew how dangerous it was, but I still went for it. And if I had to do all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Pearls once asked me if I would walk over burning hot coals for her cousin. Yes Pearls, I would. Maya's_ _**mad** _ _…but she's_ _**magic** _ _. There's no lie in her fire. There is no limit to the things I'd do for love. Not when it comes to that girl._

Miles Edgeworth would never understand that. Sure, he was with Franziska now and was no stranger to love, but he was also a man who was strictly by the book and didn't believe in taking unnecessary risks. Edgeworth would never even _jaywalk across the street_ , never mind _run across a burning bridge!_

Therefore, he was grateful that Edgeworth wasn't in the country at the moment, knowing full well what kind of tongue-lashing he would get from his ever logical and sensible friend about his irrational behavior that had led up to this.

_It's just as well that Edgy is in Europe then. I don't need one of his infamous lectures right now!_

Phoenix had been told that his temperature had been wavering between 103°F and 104°F. Therefore, he was sure that his highly fevered state _had_ to be what was causing him to be _seeing_ confusing _visions_. How else to explain the fact that he had just been thinking about the former demon prosecutor, _at that moment_ … Only to have The Edgeworth himself suddenly materialize, at that exact minute, in his hospital room?

The two men locked eyes wordlessly for a moment. There was an expression of exasperated relief on Edgeworth's normally stoic, guarded visage.

Astonished, Phoenix started to speak, but suddenly his body began to shake as he went into a coughing fit. Winded with exhaustion, he flopped back down on his pillow and silently waved at Edgeworth in welcome.

"Wright." Edgeworth nodded in greeting, speaking in his normal composed tone, as though seeing his friend in ICU under these circumstances was an everyday occurrence.

 _What I'd give to have an ounce of this man's composure._ _**Nothing**_ _ever rattles Edgeworth. Absolutely_ _ **nothing**_ _._

"Edgeworth!" Phoenix's eyes were the size of silver dollars. "What are you doing here? I thought you and Franziska were happily shacked up in Europe!"

"Working international investigations and for Interpol – not at the same residence! – should anyone else ever ask," Edgeworth said wryly. "That insider information is strictly for you and Miss Fey's knowledge only, thank you."

"Whatever you say, buddy." Phoenix nodded solemnly, well aware of how Edgeworth and Franziska were with their jealously guarded privacy.

"Anyhow, to answer your question, Wright, I took a break from said duties because I was awakened in the middle of the night by a phone call from a hysterical friend of ours, who led me to believe that you were on the brink of death."

Phoenix's shoulders drooped as he grimaced.

"Let me guess…this friend wouldn't happen to occasionally be referred to as _Harry Butz_ now, would he?"

"Yes, although the man of many names rather insistently informed me that he now wants to be known as Laurice Deauxnim." The prosecutor's lips twitched with amusement.

"Heh, heh…there's a bit of a story to that. I have quite a bit to get you caught up on. Why don't you pull up a chair?"

As Edgeworth sat down, his eyes fell on the Demon Warding Hood tossed carelessly at the foot of the bed.

"Wright, what in God's name is that ridiculous looking contraption?"

"Oh, yeah, that's another tale entirely. It's the Demon Warding Hood that Iris gave me." Phoenix felt his face flush and awkwardly scratched the back of his head, knowing how ludicrous it must sound to Mr. Logic. "I was wearing it up until you came in. It was making my head itch…plus it totally flattens my spikes."

"I didn't think there was any force of nature that could achieve that, Wright," Edgeworth quipped, smirking when he saw Phoenix's scowl. "So tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Well, I feel dizzy, my ears are ringing, my throat burns, and my head's on fire. Other than that, I'm fine, thanks."

"Uh huh. I spoke with the doctors. They told me that you'll need to stay here for at least another few days and get bed rest."

"They told me that too, but I don't need to stay here that long. I told them I'm _completely fine_!" The minute Phoenix finished the sentence, he went into another coughing fit.

"Oh yes. You're doing splendidly."

Once the coughing episode had subsided, Phoenix let out a deep breath and flopped back against his pillow again, shutting his eyes.

"I _can't_ stay here, Edgeworth! There's so much I need to do! I need to find make sure Maya is alright, find Ms. Deauxnim's murderer, locate Pearls and defend Iris…"

"What you _need to do_ ," Edgeworth stated firmly. "Is _get better_ , Wright! You can barely _talk_ , never mind _walk_! You're not a superhero, and it's a miracle you're alive after falling off an 80-foot high burning bridge! You're lucky you didn't catch pneumonia or your death! I've never known you to be this foolish before. What the hell were you thinking?!"

Phoenix's eyes remained closed, and he only managed to whisper one word.

" _Maya_."

The defense attorney cringed inwardly as he steeled himself for the barrage of questions that were sure to follow, probably something along the lines of: _Are you bloody mad?!_ and _What the hell were you thinking?!_

Phoenix wasn't even sure how he would answer. How could he possibly explain his secret, hidden feelings, ones that he as of yet had never uttered to another human being, which had caused him to do what he had done? Feelings that he could barely even admit to _himself_ , even now?

He studied the other man's face apprehensively, and rather than a harsh, judgmental countenance, instead found, to his amazement, his friend's expression was one of compassionate understanding.

"I know you love her, Wright." Edgeworth's tone was surprisingly gentle and matter of fact.

Phoenix felt his throat closing up, and reached quickly for his bedside water glass. Edgeworth… _knew_? _How_? _Since when?_ Was it possible he'd known… _before Phoenix himself_ even had? Before he could raise an objection, his friend continued in his mild castigating.

"But you're no good to Miss Fey, or _anyone_ , as a dead man. Sometimes…it may be better to lead with your head than your heart."

 _You condescending, sanctimonious,_ _**prig**_ _!_

Phoenix was _completely incensed,_ despite his feeble state, and had to summon up all his inner strength before he could find the ability to speak. _This_ was coming from a man who had literally dropped his position as a High Prosecutor like a hot potato, _completely on a whim_ , without any fear or heed of ramification, in order to jump on a plane to Germany and chase the woman _he_ loved?! Was he going to claim it had been a decision led entirely by his _head_? That it had been nothing but his _enormous, Poindexter, genius_ _ **brain**_ which had led him to spontaneously pick up and move back _halfway around the world,_ with Franziska Von Karma?!

Phoenix sucked in as deep a breath as his congested lungs would allow, finally opened up one dark circled eye, and glared.

"You mean like _you_ do?"

"Like any logical person, Wright," Edgeworth replied primly, making Phoenix wish he wasn't as weak as a kitten, because otherwise he would have completely forgotten that he was a pacifist by nature, launched himself right then and there at the _preachy prosecutor_ , and _choked him with his own cravat!_

The dark-haired legist opened both his eyes then, the bags underneath them proof of his sleepless state over his current plight. A plight that his _oh so quick to judge_ 'friend' had no idea about whatsoever! He would _love_ to see just _how rational_ Edgeworth _himself_ would be if _he_ were the one lying helplessly in a hospital bed, knowing he still had to contend, _simultaneously_ , with the following harrowing scenarios:

The woman _he_ loved – yet again! – was trapped somewhere, and may have her life in jeopardy

The little girl he loved as his own daughter was missing as well and her life also could potentially be in peril

A children's book author and illustrator, a kind, seemingly harmless, a woman of evident saint-like patience (as she had taken _Larry Butz_ under her wing as her protégé) _who the child had completely idolized_ , had been inexplicably and brutally murdered, and there was a _horrific possibility_ that both Pearls and Maya were still trapped on that remote mountainside with the killer

That his psychotic, serial killer, ex-girlfriend Dahlia, who supposedly had been hung for her heinous crimes five years ago, magically appeared to be _very much alive_ , _somehow_ … in the form of the demure shrine maiden residing at Hazakura Temple, now going by the name of Iris, who was the accused murderer of the crime!

"Edgeworth, you _freakin' hypocrite_!" He seethed, his eyes boring holes into the other man. "You and Franziska wouldn't even _be_ together now if you hadn't followed me and Maya's advice _to follow your heart_ …and _her_ , back to Germany!"

Edgeworth's cheeks reddened, and he looked away guiltily.

"You got me there, Wright," he replied humbly. "It was never my intention to try to make you over in my own image or to not give credit where it is due about you and Miss Fey's assistance with getting Franziska and me together. Our sincere thanks for that. I merely wanted to ensure that you'd be more careful in your actions henceforth, as neither one of us would ever want to lose our favorite courtroom adversary."

Translation if Edgeworth were a normal human being with easily expressed emotions, and _not_ an android _: I'm sorry Phoenix. No, I'm_ _ **not**_ _trying to turn you into me. I realize that you and Maya are the reason Franziska and I got together, and I am forever indebted to you for that, nor can I ever thank you enough. You're my oldest, dearest friend, and I wish you would be more careful, because you mean a lot to me, and I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you. Moreover, I'm not just saying this out of concern of losing you because you are my favorite courtroom rival, but because you're my best friend, and I love you._

The defense attorney's defensive expression softened. He was still getting used to how similar but separate he and his friend were, despite sharing the same values and being champions for justice and truth. On the surface, Edgeworth would always claim that Phoenix Wright was a _hot-blooded,_ _overly passionate_ , _emotional basket case_ , whereas the other man would tell anyone that would listen that Miles Edgeworth was an _ornery tight-ass_ who suffered from the worst possible case of _alexithymia_ known to man! But that didn't matter, because time and time again, the prosecutor proved to his childhood chum that underneath his lofty exterior was a heart of gold, unwavering loyalty and that just because he couldn't _express_ his feelings, it didn't mean he didn't _feel_ them.

 _He's proven to me that even in adulthood, he's the same great kid that defended me in class. He'll always stick up for me in front of others, even when he knows I was wrong. Then privately, he'll let me know what he really thought and how I should have behaved differently, who I should apologize to, how to avoid repeating the mistake, and I'll listen to him. Sometimes, he can lose his temper and be a right_ _ **prat** _ _, and then it will be_ _**my**_ _turn with the sage advice, and_ _**his**_ _turn to listen to me. It's how we roll. Edgeworth and me – we're friends no matter what._

"You're welcome, Edgeworth, don't sweat it. I know if the roles were reversed, you'd do the same for me. I shouldn't have jumped down your throat like that. I know you're just looking out for me," Phoenix sighed. "It's just hard to keep it together with this particular predicament… "

"I don't know much about your current situation," his friend admitted. "I have to go meet up with Larry at the detention center after this, and we both know however noble his intentions, he's not exactly the most _credible_ source of information. If you are willing to tell me about it, I'm willing to offer you my assistance in any way I can."

" _Really_?" Phoenix eyed him with a mixture of skepticism and hopefulness. "You aren't pulling my leg here?"

"I thought you'd know me well enough by now, Wright." Edgeworth crossed his arms and tapped his finger. "I rarely make jokes, and especially not about matters of such importance. Now, you can tell me what's been going on in my absence, or I shall take my leave."

"Wait, don't go! Sheesh, I'll tell you!"

Phoenix went on to explain the details of events that had transpired: the medium special training course Maya had wanted at Hazakura Temple, meeting Sister Bikini and Elise Deauxnim, and the other subsequent details leading up to her murder. He bit back a smirk at the incredulity in his friend's eyes when he tried to explain the workings of the magatama that he handed to Edgeworth, who still insisted on dubiously referring to hidden secrets as "psycho locks" instead of "psyche locks."

"I know this is a lot to take in right now." His face was earnest. "However, I've _never_ bullshitted you before, and I'm not about to start _now_. You _have_ to believe that."

The chess lover arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Edgeworth, you can go ahead and say I make strange choices, but they're not strange _for me_. I don't need logic to fuel my fascination with human behavior, by the worlds inside people. I am led purely by _intuition_ , not _logic_ , to try to understand and probe what's underneath the surface. It doesn't matter how much of a genius you are, or how well you know the world, or world of law, because the truth is, ultimately _everyone_ you will ever meet, will know something that _you_ don't."

"Like how to raise the dead and read secrets inside people's hearts?" The prosecutor derided, barely hiding a smirk.

" _Exactly_!" Phoenix nodded vigorously, opting to ignore the barely veiled sarcasm within the last question. "There are three things that I have learned over the years. Number one: _anything that gets our blood racing is probably worth doing_. Number two: _you will have a much more fulfilling life if you choose to be happy rather than dignified_." The rest of his words were cut off as he suddenly went into another hacking fit.

Edgeworth closed his eyes and seemed to contemplate Phoenix's words for a moment, before opening them and nodding solemnly, as he waited patiently for him to continue.

"And the final life lesson?" He asked kindly.

Phoenix locked eyes with him then, indigo against slate grey, the veracity in them as clear as day.

"Do you trust me?"

The other man appeared startled by the question.

"At this point in our lives, Edgeworth, _do you trust me_? In your heart of hearts, do you believe I know _what I'm doing_ , and _what I'm talking about_? That I would _never_ steer you, or anybody else that I care about, wrong? That _regardless of what I say or do_ , my _intentions_ are _always true_ and _never false_?"

The cravat-wearer paused for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"You have more than earned that from me at this point in our lives. Yes, Wright. I _do_ trust you."

"Then trust me when I say _this_ Edgeworth, and I say it with all my heart. _Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden."_

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey**_  
 _Detention Center_  
February 11, 2019

Seeing Iris had still been very difficult for him. Every time he'd gazed at her, which he just couldn't stop doing, all he could see was Dahlia.

"I'm going to see what I can do about getting you a reduced sentence, Iris," he mumbled through the prison glass, casting a sideways glanced at both Maya and Pearl for a moment before turning his eyes back to the teary-eyed inmate on the other side. "You have no previous record, and it's very unlikely that you would be making a repeat offense…"

"Oh, Feenie!" Her doe eyes welled up with tears. "I can't believe you're still willing to do this for me… Especially after…"

"Please don't," Phoenix muttered, swallowing back the heavy lump in his throat.

"I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me." She choked back a sob. "Even if it meant deceiving you, please believe me when I say I only wanted to protect you."

"Iris, it's OK. I understand. And I _do_ forgive you."

"Thank you, Feenie," she whispered. "That means the world to me."

He peered into her lovely eyes and mentally berated himself for not having been able to ever see the differences between the twins before. There was nothing but limpid sincerity in those orbs, and only gentle sweetness behind that smile, whereas with Dahlia, he'd only seen calculating hardness in those same eyes, and malice, thinly veiled by her saccharine veneer. _How_ could he have been _so foolish and blind_?

What did it matter now? What was done was done. Because of Dahlia Hawthorne, Phoenix had had severe issues with trusting another woman with his heart ever since. And unfortunately, Iris was part of that equation. Perhaps subconsciously, _that_ was a key factor of why he still hadn't declared his love for Maya. His uncertainty about his best friend's feelings notwithstanding, he wasn't sure when, or if, he would _ever_ be ready to put his heart on the line like that again.

The shrine maiden's cheeks reddened and she dropped her eyes, making Phoenix realize, belatedly, that he had been gazing at her this entire time.

Pearl, who was seated on his left, glared at him and gave him a _very sharp_ jab to the arm.

" _Seriously_ , Mr. Nick?" She snapped. "How can you be so insensitive and be ogling another woman, when your Special Someone is sitting right here next to you?!"

Phoenix winced, and it wasn't just from the sting of the slap. It was Maya's pained visage that felt like a kick to the gut.

"Pearly, stop that!" Maya commanded, jerking up from her seat then, and averting her eyes. "We wanted to pay our respects to your half-sister and my cousin, and now we should give Nick and Iris a chance to say their goodbyes privately."

The catch in Maya's voice was not unnoticed by Phoenix. He gazed beseechingly at her, not quite sure what to say, but hoping to _somehow_ give her some sort of reassuring look, and _in some way,_ convey that _Iris_ was no longer the keeper of his heart! However, Maya refused to meet his gaze.

"Even in prison orange, Iris is the most beautiful woman here. How could I ever fault Nick for thinking the same thing that I do; that I could _never_ compare?" She murmured forlornly under her breath, but Phoenix heard her all the same. "There's no contest."

Then she straightened up and gave her cousin one last, strained smile.

"See you later, Iris. Nick, we'll see you out front." With that, she grabbed Pearl by the hand and all but dragged her out of there as fast as she could.

Phoenix stared after her speechlessly, his heart aching in his chest at the rift and misunderstanding he had just unwittingly caused.

 _How_ had he done that? _How_ had he managed to give three females the wrong idea, and _all at the same time_?! It _had_ to be _some sort of record!_

Iris saw the distress in his eyes and regarded him sorrowfully.

"It seems I'm destined to _still_ cause you pain, even from behind bars."

"Please don't say that." He shook his head vehemently. " _This_ wasn't your fault. Maya - she doesn't know…"

"That you ran across a burning bridge for her?" Iris eyed him steadily. "That you nearly had a complete breakdown when you thought she was dead? Or that you're _desperately, hopelessly, in love with her_?"

"How can you know?" Phoenix studied her with a pained expression, too upset to even deny anything. "How is it that _everybody_ just seems _to know_ , except the _one person_ who really matters? Are you all _psychics_? _Mind–readers?_ "

"I'm not psychic, Feenie," Iris shook her head. "That mystical gene skipped _me and my equally unworthy sister,_ remember? I _knew_ … because the way you looked at her just now…" Her voice trembled. "It's the way you used to look at _me_."

"Iris…"

"It's OK, Feenie," she smiled sadly. "The past is the past. But if you want Maya to be your future, heed my words: _Nothing haunts us like the things we don't say."_

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright and Mia Fey**_  
 _Misty Fey's Funeral  
_ February 16, 2019

The entire gang banded together for Maya's mother's funeral. Edgeworth, Franziska, Gumshoe, Maggey, Larry. Iris, of course, was incarcerated, so she was unable to attend. When Phoenix, Maya, and Pearl had gone to go see her when she had been sentenced, she had sent her sorrowful, repentant condolences.

Silent drops rolled down the attorney's cheeks and drifted down onto Pearl's hair as he held the tiny, sobbing spirit medium in his arms. The tears were not for Misty Fey, for he had not known her but for a heartbeat. His tears were for his best friend. For the family that she had lost. For the burden of the unwanted duty that she had gained.

Maya still had not cried and remained dry-eyed and dignified amongst all the mourners. At one point, Phoenix left Pearl's side in the capable loving arms of Gumshoe and Maggey and went to her side.

"Are you all right?" He asked tenderly, putting a hand on her stiff shoulder. "I feel like I'm not being supportive of you because _I'm_ crying more than _you_ are. I'm so sorry."

" _I'm_ sorry that I can't be fake, Nick." His assistant regarded him with dull eyes. "When Mia died, the sister I had known and loved as a maternal figure, I cried. However, I just can't shed crocodile tears, when I never knew Misty Fey. She was like this mythical figure that everybody talked about, but I had no real proof existed. I didn't even recognize her when we were standing right in the same room."

"She loved you, Maya. Misty loved you enough to _die_ for you…"

"But she didn't love me enough to _live_ with me," Maya stated flatly. "Maybe I'm still numb from seeing her be murdered in front of my very eyes. Maybe the tears will come later. Right now, though, I'm fine. But I feel like you're expecting some sort of response from me, that I _just can't give you_."

"That's not true!" He protested. "I don't expect or want _anything_ from you, Maya. I only want to _be_ _there_ for you. _My_ parents are gone, too! It's not like I don't understand what you're going through!"

"Your parents died in a plane crash when you were in college, after knowing and loving you for 20 years." Maya shook her head and crossed her arms protectively over her body. "So no – you _just don't get it!_ It's not the same Nick. I'm sorry, but it just isn't…"

"Maya, I –"

"Miss Fey," Edgeworth's smooth voice suddenly cut in behind them.

Phoenix and Maya turned around to face the handsome prosecutor, whose hands were jammed into his pockets, his expression somber but sympathetic.

"Franziska is chatting with Gumshoe and Maggey about their upcoming nuptials, so I thought I'd steal away for a moment. I couldn't help but overhear. Please allow me to extend my deepest condolences and to let you know that if you ever need to talk..." His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat awkwardly as he regarded Maya with compassionate grey eyes. "Unfortunately… I _do_ get it."

Tears flooded Maya's vision then.

"You really _do_ know, don't you?" She whispered brokenly. "You _know_ what it's like to have your parent be murdered before your very eyes…" Small tears formed in the corner of her eyes and a slight sob escaped. "Mr. Edgeworth…"

The prosecutor was already reaching out his hand to her, and the pair silently moved off into a corner and began speaking quietly amongst themselves.

Phoenix stared after the two of them, feeling a tightness in his chest, as well as inexplicably hurt, even though he hated himself for it.

This _one_ time, when Maya needed him _most_ , he couldn't seem to get through to her. He couldn't _be_ there for her, because _he_ wasn't what she needed. While he was happy she could find solace, _even if it was with Edgeworth_ , he still felt simultaneously worthless and miserable beyond all reason.

"Don't worry about my sister seeking anything more than comfort from your courtroom rival, Phoenix."

Astonished, Phoenix spun around and found himself face-to-face with his late mentor.

" _Chief!"_ He gasped.

"Mystic Matilda told Pearly that maybe I would like to have a chance to pay my last respects to my mom." Mia smiled softly. "Plus, Pearly was so genuinely distraught; I don't think she needed much convincing to channel me to be here in her stead. Funerals aren't a place for little ones, are they?"

"No, I guess not." He gestured towards Maya and Edgeworth. The new Kurain Master was now weeping in the prosecutor's arms, and as bizarre as it sounded, he couldn't help but feel slightly envious that _he_ hadn't been the one to have allowed Maya to finally release her grief and cry. "You can still read me like a book, can't you? Was my misery _that_ obvious?"

"Seeing your best friend seeking comfort in another man's arms might sting, _just a little._ " Mia tilted her head and gave him a knowing smile. "However, I am _very_ aware that Edgeworth's heart lies elsewhere." She nodded her chin towards Franziska, who, also no stranger to parents lost, had merely nodded her head in approval at her partner's gallantry, and resumed conversation with her friends. "And so does my sister's."

"How can you possibly know about them?!" Phoenix stared at her incredulously, so astonished by how in the loop his deceased employer was that he altogether overlooked the second part of her statement.

"We dead still have our ways of finding things out." Mia shrugged and flashed him an impish grin.

"They haven't even come out publicly with their relationship just yet… The only ones who know are Maya and me, and we've both been sworn to secrecy!"

"I know _a lot more_ than you think I do." The former attorney smiled softly in the direction of her baby sister. "I also know that once all this funeral stuff is over and done with, Maya is going to need you _more than ever now_. You – you're her _rock,_ Phoenix. Maya will _always_ need you."

"That's good to hear." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "And rest assured, no matter how much she might try to push me away like she did just now, I will _always_ be there for her."

"I know Maya is in good hands with you, Phoenix." Another knowing smile. "You really do love her, don't you?"

The lawyer goggled at Mia for a second in surprise then lowered his gaze to the ground.

"Of course I do," he mumbled. "She's your baby sister. My best friend."

" _You're_ the reason that this funeral is for my mother, and _not her_." The buxom beauty suddenly grabbed his shoulder and pulled her former protégé into a tight hug. "I don't think I had a chance to properly thank you, after the trial, for saving the day as always. I knew you would. I even wrote Maya a letter telling her as much. Nevertheless, that still doesn't mean I can't let you know how I'm eternally in your debt for being my sister's guardian angel here on earth. _You're her hero,_ Phoenix. For what it's worth, Maya loves you, too."

 _Yeah as her brother/hero figure_ , Phoenix thought ruefully, shaking his head, but then he regarded Mia with intense sapphire eyes.

"Three years ago, you made Maya promise to take care of me, Chief." He solemnly took her hand and placed it against his heart. "So now it's _my_ turn to make one to _you_. As I stand before you, I swear an oath to God, and if it better pleases you, _on your mother's grave,_ Mia Fey, that no man nor woman will ever harm the hair on Maya's head, as long as this heart of mine still beats within this chest."

"I trust you, Phoenix Wright. I know I can hold you to that the promise." Tears of relief, love, and gratitude flooded Mia's beautiful eyes. "I know that you won't break this vow to always look after my sister, _because you love her that much_."

There was a fierceness to his tone as his passionate eyes gazed unwaveringly into hers. Phoenix knew he couldn't lie to a dead woman, just as he knew she would take his next secret confession back to the grave with her.

"You're right, Chief. I _do_ love Maya. " He finally professed the words aloud. "I love her more than the air I breathe. And I will protect your sister like a cloak and shield her with my body, until the day I draw my last breath, _no matter what it takes_."

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Wright Talent Agency_  
December 24, 2025, 4:45 AM

" _Maya!"_

Phoenix jolted awake in a cold sweat. Sitting up in his bed, his heart spreading rapidly, he swallowed hard, clutching furiously at his chest, hoping that by a scratch or simple graze, his heart would stop racing, and his body just might entirely shut down – causing him clarity. The fluorescent numbers of the alarm clock beside his bedside table teased him with the ungodly hour of 4:45.

 _It was all a dream. Dreams of memories from another lifetime ago. A dream that ends in nothing and leaves the sleeper where he lay down._ He harshly rubbed at his eyes with bruised palms. _But I wish you knew that you inspired it, Maya Fey, because maybe_ _ **then**_ _you could_ _ **also**_ _explain to me why it is that_ _ **I removed you out of my life**_ _for_ _ **going on one year**_ _now…and yet,_ _ **you still regularly haunt my nights, and my dreams!**_ _Not even my subconscious can be free from you!_ _ **Damn you**_ _!_

Feeling completely drained, Phoenix glanced over at his cell phone next to the alarm clock and saw that it was blinking. Apparently, he had a text that must've come in right after he'd come home from work, then completely crashed and burned.

_Feenie, you still haven't let me know if you and Trucy plan to come up for Christmas. Let me know either way so I can plan accordingly. I miss you. Call me whenever you get this._

Shit, he hadn't called Iris in a while. And yet, the angel that she was, she _still_ hadn't given up on him.

_That nun truly was a saint._

"Oh Iris, sweet Iris." Phoenix groaned and flopped back on the bed, burying his head in his pillow. "You're too good for me. You deserve so much better..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whitney Houston – Didn’t We Almost Have It All (chapter quote)  
> The Scorpions – No One Like You (chapter title)


	103. Show Must Go On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Empty spaces, what are we living for?  
> Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on  
> Does anybody know what we are looking for?  
> Another hero, another mindless crime  
> Behind the curtain, in the pantomime  
> Hold the line  
> Does anybody want to take it anymore?
> 
> The show must go on  
> The show must go on, yeah  
> Inside my heart is breaking  
> My makeup may be flaking  
> But my smile, still, stays on
> 
> Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance  
> Another heartache, another failed romance, on and on  
> Does anybody know what we are living for?  
> I guess I'm learning  
> I must be warmer now  
> I'll soon be turning, round the corner now  
> Outside the dawn is breaking  
> But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free
> 
> The show must go on  
> The show must go on  
> Inside my heart is breaking  
> My makeup may be flaking  
> But my smile, still, stays on
> 
> My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies  
> Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die  
> I can fly, my friends
> 
> The show must go on  
> The show must go on  
> I'll face it with a grin  
> I'm never giving in  
> On with the show
> 
> I'll top the bill  
> I'll overkill  
> I have to find the will to carry on  
> On with the show  
> Show  
> Show must go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on

**_Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright_** _  
Wright Talent Agency_  
December 24, 2025, 11:00 AM

_In my sleeplessness, I am drunk in silence. For hours, it has seeped into my pores, dowsing my mind in its thick toxicity. The usefulness of my thoughts left long ago, leaving these fatigued neurons to fire almost randomly and flailing without direction. I crave not to think at all. I yearn to be absorbed into the darkness that the night promised me hours ago. I so desperately want to wake up feeling refreshed in the stream of white daylight, unaware of the hours between then and now. I simply wish **to sleep**._ _Nevertheless, as usual, my wishes don't mean a damn thing, and behind these closed lids, the restlessness and wretched insomnia continue._

After waking up from his series of tormenting dreams featuring ghosts of girlfriends past, he'd lain awake for a long time in the dark – for a good two hours, thinking and not thinking, in that barren state which was not sleeping, nor yet full wakefulness, which was an excruciating strain.

_Eyes that won't close. A heart that won't stop its beating. The dark space is endless in the abyss prison that is my mind. I wish to drift away into a never-ending dream, but dreams are only a memory in this hell of reality._

Phoenix got out of bed the next morning feeling like the energy was slowly trickling out of him; as though he were leaking electricity. Taking a glance at his unshaven face and dark under-eye circles in his dresser mirror, he wryly observed that he could have easily pulled off being a walking zombie; dead on the inside, but subconsciously awake.

_Coffee_. He needed it. _Lots_ of it.

As he staggered towards the kitchen, the fragrant aroma of blueberry pancakes filled the air.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Trucy chirped, waving at him over the griddle as she flipped a fresh flapjack over. She was wearing her regular magician's outfit, but with a Santa Claus cap instead of her regular blue top hat. "Glad you're up! Now that you're finally awake, you can get breakfast while it's hot."

The hobo grunted something barely intelligible, which may or may not have passed as a greeting, and poured himself a cup of coffee, downing half of it in one gulp before slumping into his seat at the table.

"I made the hotcakes Christmas style, Daddy!" His daughter plopped a stack of pancakes onto the table in front of him and kissed him on the cheek. "See? They're shaped like little Santa hats and Christmas bells!"

"They look great, Truce." He smiled faintly. "But I'm not too hungry this morning. Maybe I'll have them later."

"Come on, you _have_ to eat!" She insisted, sitting down at the table and stuffing a forkful into her mouth. "You _always_ said breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and besides, it's Christmas Eve, and you simply _cannot_ rob me of the chance to have holiday breakfast with my Daddy! As it is, I was gonna head out to work soon and thought I was going to miss you for sure!"

"Fine, maybe just one." He speared a pancake with his fork and popped it into his mouth.

Trucy had surprised him over the years by surpassing him greatly with her culinary skills, and therefore, usually ended up taking over the cooking duties. Phoenix was sure that to anyone else in the world, his edible Santa hat tasted superb. However, this morning, for _him_ , every food may as well have been cardboard, and no amount of chewing made it possible to easily swallow. His mouth was dryer than a sandbox in summer. His brain was too preoccupied with vivid memories of the taunting dreams from the night before, as well as feeling completely short-circuited from his lack of sleep for the _fifth_ consecutive night in a row. His insomnia had magnified a ten-fold this last year, and this past week leading up to the holidays had been particularly brutal. Every time he closed his eyes and drifted off, he'd somehow wind up seeing Maya's face. Asleep or awake, his mind was like a one-track treadmill that seemed determined to torture him, and would not let him be released from his thoughts, which continually plagued him with memories of his former lover.

The pianist chased down the mouthful with the remainder of his coffee and immediately got up for a refill. It was only as he downed his second cup that his brain, at last, registered what his daughter had said.

"You're going to work _today_ , Truce? On Christmas Eve?"

"The Wonder Bar is having a special holiday afternoon performance and is closing early this evening because of Christmas. Besides, I don't really have much of a choice, right?" Trucy shrugged. "I have to pick up as many shifts as I can, seeing as how we barely made rent this month."

Phoenix grimaced, at both the reminder, as well as the aftertaste left behind in his mouth from the cheap instant grounds. The no-name stuff was gritty, tasteless, and bitter, and lingered distastefully on the tongue, but it was all he could afford. Due to his lack of sleep, he had torn through his monthly special South American roast from Godot by mid-month, as coffee was his only means of staying awake.

Presently, money was extremely tight, what with him having to support himself and his kid based _solely on their combined salaries_ , and _no more additional help from any other parties_. Therefore, to help make ends meet, he'd been forced to cut corners, even with the smallest luxuries. This entailed being resorted to consuming generic store brands with _everything_ , from toilet paper to coffee beans, and even then, he wasn't always successful.

Being skint also meant he was playing poker more than he was performing piano at the bar, and whenever possible, Trucy was working extra hours at her job, as well. Thus far, it was only by the grace of God that it had not affected her schoolwork much.

"Speaking of money that's owing, the utility bill is due at the end of the month. Have you paid it yet?"

_Oh crap, I **knew** forgot to do something!_

Phoenix suddenly found his appetite restored and busied himself polishing off the rest of his flapjack to avoid answering the question.

Noting the guilty look on her father's face, which he hadn't been quick enough to hide, Trucy hastily swallowed down her last bite of pancakes and brought her dishes to the sink.

"Don't worry about it," she said quickly. "I can just pay it through online banking before I head out. It's been Grand Central Station here while you were sleeping and you missed quite a few phone calls! Would you like your messages now, or should I wait until you're on your _third_ cup of Joe before you're coherent enough to process them?"

The card shark glanced over, the corners of his lips fighting a smirk; his eyebrows slightly raised, ready to give a mild reprimand to the teen for her unprecedented sarcasm, but then relaxed somewhat when Trucy grinned mischievously.

_Ha-ha, so Daddy isn't a morning person - never has been, never will be! She's had almost seven years to get used to this!_

"Very funny, missy. I'm as awake as I'm going to be. What went down while I was sleeping?"

"Well first off, Iris called. She wanted to know if you and I were going to go up there for Christmas." Trucy began ticking off the phone calls on her fingers. "Next, Uncle Larry called. He's back in town, and is probably here to stay, as his world art tour is finally over. He's going to be at Uncle Gumshoe's for Christmas tomorrow, and _he_ was wondering if we were going to be there. _Then_ Uncle Gumshoe _himself_ called, asking if we're coming over tomorrow, as we have every year. I told him to call back a little bit later because you were still in bed. "

"I've been meaning to call Iris back," he said gruffly, reaching for his morning paper. "I've got to let her know that I won't be coming up this evening because my work is having their employee Christmas party tonight. And as for Gumshoe…"

"Number _four_ ," she interrupted, looking sulkily at her father. "My friend Gouda called and asked me if _I'm_ going over to her place tonight after work for Christmas Eve like _I've_ done every year but I told her I wasn't sure yet, because for the last few weeks you have been _insisting_ that I'm _grounded_ from going anywhere except for work…"

"Ergo, I refuse to _un_ -ground you, just because it's Christmas, so you can stop pouting, Truce!" Phoenix stated firmly, affecting his best fatherly tone. "Or have you forgotten that I wasn't exactly about to _reward_ you _for getting expelled from school_ a fortnight ago, _right_ before the holidays!"

"I haven't forgotten, Daddy." The teen shuffled her feet uncomfortably. "However, seeing as how it _is_ the holidays, I was hoping you would stop being the Grinch just for a minute, and finally give me a chance to at least _explain_ …"

"Oh, I think your school principal explained it well enough when he called me in." Phoenix put up his hand, silencing the protest she was about to make. "I _still_ can't believe you got into a fight with another student! I'm not sure if it was a combination of you using the martial arts moves Sasha taught you a few years ago, or the shock of you also springing Mr. Hat on him, but you made the kid _soil his pants_ , Truce!"

"But Daddy – that Drew Peacock is the meanest bully in school!" Trucy protested, sniffling slightly. "Why can't you listen to my side of the story about what happened?"

"Because I am still _so mad_ at you, that's why! There is _no excuse for violence!_ I thought I'd raised you better than that!" The poker champ rose to his feet and aimed his famous courtroom finger at his daughter then, uncaring that tears were forming in her eyes. "Spare me the waterworks Truce! _How_ could you get yourself kicked out of school before the end of the first semester? Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be to find another high school within our area, to attend mid-year?"

"It's _not an excuse_!" The girl wailed, her chin quivering now. "Daddy, please, you have been avoiding this for the last two weeks, but I'm _begging_ you to listen to me…"

"I don't want to talk about this." He abruptly grabbed his newspaper and was about to head out of the kitchen, but Trucy clamped a hand on his arm, effectively stopping him, and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"You _never_ want to talk anymore!" Her eyes welled up. "You never even _smile_ anymore! You-you're just _not the same_ anymore, Daddy! What's _happened_ to you?!"

Phoenix halted then and felt some of his acrimony draining at the sight of those agonized blue eyes filling with tears, _instinctively_ knowing they were genuine and not intended for manipulation purposes, which most teens were infamous for cueing on command.

"Don't you want to hear my _defense_ about why that _douchebag_ got a roundhouse kick to the midsection?" The teardrops were trickling down Trucy's cheeks now. "And _why_ I sprung Mr. Hat on him to deliver the final sucker-punch? It was because of _you,_ Daddy!"

_That_ caught him off guard.

"Because of _me_?" He echoed, completely disconcerted.

"He cornered me before school in the front courtyard, in front of all of his mean friends, trying to look like some sort of big shot. He said ' _hey magic girl, it's been almost 7 years, has your big faker of a father been able to clear his name yet_? _Because if he hasn't by now, obviously it's because he's guilty of forging that evidence, which makes him a **low-life criminal** , just like your **other father'**!"_

Trucy was fully bawling now, barely able to brush the tears away as fast as they fell.

The anterior attorney felt as though _he_ was the one who'd been sucker-punched as he tried to digest this information.

"I _told_ him to stop." Trucy drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "I told him to get lost and leave me alone, and tried to brush past him. But then he grabbed my arm and said _'I'll bet your magic tricks are as fake as that evidence your loser bum of a father presented in court. You're both complete phonies'_! Was I supposed to do _nothing_ Daddy, while this _asshat_ , who has been picking on me ever since I turned him down last year when he asked me out for a date, insulted _both_ my fathers _and_ my _legacy_? I tried to shake off his grip, but he _wouldn't let go of me_ , and only held on harder. I had a visible _bruise_ on my upper arm, and I wanted to show it to you, but you just wouldn't hear me out!"

Phoenix felt a painful lump forming in his throat, suddenly feeling like the world's biggest shit heel. His daughter was no troublemaker nor delinquent. In fact, at that moment, right there and then, he realized that Trucy was his _only existing proof_ that he'd done something _right_ in his life, if her big, beautiful heart, steadfast loyalty, and unwavering sense of self-esteem could even be attributed to _him_ at all!

Wordlessly, he pulled the sobbing teen into his arms, holding her tightly while she wept.

"I'm sorry, Truce," he murmured, stroking her hair. "You're right. I should've listened to you. That kid sounds like a real jerk, and you shouldn't ever have to put up with that kind of abuse. Thank you for defending me, honey. I'm not mad at you anymore. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've _ever_ been more proud of you."

"T- Thank you, Daddy. Everybody's got their breaking point, and that _fart pick_ was _it_ for me!" The adolescent stormed, her tears soaking his T-shirt. "It wasn't merely Drew who did it for me – he was just the straw that broke the camel's back. It's just been… _everything_ and I just _couldn't take it anymore!"_

He drew back and placed his hands on Trucy shoulders, peering down into her face with concern.

"What does _everything_ mean, baby girl? What else has been bothering you?"

"My best friend fell off the face of the earth and completely ignored me, right up until Aunt Maggey's baby shower in the summer," she replied bitterly, her voice muffled as she buried her face back against his chest. "I don't know _what_ I did to her to make her stop returning my calls and emails, but from _March_ , up until _July_ , it was like Pearl _hated_ _me_ or something! Then, around the same time, _you_ got all gloomy and withdrawn and didn't want to talk to me anymore, either. I felt so confused and alone! I had no idea _what I did_ , to _either one of you_ , to make you both just _stop_ … _loving_ _me_!"

Phoenix swallowed hard. It had never occurred to him to think about the ramifications of his breakup with Maya on anyone else, and he felt terrible about it. Obviously, Pearl had not wanted to associate with _anybody_ that had anything to do with him, which was understandable, but while he _couldn't_ do anything about that, he _could_ certainly set things straight about the other issue that been distressing his poor daughter.

"Trucy, forgive me," he said humbly. "You haven't done _anything_! I've had a lot on my mind lately, I haven't been sleeping well, and work has been crazy! I'm sorry if I pushed you away, but you have to know that you're _my light_ and that the _only_ _good thing_ I have left in my life _is_ _you_ , baby girl!" He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. "You can doubt that the sun will rise tomorrow, Trucy Wright, but promise me that you won't _ever_ doubt how much I love you, _ever again,_ OK? I will tell you that every day, and every night until you believe me again. You're my daughter, and I love you, _so very much_."

"I love you too, Daddy." Trucy hiccupped slightly as she tried to stop crying. "I'm sorry to lay all this out on you, but with first _Pearl,_ and then _you_ acting so distant, I don't know, the whole thing seemed like _the whole world hated me_ , and _everyone_ was out to get me! It sounds so silly, but that was how I felt!" She sighed. "Don't worry about Pearl and me, we're OK now. She sincerely apologized to me at the baby shower, and explained that she's just been very busy and has been kind of preoccupied because when she's not helping Maya run the village, she spends every free moment on Skype with her new boyfriend who she met on her spring trip to Europe."

" _Little Pearls_ has a _boyfriend_ now?" He blurted out before he could stop himself, astonished by the news.

"Pearl's not so little anymore Daddy, she's a year older than me! She turned 16 in the fall!" The magician giggled slightly, her tears gone now. "She and I are back to talking and emailing, and I think we're back to normal. However, she's not coming down to Uncle Gumshoe's this Christmas, because her boyfriend came down yesterday from England and is spending the holidays with her in Kurain. She invited me to come up, of course, but I don't want to be the third wheel with her and Luke!"

Phoenix felt a jolt within him at this newest bit of information. Today was definitely his daughter's day _to pull the rug out_ from under him!

" _Luke_? His name wouldn't happen to be _Luke Triton_ , by any chance would it?"

"Yes, I think so," Trucy smiled as the realization dawned on her. "He was the famous Professor Layton's apprentice when he was younger, I believe she told me. I saw his photo, and she's _such_ a lucky girl. _What a cutie_!"

_It's a small world, after all, it's a small world, after all, it's a small world after all…_

"Hey, that would make him _the same Luke_ that was the Professor's apprentice, who you met when you went to England, so that means you know _him_ , too then, right?"

"I used to." Phoenix cleared his throat. "That was a very long time ago though. So, they've been together since spring, you said?"

"Uh-huh. Since May. Pearl is so excited! This will be her first time seeing him since then!"

_More power to them! They've still managed to see each other **twice** in **seven months** , and these two have **the Atlantic Ocean** between them! _Phoenix noted sardonically _. Funny how a couple of **teenagers** are better at this whole long-distance thing then **we** were! What was our personal best? Three times in a year and a half, if I'm not mistaken?_

"Well good for them," Phoenix said noncommittally, reaching for his newspaper again and lightly tousling his daughter's hair. " _You're_ certainly welcome to go if you want, but I don't know about going to your Uncle Gumshoe's this year, Truce. Maybe you could just let him know whenever he calls back?"

"I wouldn't want to go without _you_! Why don't you want to go, Daddy?"

"I haven't been feeling too great lately. Maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping too well, but I think I might be fighting something, which probably wouldn't make me a welcome guest in a house that has a brand-new baby." Phoenix looked away then and dropped his eyes down to the newspaper. "However, I'll be here Christmas morning, if you want to hang out with your old man when you come back from your friend's house."

"Of course I want to spend Christmas with _you_ , Daddy! Wait – _what_? Do you mean to say I _can_ go to Gouda's tonight?" Her azure eyes lit up. "You _really_ mean it?"

"I sure do," he replied, flipping idly through the paper. "Have fun, baby girl!"

"You're _the best,_ Daddy!" Trucy squealed with delight, lurching herself at him with a huge hug, just as Phoenix flipped over to the _LA Times_ lifestyle section.

And that was when he saw _it,_ in full color, right on the front page.

_LOVE IS IN THE **HAIR**!_ The large headline read, followed by the subheader, which read: _Billionaire Salon Tycoon, Longines Beaugosse is newly engaged to Maya Fey, Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique!_

Underneath all of this was a full-page photo of Maya, in a long black dress, locked in what looked like a passionate embrace with a man, who had her bent over his arm on what looked like a red carpet. His face was not completely visible, as it was facing her and turned away from the camera. Beside the couple's photo, from what looked like a company business profile, was a headshot of Maya's smiling visage, next to another one of a handsome blond man, who looked like a _live-action Ken Doll_.

" _Maya Fey_!" Trucy exclaimed excitedly, tapping her finger against the photo. "She used to be your assistant, right Daddy?"

Phoenix nodded mutely, incapable of speech at that moment as he just stared at the photo, openmouthed. His brain formulated no thoughts, other than to register that he was utterly _floored_.

There were several quotes splashed around the borders of the page.

_The exclusive first photo is **seen here first** , of the secret lovebirds on a romantic trip to the Cannes Film Festival!_ _Find out all the details on page 3!_ _The ring! The romantic proposal_! _The intimate personal details of this match made in heaven, as told by 'a close inside source'!_

"She looks like a _movie star_ ," the teen breathed, her eyes shining with admiration. "You never told me she was _so pretty_ , Daddy!"

He closed his mouth, and then looked at his toes before glancing back up to catch her eye.

"I guess so," was all he could say.

At that moment, the phone rang, and Trucy bounced away to answer it while he sat there, completely dumbfounded, trying to digest the news. He flipped open to the referenced third page of the paper, barely registering that his hands were shaking. He supposed he could attribute that to three cups of coffee on slim-to-no sleep taking its ugly toll.

_The 30-year-old philanthropist tycoon, of the successful **You Blo Me** blow-dry salon chain proposed to the delighted Kurain Master, 27, last night on a romantic trip to the Eiffel Tower in France, the very country where this worldwide exclusive Cannes photo of the duo was initially taken…_

"Daddy," Trucy's voice suddenly broke into his thoughts. "Daddy, the phone – it's for you. It's _Uncle Gumshoe_."

No response from Phoenix.

"Daddy?" His daughter's sweet voice sounded confused and slightly anxious now. "Daddy, are you OK?"

_My heart still beats, but against a chest that feels hollow,_ Phoenix's mind was spinning. _My eyes still see, yet the world that is so close around me seems far away. My mind begins to shut down, unwilling to think anymore. Perhaps this is a shock because I dreamed of my ex, merely **the night before** , only to wake up to **this** , the morning after! I'm not quite sure…._

" _Daddy_!" Trucy sounded exasperated as she waved the cordless phone at him. When he _still_ didn't reply, she pressed the receiver into his hand and forcibly lifted it to his ear, giving him a pointed look as she did so. "Talk to Uncle Gumshoe, please! You can let him know about Christmas _yourself_ since _he's on the phone it right now."_

While still in a daze, Phoenix raised the phone to his head but still couldn't find his voice.

"Hey, pal!" Gumshoe's familiar loud boom in his ear finally snapped him out of his trance-like state. "Are you there?"

"Hey, Gumshoe." He cleared his throat and forced himself to sound as neutral as possible. "Yes, I'm here. What's up?"

"Long time, no speak!" Gumshoe chuckled. "I was a little bit worried about you for a while, it was like you fell off the face of the earth, _again_! Have you been getting my calls and messages?"

"Sorry about that." The hobo slapped the newspaper shut and dropped it back onto the table. "I know you've called a few times… Just been crazy busy with work and everything. I _tried_ to return your call last month sometime, but Maggey said that you'd gone away somewhere."

"Um, yeah, I had to make an unexpected trip abroad…" Gumshoe mumbled awkwardly. There was a pregnant pause as Phoenix pointedly didn't pry for more details, and the police chief appeared reluctant to give any.

There was an uncomfortable silence on the phone as the other man was struggling to find the right words for his next line of conversation.

"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something…" Gumshoe coughed. "So…did you happen to check out the front page of the local newspaper?"

"The _front_ page?" The former lawyer asked mildly, although he had a pretty good idea where this was going.

"Er, yeah, the first page of the lifestyle section of the _LA Times_ and the front page of the local newspaper, pal," the ex-detective mumbled apologetically, as though he were personally responsible for delivering the confounding news about Maya's betrothal.

_Proposing atop The Eiffel Tower? **Cliché much**? Oh well, it looks like Maya's **traded up** for sure! From **Pauper** to **Prince** , indeed! Got herself a **hair heir** who's more rich and famous than **she** is! Good for her! I'm certain **this** is a match the elders and The Dragon Lady **wholeheartedly** approve of!_

"Yes, I've seen it Gumshoe," he replied politely. "What of it?"

"Well, a couple of things. I guess I wanted to see if you're OK? I mean, I heard about you and Iris, so I can't imagine why you _wouldn't_ be, but you know, you're _both_ my friends so…" The other man's voice trailed off. "Maggey and I, we wanted to know, would it bother you if little Gordy were to be the ring bearer for the ceremony? Maya called this morning and asked us. I mean, if it _is_ a big deal to you, we can always tell her no, but…"

"That's very considerate of you," he replied affably, fully regaining his composure now that the initial astonishment had abated. "But _completely_ unnecessary. Maya has moved onward and upward in the world, and I wish her nothing but the best. I'm sure your son will be a delightful ring bearer."

"It's so great that you're alright with this!" The relief was evident in the police chief's voice. "I mean, considering the wife _already_ told Maya that she was going to get Gordy a brand new little tuxedo, and she's all excited about getting herself back into shape and buying a new dress and all…"

"I hope they have fun shopping for this momentous occasion," Phoenix said cordially. "Considering how renowned both the bride and groom are with the media, I'm positive it will be one hell of an affair!"

"I'm glad you're taking the so well!" The former flatfoot remarked. "Maggey was worried about your reaction, even though _I_ was sure _you'd be fine_! Still, she insisted that I call you as many times as needed to get confirmation. I told her not to worry about _that_ – I've been chasing you for the last seven months, even though you've only apparently returned _one of_ my calls, but I never gave up on you, did I?"

"No chief, you most certainly _did not_ ," the pianist deadpanned. "Kudos for your perseverance."

"I'm a cop, it's what we do!" Gumshoe chortled. "So Larry is in town again, and he's going to be over here tomorrow night. How about you?"

"That's very kind of you, but I'm going up to see Iris for Christmas."

Upon hearing this, Trucy, who had been standing in the corner this entire time while staring at her father with a pensive brow, gave a small gasp of indignation, crossing her arms while looking disapprovingly at her him.

"How is she doing, anyway? You crazy kids keeping well?"

"We're both fine, thank you," he responded pleasantly. "I'm going to ring off now, but thank you for calling and a Merry Christmas to you, Maggey, and the kids."

"Thanks. Merry Christmas to you too pal. Maybe we can catch up sometime in the New Year, huh."

"Sure thing. Take care."

The moment he rang off, his daughter swooped down on him, hands on her hips and a frown on her pretty face.

"Yes, Truce?" He asked wearily.

" _Why_ did you lie to Uncle Gumshoe like that?" She demanded. "You told me you _weren't_ going to go see Iris because you have your Christmas party tonight! _Then_ you said you were coming down with something, so you didn't want to go see Uncle Gumshoe and risk making baby Jeff sick. But _now,_ you just told him that you _are_ going to go see Iris! What gives? Why all the bluffing, Daddy?"

_Because I've been doing it so long for a living, that I just can't stop doing it real life!_ The DILF longed to retort, but considering how upset Trucy had been just a few moments ago, he decided not to rock the boat.

"Didn't you say you have to get ready to go to work soon?" He asked pointedly.

Trucy's shoulders drooped defeatedly, knowing better than to press the issue when her father became closed off like this. She turned to leave but then paused in the kitchen doorway for a moment.

"If you _are_ going to stay home after your party tonight, Daddy, I hope you get the rest that you need, so you can finally go back to being the way you used to be." Trucy regarded him with a troubled expression. "I miss seeing you smile."

Phoenix smiled softly at his daughter. "Is _this_ better, baby girl?"

Trucy bit her lip, nodded silently and turned away again.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy. See you tomorrow morning."

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
The Borscht Bowl Club_  
December 24, 2025, 5:50 PM

The moment the card shark walked into The Borscht Bowl, he spotted Tyler at his usual spot behind the bar, leisurely flipping through the newspaper. It was completely dead; aside from a couple of stragglers in the corner of the room, there was nobody else inside the tavern. The office party was going to start at 9:30 that evening, and Boris, cheapskate that he was, wanted to make sure they were open until at least 9:00, to squeeze in any extra dimes from last-minute customers popping in for a pint before heading off for their holiday festivities.

"How goes it?" Phoenix politely asked the bartender, whose head jerked up from the article he was reading, his longish, shaggy brown hair flopping backward from his face as he did so. He quickly stashed away the newspaper, but not before Phoenix saw that his colleague had been reading the lifestyle section of that day's paper. "I've already seen it Tyler. No need to hide on my account. I'm fine."

"I would certainly _hope_ so, all things considered." Tyler looked at him coolly, his normally friendly brown eyes noticeably lacking his customary warmth, which had been more and more of a regular occurrence ever since he and Maya had split up, and it was then that Phoenix belatedly recalled how fond the bartender and his wife had been of both Maya and Pearl.

"Maya looks really beautiful, doesn't she?" Without even waiting for a response, Tyler reached back under the counter and pulled out the lifestyle section, flicking his finger against Maya's photo. "But her hair's in an updo in this photo, so it's kind of hard to make out the _drastic haircut_ my wife gave her just a couple of months before this picture was taken. She called Sasha up out of the blue, and intended to hack it off at the nape."

The poker champ thought he had reached the humanly possible quota of staggering news that day, but it seemed he was wrong. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time.

_Jesus H. Christ in a chicken basket! Maya chopped off her hair? Her long, beautiful hair?_ His mind recoiled in disbelief. **_At the nape_** _?! Does that mean she's wearing a **wig** in that photo?!_

"Sasha didn't do it though. She tends to refuse knee-jerk requests that customers will undoubtedly regret right after making them because she's been in the industry long enough to know when someone truly means it, and when they don't."

The bartender's intense dark gaze nearly bored a hole into the DILF's face.

"So, Phoenix, _you_ , perchance, wouldn't happen to know what could have _possibly_ made Maya want to chop off that glorious, trademark mane of hers in the first place, would you?"

"I'm quite certain I have no idea what you're referring to," the beanie wearer answered smoothly, his expression unreadable. "Although, as it's all water under the bridge, what does it matter now?"

"I guess it doesn't," Tyler shrugged. "The point is, Maya's moved on and is happy now. She's already asked Sasha to do her hair for the big day. We think this _couldn't have happened to a nicer gal_."

The pianist raised a brow but refused to take the bait. The bartender just looked at him disgustedly, then pulled out his countertop rag and busied himself wiping down the top of the bar, muttering something under his breath that sounded vaguely along the lines of, _cold-hearted son of a bitch._

No matter. Phoenix shrugged internally. He'd certainly been called _worse_. Besides, regardless of Tyler's apparent rebuking of their previous friendship, which kinda sucked, he hadn't come over for idle chitchat, anyway. He had three hours of work to get out of the way before the holiday festivities began, and Tyler was _just_ the person who could help kick it off!

"Hey, Tyler?"

"Yeah, what?" The younger man wasn't even going to _pretend_ to be civil, it appeared.

"I need you to give me a bottle. And I'm _not_ talking grape juice."

" _You_ , drinking something besides grape juice, while on the clock?" Tyler smirked and regarded him skeptically. " _This_ is new! However, you know it's been hard enough for me to slip you freebie bottles of your regular, _nonalcoholic_ poison, never mind the stronger stuff. Or have you forgotten what a _skinflint_ Boris is?"

"Lighten up, you Grinch! It's the holiday season to drink and be merry! Put it on my tab."

"You don't _have_ a tab." Tyler shook his head stubbornly. "Now, for _friends_ _of mine_ , I never minded bending the rules, _but_ …"

"The man ain't lying, Phoenix," a familiar voice cut in then. "We all know here that Russian is so dang cheap he wouldn't give a nickel to see Jesus ridin' a bicycle! Still, Tyler, that's no reason ya for to turn into Scrooge over _one lousy bottle of vino_! Put it on _my_ tab."

The pianist turned around, and there stood Tiffany, her impressive assets aptly displayed in her sexy party dress, in place of her regular waitress uniform. The statuesque beauty's pneumatic physique was poured into a tight fitted, spaghetti strap, crimson dress, with a huge slit up the thigh. A Santa hat rested atop her halo of platinum curls.

The barkeep shrugged and handed his colleague a bottle of domestic red wine before turning to serve another customer.

Phoenix turned away from the bar and lifted the bottle in a mock salute to the pretty blonde.

"That was awfully nice you, Tiff. Much obliged."

_At least not **everybody** here that I work with now hates my guts…_

"It's the holidays, sometimes we need _spirits_ to get into the _festive_ spirits," she winked. "Merry Christmas, Phoenix."

Then she sashayed off.

He unscrewed the cap, set it atop the bar counter, and sauntered over to the piano, his lips already fastened on what he knew would be _the first of many bottles_ that evening.

One of the drunks in the corner promptly bent over at that moment and threw up on the floor.

Phoenix sighed.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright_** _  
The Borscht Bowl Club_  
December 24, 2025, 11:55 PM

In traditionally true cheapskate fashion, instead of any sort of cash holiday bonus, or even gifts for his staff, Boris had treated the bar employees to a _traditional Yuletide feast_ of _pizza and wings_ that night.

_You know, because catering something_ _even **marginally more festive appropriate** would cost **extra**!_

He opted to forsake the food in exchange for wine that evening. In an unexpected gesture of additional generosity that year, this year's staff party had included unlimited drinks, which Phoenix surmised was more _Natasha's_ influence than her husband's.

The owners had also decided to splurge on a karaoke machine for that evening's entertainment.

He sat there on the piano bench, rocking side to side, although he wasn't sure if it was since he was now on his _fourth bottle of wine_ , or if it was his body's reflexive reaction to the hypnotic tempo of Tiffany's sexy karaoke performance of the Christmas classic, "Santa Baby."

* * *

**_Think of all the fun I've missed;_ **   
**_Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed;_ **   
**_Next year I could be just as good... if you check off my Christmas list_ **

* * *

Truth be known, Phoenix honestly was unable to ascertain whether or not the bombshell's voice was any good, as by that point, he was semi-pissed off his gourd, although he was not so drunk he didn't notice that her smoky eyes were zeroing _right on him_ as she sang the last few notes of the _suggestively naughty_ tune.

* * *

**_Santa baby forgot to mention one little thing... A ring..._ **   
**_I don't mean on the phone; Santa baby,_ **   
**_So hurry down the chimney tonight_ **

* * *

**_Hurry down the chimney tonight_ **   
**_Hurry, tonight!_ **

* * *

He applauded enthusiastically when the performance was over, and Tiffany flashed him a flirtatious little wink as she sauntered off the stage and strolled towards him.

"I do believe it'd be yer turn to _rock ma socks_ off now," she said playfully, removing her Santa hat, taking off his beanie, and putting the red cap on his head.

" _Me_ , sing?" Phoenix scoffed and waved away the suggestion. "Nah! These guys hear me warble often enough when I'm on duty! I don't want to damper the evening! After all, this _is_ supposed to be a party, right?"

"Yer a funny fella." Tiffany laughed and tossed her hair. "In the six years ya been workin' here, Phoenix, yer piano playing has remained just barely subpar, but ya got the voice of a lark to compensate and _ya damn well know it!"_

Natasha came up onto the stage then, still in her customary purple dress, although like Tiffany, she had spruced up for the occasion with a Santa hat on her head.

"Is nobody more performing tonight?" She asked. "Because if everyone finished singing, then as you know, I always endink the night with holiday speech, wishink Merry Christmas and thankink all for another year good service. But since we havink this machine, this year I thankink you all with song."

Phoenix barely stifled a groan. The Russian woman's rendition of " _I Touch Myself_ " earlier that evening had sounded like a strangled cat crossed with a banshee and his head was already beginning to throb in anticipation for the next assault to his ears.

"So, I endink night singink famous Mariah Carey song, " _All I Want for Christmas_ " for you people." Natasha pointed to the DJ. "Play that funky music, white boy!"

Phoenix's heart froze in his chest.

**_What tune_ ** _did she just say she was going to sing?!_

The bars of the song began to play.

Nausea swirled unrestrained in his empty stomach. His head swam with half-formed regrets. His heart felt as if his blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. His suddenly melancholy mood hung over him like a black cloud, raining his personal sorrow down on him, which followed him wherever he went, that he'd been trying so desperately to suppress that night with the wine. And up until that exact moment, Phoenix had been mostly successful in doing so. Had even tried to convince himself he was actually having _fun_ with his coworkers that night.

Now as he looked around, even the festive colors and holiday decorations within the bar looked drab to him, and all the sounds around him begin grating on his frayed nerves.

Phoenix _couldn't_ listen to another woman sing that song. _Not tonight. Not then_. _Not after a day like he'd had_ when in _one day,_ he had already been _brutally whammed_ with _enough jarring news_ to last him _well into the next millennium_!

" _Objection_!" He shouted hoarsely, jumping to his feet and pointing at Natasha. "Stop that music!"

Immediately, the grateful-looking DJ obliged, readily seizing the music before Natasha could begin the first bar.

"Phoenix Wright!" The Russian woman narrowed her eyes at him. "What is meanink of this? You having a problem with my singink?"

" _No_!" Desperately he raced to the stage and grabbed the microphone out of her hand. "Of _course not_ , Natasha, we _all love your singing_! It's just - I just wasn't paying attention a moment ago, when you asked if we were _all done performing_! _I_ still have yet to go up and sing! And, um, I promised Tiffany that I would! It's my way of thanking her for buying me a drink earlier tonight, heh, heh."

Natasha eyed him suspiciously but then nodded slowly.

"It is fine," she announced crisply. "You singink last song this night, Phoenix Wright. But make sure you makink it _good_."

_Yup no pressure there it all!_ Phoenix felt the sweat forming at his temples. _I feel like I'm right back exactly where I was six years ago, at my very first audition to get this gig!_

Phoenix walked over to the DJ and didn't even bother flipping through the songbook. He knew what he wanted to sing.

"Are you _sure_?" The DJ asked doubtfully. "It might be kind of a _downer_."

"Just play it." Phoenix steeled his jaw.

Still wearing Tiffany's Santa hat atop his head, and trying to block out the hooting and hollering his presence on the stage brought from the rowdy blonde, Phoenix closed his eyes, waited for the music, and began. He didn't even need to look at the screen for the lyrics.

* * *

**_This Romeo is bleeding_ **   
**_But you can't see his blood_ **   
**_It's nothing but some feelings_ **   
**_That this old dog kicked up_ **

* * *

He knew every single word of this song _by_ _heart_ because _that_ was where the lyrics were permanently engraved.

* * *

**_It's been raining since you left me_ **   
**_Now I'm drowning in the flood_ **   
**_You see I've always been a fighter_ **   
**_But without you I give up_ **

* * *

Memories of the previous holiday, on this exact same date, flashed in his mind, against his will and without warning.

* * *

**_Now I can't sing a love song_ **   
**_Like the way it's meant to be_ **   
**_Well, I guess I'm not that good anymore_ **   
**_But, baby, that's just me_ **

* * *

In his mind's eye, he could see the scene as clearly as if it were yesterday.

* * *

**_And I will love you, baby, always_ **   
**_And I'll be there forever and a day, always_ **   
**_I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine_ **   
**_'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme_ **   
**_And I know when I die,_ **   
**_You'll be on my mind_ **   
**_And I'll love you always_ **

* * *

_A goddess in a bathtub, filled with bubbles, rising up from the water like some sort of exquisite Aphrodite. Glorious, obsidian hair, pinned atop her head so you could see those florid cheeks and flawlessly sculpted lips, as if crafted by seraphs themselves, glistening attractively from water beads, added further rosy clear, colour. All these features set together on a delicate, almost angelic face. Singing that Mariah Carey Christmas song._

* * *

**_Now your pictures that you left behind_ **   
**_Are just memories of a different life_ **   
**_Some that made us laugh, some that made us cry_ **   
**_One that made you have to say goodbye_ **   
**_What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair_ **   
**_To touch your lips, to hold you near_ **   
**_When you say your prayers, try to understand_ **   
**_I've made mistakes, I'm just a man_ **

* * *

He could still vividly recollect the lyrics the goddess had been singing. _That_ _song_. The one he'd refused to let Natasha besmirch: _'Cause I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight, what more can I do, oh, Baby all I want for Christmas is you._

* * *

**_When he holds you close, when he pulls you near_ **   
**_When he says the words you've been needing to hear_ **   
**_I'll wish I was him 'cause those words are mine_ **   
**_To say to you 'til the end of time_ **

* * *

What had followed that bathtub performance had been a searing kiss that he could still feel stamped on his lips every time he closed his eyes.

* * *

**_Yeah, I will love you, baby, always  
And I'll be there forever and a day, always_ **

* * *

He still remembered his exact thoughts: _I swear this woman is an expert on keeping my heart beating. Without her, I'm sure it would simply stop._

* * *

**_If you told me to cry for you_ **   
**_I could_ **   
**_If you told me to die for you_ **   
**_I would_ **   
**_Take a look at my face_ **   
**_There's no price I won't pay_ **   
**_To say these words to you_ **

* * *

Phoenix threw his head back, tilting his face up at the heated overhead light beating down his face, all the while hoping that the burning tears trickling from behind his tightly squeezed eyes would be mistaken for the sweat streaming from his temples.

* * *

**_Well, there ain't no luck_ **   
**_In these loaded dice_ **   
**_But, baby, if you give me just one more try_ **   
**_We can pack up our old dreams and our old lives_ **   
**_We'll find a place where the sun still shines_ **

* * *

_I have tried to throw her out of my head. However, she keeps coming back every night. I don't know if I should really call it a nightmare, because I always wake up before I get to see the part where I tell her I love her. Maybe I can never get rid of it, or maybe I don't want to. It's the only part of her I can hold on to. And every time I see her, I revise through all the other options I had: beg her to take me back, tell her I love her or make her swear never to leave me. But I had done none of them, and what's done is done. I can't ever change that. I let her haunt me every night, so I can still have part of her with me, and hope that one day, she will forgive me._

* * *

**_And I will love you, baby, always_ **   
**_And I'll be there forever and a day, always_ **   
**_I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine_ **   
**_'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme_ **   
**_And I know when I die,_ **   
**_You'll be on my mind_ **   
**_And I'll love you, always_ **

* * *

Phoenix hadn't given such a heartfelt performance before an audience since his original impromptu recital nearly 7 years ago. Even now, there was only one woman in the whole world who would ever inspire him to sing like this, with his entire heart and soul… Both of which he'd thought had deserted him these past nine months because all he'd been feeling within the depths of both was a hollow, aching numbness.

When the song was over, the immediate silence in that room was so deafening, you could've heard a pin drop.

Then all at once, a cacophony of applause and cheering by every single person in that room, including Tyler, who gave a thumbs up and then a half-smile, which seemed to say something along the lines of _I guess you're not such a heartless son of a bitch after all._

But Phoenix didn't care about the standing ovation. All he knew was that he had bared himself for all to see, and now he'd never felt more exposed or vulnerable. He couldn't stay there another minute.

He blindly staggered off the stage and towards the exit doors, desperately needing air. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew one thing. He _had_ to get out of there.

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Tiffany Pearce_**  
 _Outside The Borscht Bowl Club_  
December 25, 2025, 12:10 AM

Tiffany came running after him the moment he stepped outside the doors.

"Phoenix _wait_!" She called. His blue beanie was in her hands.

Panting, the erstwhile attorney turned around, chest heaving, finally realizing that if she was holding his hat, that meant he still had hers. He yanked the cap off his sweaty scalp, reveling in the cool night air flowing through his heated, sweaty scalp. His head felt like it was going to explode.

"Why did ya run out of there without even taking a bow, sugar?" The lovely blue eyes were puzzled. "Ya were amazing! Didn't ya hear all that applause? A blind bat could see ya were singing it right from yer heart… Bon Jovi woulda been proud of ya!"

The server beamed at him, then realized he wasn't looking at her so much as he was looking _through_ her.

"Phoenix… ya feeling alright?" A concerned look flickered across her face. "Whatcha planning on doing tonight?"

"I was gonna go home," he slurred, swaying slightly on his feet. "My daughter is away at a friend's house for the night so I was gonna be all by myself, and I was going to get even drunker than I already am, so I can try to forget how much I hate the fucking holidays!"

"I don't think you should be alone tonight, suga." Tiffany bit her lip and placed a hand on his arm. "How about ya come sleep off some of that sauce on my sofa?"

" _That_ is a _great_ idea!" He laughed loudly, a harsh sound, with no mirth in it whatsoever. "I guess that means _you_ at least know _your_ address? Because _I_ seem to have _forgotten_ _mine!"_

"Alright, that's enough of that Mr. Three Sheets to the Wind!" Tiffany was already waving down a taxi, then all but shoved him into the back seat before climbing in beside him as she recited her address to the driver.

Tiffany's apartment wasn't very far from the bar, although in the hobo's current state, it could have been anywhere from a five-minute ride to an hour. He was clueless as to time or his whereabouts at that moment.

The tall blonde had to prop him up like a human crutch to escort him into her building, up her elevator, and then down the hall to her residential unit. Once inside, she seated him on the couch and chewed her lip nervously.

"Ima get ya a big ol' glass of water OK? Then I'm going to get ya a pillow and some blankets for this here sofa."

"Thank you, Tiffany." The drunken musician eyed her admiringly; all dazzling and statuesque in that killer dress, and flashed his first genuine smile all day. "Did I tell you how purty you looked tonight?"

She shook her head and giggled slightly before bending over him and gently tapping his nose.

"Yer quite the sweet talker when yer drinking ain'tcha?"

"Drunk or sober, Tiffany, you are absolutely _beautiful_."

The drunken musician grabbed her hand, and with a quick tug, pulled the startled waitress down onto the sofa, who, unprepared for the action, ended up sprawled right on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist and devoured her with hungry eyes.

"Phoenix!" She gasped, her heart pounding wildly as he abruptly flipped her over onto her back so he was leaning above her on the sofa. "Wh – What are you doing?"

"Something I should've done a _long_ time ago," he replied savagely, raking his fingers through her thick curls, cupping the nape of her neck, and lifting her head towards his descending lips.

"Lord help me over the fence! This is _crazy_ …" Tiffany moaned weakly, even as her body instinctively arched towards his.

The hobo swallowed, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. He knew he should be all rational and do-the-right-thing and listen to his conscience and just push her away, but there was another side of him that he could not control at the moment, and it was determined _not_ to give him that chance.

His eyes flashed open and he growled, " _I want you_ ," right before pushing her back against the cushion, slamming his forearms on either side of her head and kissing her more forcefully than she'd ever been kissed, so firmly that she could feel his stubble scoring into the surface of her lip. He pressed his hard body against hers and she pressed back, grabbing handfuls of his t-shirt and fitting herself to him while his tongue stroked the interior of her mouth. When he drew back a fraction, she gave one final attempt at protest, with an embarrassingly inarticulate rasp.

"B – But, ain'tcha got a girlfriend?"

Sitting up, he dragged her astride his lap, cradling her head in one palm and crushing her closer with the other as he looked fiercely into her wide blue eyes, and only uttered two words before crushing his lips against hers again.

_"Not tonight."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queen – Show Must Go On  
> Gwen Stefani - Santa Baby  
> Bon Jovi – Always


	104. Can’t Fight Fey-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fate controls who walks into your life but you decide who you let walk out, who you let stay and who you refuse to let go, because faith only takes you so far, once you’re there it’s up to you to make it happen.”

**_Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Gumshoe_**  
 _Empire Bellagio, Los Angeles_  
 _Gumshoe’s Condo Suit 707_  
December 24, 2025, 11:54 PM

The fireplace was their tiny sun for the evening, casting long shadows over the rug, mimicking the warmth of the day. Cozy by the flame, the couple sat on the rug before it, their features illuminated by the flickering light, the only one in the room. Together, they stared at it, as though in a hypnotic state of peaceful bliss, holding hands and reveling in the subtle heat.

“This is so nice, honey, just you and me.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Maggey tittered, lids drooping with exhaustion. “Assuming we’re lucky and the baby doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night, I think you _may_ have me for about 5.5 hours if our eldest son’s previous Christmas morning wake-up record is anything to go by!”

“So then for the precious little time I have you to myself, I’m going to savor it.” Gumshoe turned and dropped a gentle kiss on top of his wife’s head. “I love our kids, don’t get me wrong! But it’s been so long since Gordy was a baby; it wasn’t until Jeff came along that I’d forgotten how much I took _sleep_ for granted!”

“Yeah, I’m lucky if our colicky bundle of joy lets me get four hours of shut-eye at night!" Maggey comfortably rested her head on her husband’s broad shoulder. "Tonight I couldn’t seem to get either one of the boys to sleep! Jeff was cluster feeding like crazy, and the older Gordy gets, the harder it gets each year to get him to go to bed, especially at Christmas, because he's so stoked about Santa! He’s still convinced that if he stays up late enough, he'll be able to hear the sleigh and reindeer on the rooftop! ”

“I remember last year we got to sleep in … He woke us up at _5:30!”_ Gumshoe groused, raising his mug of hot cocoa to his lips. He secretly wished it could have been spiked with a stronger substance, but as his breast-feeding wife still was unable to drink, he didn’t think it would be fair for him to indulge, either. “I think that was his personal best!”

“Speaking of the future ring bearer, you and I have a wedding to attend next year, Mister!” She playfully poked him in the side. “Therefore, if I fully intend to wear a dress that’s not a tent, I have to get my butt in gear to be back in pre-pregnancy shape in time for Maya’s nuptials! This means _you’re_ responsible for eating all those cookies he left out for Santa, _not_ me!”

“Even if you were wearing a tent, you would still be the prettiest woman at that wedding.” Gumshoe’s eyes glowed with the same love and admiration that had been in his eyes from the moment he had first set eyes on her. “No matter what, Maggey, you will always be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, you know!” Maggey blushed modestly and then nuzzled her nose against his. “You keep sweet-talking me like this, Dick Gumshoe, and I just might commit some sort of crazy action, like marry you and have your babies!”

“Ever the wise guy! Luckily it’s one of the million things I love about you!” He chortled quietly, then his expression turned serious as he cupped his wife’s face in his large hands. “Maggey Gumshoe, have I thanked you for our two beautiful sons yet?”

“Around this same time last night, when we peeped in on our sleeping cherub, and I noted that Gordy was steadily turning more and more into a miniature version of his Daddy with each passing day.” She smiled tenderly at him, even as her orbs glistened. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who gets emotional and sentimental at Christmastime.”

“How can I _not_ be? It was Christmastime seven years ago that I proposed to the love of my life.”

“I still remember every word of your proposal. You said: ‘ _when I think of the future, I like to picture us as two trees planted side-by-side, our roots growing_ _together more firmly as the years go by, and our children sprouting like seedlings around us._ _Let's make a plan. Ten years from tonight, we'll tell our children the story of how I proposed to you’.”_

She gazed at him adoringly.

“Only four more years to go before we put our older son in therapy when we tell him the story of how he prompted you to get on bended knee because he was a _special mystery guest_ at our wedding!”

“Come on! I was gonna ask you to marry me anyway and you know it!” He laughingly protested, relaxing slightly when she stuck out her tongue. “But for the record, I said one other thing before that. I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday. I told you I’d be completely lost without you because while you just saw yourself as the unlucky Goddess of Misfortune, I thought I was the luckiest man in the world to be blessed enough by fate to have found you.”

“Right! I remember now!” Her face lit up. “I said to you: ‘ _I still have to learn to love myself, but honestly, I’ve liked myself a little more ever since you came along_.’

“Maggey, I said it before, I’ll say it again, and I hope you’ll never get tired of hearing it: loving you was the easiest thing I ever did.” He kissed her tenderly. “Even when it was hard, it was easy. Loving you was like breathing. And after you said yes, you told me that I’d never need to feel lost again, because we’d found each other.”

The clock above the fireplace chimed quietly then, indicating that it was now midnight.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.” She leaned over and kissed him back. “This topic of conversation has prompted me to give you one of your Christmas presents early. I thought it was particularly important _now_ since as of this holiday season, we have not _one_ , but _two_ little house apes.” She went over the Christmas tree and grabbed a tiny box with his name on it, presenting it with a flourish.

“You want me to open it _now_?” He gawked at her with surprise.

“It is _officially_ Christmas!” She smiled shyly. “I hope you like it.”

The police chief eagerly tore into his present like an excited child, hastily discarding the beautiful, intricate wrapping paper and festive bow, and then let out a whoop of laughter when he saw the contents, quickly clapping a guilty hand over his mouth, in case he woke up the children.

Inside was a shiny gold dog tag, attached to a balled gold chain. The engraving on the back of the tag had their address and phone number engraved on the back, but on the front, circled in a heart, were the words: ‘ _If lost, please return to Maggey Gumshoe.’_

Rising his head, Gumshoe’s puppy dog brown eyes were misty as he stared into his wife’s loving face. Surprised by his reaction, Maggey stroked his cheek with a concerned frown.

“Did I hurt your feelings, sweetie?” She asked anxiously. “I thought it’d be kind of an inside joke with us, you know? I figured you wouldn’t take offense to me getting it as a dog license tag – it seemed so much more creative and unique than putting the inscription on a regular boring old piece of jewelry, but if you don’t like it, I can certainly take it back…” Her words were cut off as her husband lunged at her then, setting her sprawling backward on the carpet as he covered her lips with his own, effectively silencing her.

“Don’t you dare even think about returning the most thoughtful, meaningful piece of metal I have ever gotten from you, ever since the day you put that wedding band on my finger, Maggey Gumshoe!” He commanded fiercely, before claiming her lips once again.

Maggey wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she felt completely breathless, a situation only further compounded by the questing mouth roving insistently against hers. It was as though they were back in their courtship days all over again, and their tongues had fallen madly in love, gotten married, and moved to Paris.

“Wow,” she breathed, when the two had surely atoned for all their former years of parental kisslessness, and finally came up for air. “I cannot believe you still have that effect on me, all these years later, Dick! I wonder if this is how it is for everyone?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. I never felt this with anyone before I met you.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. That isn’t a line.” The flickering flame of the fireplace matched the burning intensity of his gaze. “Allow me to demonstrate how serious I am about that, Mrs. Gumshoe, as I also further express my appreciation for this most wonderful Christmas gift of mine.”

“Kiss me, Dick,” she sighed, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, her eyes full of love and promise. “I think if we stop kissing, the world is going to explode.”

“Seems like it,” he murmured, staring dreamily into her eyes, and then proceeded to do just that.

Heathcliff and Cathy had nothing on them.

* * *

**_Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse  
_** _Paris, France  
_ December 24, 2025, 10:00 PM

“I can’t thank you enough for coming with me on this last-minute two-day Christmas trip,” Longines said to Maya as they exited the music hall, where they had just seen the ever-riveting holiday ballet, _The Nutcracker_. Naturally, the hair heir owned personal boxed seats. “I give you my solemn vow that we’ll be back tomorrow evening with more than enough time for us to have Christmas dinner with Luke and Pearl in Kurain, Scouts honor!”

“I don’t know quite how to take that,” Maya teased. “Considering you told me you got kicked out of the Boy Scouts for giving unsolicited haircuts to all the boys, without parental permission!” 

“Let’s just say I started practicing my expertly honed crafting skills early in life, but not everyone appreciated them back then!” Longines joked. “I think the _true_ reason the parents got so steamed is that my expertly nimble schoolboy fingers gave their kids better hairstyles than the craptastic ones that they were paying their hairdressers for, or should I say, _butchers_?!”

“Perceptibly, the whole thing did nothing to shake that unshakable Beaugosse confidence!” Maya laughed. "And for the record, you don’t need to thank me again, Longines. I didn’t have any business affairs this time, seeing as how it’s the holidays but I still can’t believe that _you_ did!” 

A gusty winter breeze washed over the duo then, and Maya shivered slightly.

It was only about 2 degrees Celsius in Paris this time of the year, and she was a tad chilly, despite the wool cloak she had over on over her floor-length, rose silk Chanel gown. It was the most stunning item she’d ever owned, an early Christmas gift from Longines for agreeing to the last minute trip – at this point her friend now knew that pink was her favorite color. The slim-fitting dropped waistline dress had sparkling jeweled accents, along with shimmering gold lace, which cascaded down from the off the shoulder neckline, through the torso, down to mid-thigh. A luxurious, pastel pink, tulle overlay on the layered, flared skirt was the final addition, and perfectly complemented her gold Louis Vuitton heels. 

“I said I needed some company for _a last-minute trip_.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his sky-blue eyes as he ushered her into a limousine that had been waiting just outside the opera house. “I never said it was _business-related!”_

This revelation earned him a confused mocha-eyed glance, and he flashed an impish grin.

“I merely conveyed I was going to be making an impromptu trip to France, and if I swore to not subject you to any animal limbs or organs as cuisine, this time around, would you once again be my delightful European travel buddy?”

“Surely thou jest!” Maya gaped with amazement through the tinted window at the beautifully, lit-up nighttime view of the City of Lights as they whizzed by. “Do you mean to tell me that we flew here on your jet at the crack of dawn, on a complete whim? For no purpose, whatsoever? Just because you’re a billionaire and you can?”

“Well, seeing as how the nearly conjoined teenage lovebirds have been as thick as thieves since Luke got to your village yesterday – _your_ words not mine! – I thought you wouldn’t mind being whisked away, and taking a night off from being the third wheel.”

He gently placed his hand on top of hers.

“I know last Christmas with your ex was a very big milestone in your relationship, which made it all the more devastating when things ended just a few months later. Therefore, I thought I would try to provide some sort of distraction, for what might be a particularly painful time of year for you.”

The Kurain Master rapidly blinked back hot tears and glanced down at her lap, where her one hand lay flatly beneath his golden, well-manicured one, while her free, French-manicured one was clenched tightly into a fist. There was no way to deny the truthfulness of her friend’s astute observation, however, desperately she’d tried to conceal it.

While Franziska was easily her closest female confidante, Longines Beaugosse now filled the close buddy void in her life that Phoenix had left behind, in that he truly had become her best _male_ friend within the last eight months. It had not been an overnight process, but the kind-hearted man knew Maya very well by now. He now instinctively knew when she was happy – _genuinely_ happy, as well as when she was sad, even when she had her happy mask in place.

Since losing Phoenix, Maya would have described her heartache as a glove of ice, encasing her heart in the same way a cage encased a tropical bird. While her heart longed to fly again, to stretch its wings and soar, and see the vast possibilities of life laid out before her, it stayed locked up in its frozen prison, afraid to pick the lock or try to break the bars.

_When Nick appeared in my life, first as my friend, then my lover, suddenly all the love songs made sense. However, it was only after he left that I understood all the sad ones._

When she had first met the salon tycoon, as much as she’d been fond of him, she’d also known right away that a new relationship was the last thing she’d needed, not right on the heels of Phoenix. While Maya hadn’t wanted to rebound on Longines, knowing he deserved something real, someone to adore him until the end of time, nevertheless, the blond man wasn't taking ‘no’ for an answer. Every time she pushed him away, the hair heir gave her no resistance, but every time she fell, he seamlessly picked her back up again, without any sort of thank-you required.

Every time she'd feel she was going to break down and cry, Longines had taken her to see a funny movie or comedy club so that the only tears she’d shed were ones of mirth. Whenever she’d wanted to shut the whole world out, he’d wined and dined her at the most fabulous LA eateries, even ones she’d never even heard of before, as though sensing her heart could be healed if he first started with the appeasing of her bottomless stomach. The few times she’d just wanted to have a few drinks and lose herself into mindless oblivion, he’d arrived to fetch her that very evening. Next, he’d whisk them both on a whirlwind shopping excursion at the mall to buy each of them a brand-new outfit for the night, and then escort her to the trendiest LA nightclubs, tearing up the dance floor by her side while she tipsily shimmied and shook her groove thang until her feet ached. In the clubs, with that pulsating music, that beat, those crazy, crazy lights, she once again truly felt she was alive and real and would think: _Reality bites? Nah! It’s freakin’ awesome!_

Dancing proved to be a phenomenal way to release pent-up frustration. They went nearly every weekend Longines was in town. It didn’t hurt that Maya’s gorgeous dance partner had VIP access to all the best places, and had moves like Jagger, either! Many the time he would boogie in circles around her, leaving her in his dust!

By the end of the night, Maya would be quite drunk, knowing she should cut back, but who was counting? Certainly not Longines, who occasionally would indulge with her in a few drinks, and they’d leave the club arm in arm, wobbling down the lamp-lit alley to hail a cab. The next day she’d check out the previous night’s photos on her cell phone of the two of them and their drunken antics, and totally laugh her ass off.

_This man is too precious. It’s only because of him I’ve gotten through this past year. I simply adore him._

In that same manner, the spirit medium had only been able to endure the otherwise depressing holiday season because of her best friend. This trip had been just what she’d needed. This Christmas, she was still so raw from the previous one that she had welcomed the change of scenery, pace…country…continent.

As always _,_ Longines knew just what she’d needed. The fact that she hadn’t fallen apart thus far was because of this man, who’d become her best friend. As a compatriot and loyal companion, the Master loved him to pieces. She truly did.

“It is me, who should be thanking you, Longines, for putting up with my walls and guarded exterior for so long.” Maya raised her eyes to his face with an earnest expression. “For the longest time, I hated Nick for doing that to me, for making me so guarded. You have no idea how badly I yearned to go back to when I was ingenious enough to think everyone had my best interests at heart and meant what they said. I hate that trusting people has become so much harder.”

“You were worth sticking around for, Maya.” He said kindly, squeezing her hand. “In my life, I have learned to determine that people are like businesses, in the sense that some are worth the investment, whereas some are not. You were worth every bit of it, ergo, I regret nothing. However, because you’re so dear to me, there are few things, life lessons if you will, that I would like to share with you at this time.”

The psychic nodded and leaned forward expectantly.

“Go on,” she urged softly. “I’m listening.”

“Torturing yourself over these two things in life will most surely ruin you, Maya.” He regarded her steadily. “First: what you thought _could_ have been, and second: what you thought _should_ have been.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Longines. I truly do, even though, nine months later, I keep clawing at my skin, trying to get back to where I was before. However infrequent, though, there’s a part of me that is still plagued by tormenting thoughts. ‘ _Why did he have to be the one to teach me how to hide?_ ’ and _‘Why did he make me associate love with **this’**?”_

“Does it still hurt?” His eyes were bright with compassion.

“Yeah, a lot,” she admitted, then smiled faintly. “But it’s getting better. It doesn’t feel hopeless anymore.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, Maya.” He squeezed her hand, then tapped on the glass partition until it opened slightly, leaning forward to murmur a few French words into the driver’s ear.

The diviner hadn’t realized that the limousine had come to a complete stop. When she saw where they had arrived, her face lit up with excitement and awe.

“ _Mon Dieu_!” She gushed as she stepped out of the limousine. “That’s the Eiffel Tower!”

“So it is,” Longines replied innocently, his eyes sparkling in the manner of the glowing lit tower behind them. “I realized that when I took you Cannes, I let your cousin have all the fun in Paris, yet never give you a chance to check out France’s number one tourist attraction. This is my chance of making reparations for that, as well as for the food I forced you to dine on!”

“It’s all so majestic!” She was positively giddy as they walked towards the entrance. “I can’t believe we’re really here!”

They had just gotten into the elevator, about to ascend, when Longines suddenly blushed sheepishly and slapped himself on the forehead.

“I am _such_ a dunce!” He exclaimed. “I forgot something in the limo with Jacques – you go on without me and I’ll be right up in a minute.”

“I can wait,” She offered. “We seem to be the only ones who are willing to freeze our butts off on Christmas Eve going up there, so nobody else is waiting for the elevator. I can hold it for you.”

“No, no go ahead, I _insist_!” Longines shooed away her offer with the wave of his hand. “The view is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and I’ve seen it a million times, but there’s no reason for _you_ to delay! You go on ahead, and I’ll be up before you know it!”

“As you like it, then!” Maya waved. “See ya later!”

When she arrived at the top, she was surprised to see that she was the sole person up there, and shuddered slightly at the initial heavy breeze that washed over her. She wrapped her arms around her body, wishing she’d worn a more substantial garment than her thin cloak for warmth.

Then she peered out at the view below her for the first time and forgot about the chilly atmosphere entirely.

_To witness the elevated view of Paris at night is like being hailed by the angels. The City of Lights steals your breath away in the most magical way possible. Down there are thousands of souls whose lights burn just as brightly as the artificial bulbs. Each one of them is a star – it’s just that under the haze of everyday life, they come to forget it and believe themselves ordinary. However, like the ‘ordinary’ air and the ‘ordinary water’, they are the purity that makes the world so enchanting, so beautiful, so worth living in. Hailing from a small village, at times like this, I crave to live in a major city, to be in such a place where the sky twinkles at night with the man-made lights that guide my path! A place that never allows the deafening silence to enter my mind. A place where constant motion forbids me to wallow in self-pity! A place that has a million faces I will never know! A place where I can no longer feel bored or listless. A place where my soul meets my wildest ambitions._

She shook her head in marvel at her surroundings. It was little wonder that this romantic, glorious tower had been where the smitten Pearl had first fallen for Luke, who was now her boyfriend. The place fairly shrieked _l'amour pour tout le monde!_ For Pete’s sake, Maya could be up there with the Hunchback of Notre Dame and still probably fall under his spell, because the breathtaking backdrop would do all the romancing work for him! Heck, up here, even The Evil Magistrate would possibly appear to have some sex appeal!

 _Wait, what?!_ _Ugh, **how** did I seriously just think that about a fictional antihero on a **kiddy** TV show? Man, it has been way too long since I’ve been ridden the train to Pound Town!_

Suddenly, right behind her, came a boomingly maniacal, yet somehow _well-known_ laugh.

 _I guess Longines finally came up here_. Maya didn’t even bother turning around and closed her eyes against the now blissful night breeze blowing in her face. _All the same, I don’t think the cooler temperature of Europe this time of year is agreeing with Mr. California. What’s up with that campy, weird-ass, **cartoon villain** laugh of his? Is he catching a cold?!_

“ _HOHN! HOHN! HOHN! HOHN!_ I have found you, at last, Pink Princess!” A deep, foreboding male voice sneered from behind her.

 _Holy Jumping Moses in a sidecar!_ Seeing as how she was the _only_ one up there, the Kurain Master reflexively spun around, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull.

Maya knew she came from a rare, gifted family with mystical psychic powers. Thus far, however, said powers had been limited to necromancy and had never entailed the clairvoyant ability to mentally conjure another living creature/person and have them summoned, to appear right before her eyes!

Or rather, in this instance, a _fictitious_ character who was technically living but didn’t _exist in the real world!_

Standing before her, in living color, was _The Evil Magistrate_ from The Steel Samurai and Pink Princess TV series, who, as far as _she_ knew, did not exist outset her TV set or movie screen.

Yet somehow, there the fiend stood was, no matter how many times she blinked, and even rubbed her disbelieving orbs! All 6’5” inches of him, in his proverbial purple samurai suit, black and fuchsia cape, demonic white mask, and enormous, very real looking _katana_ , which was _pointed straight at her_ while he let out that diabolical cackle once more.

“There is nowhere for you to run, _Pink Princess!_ You cannot escape me now! Prepare to meet your fate!”

“ _Oh, my gucking fod!”_ She cried in horror. “I –I’m not the Pink Princess! There must be some mistake!”

_**I** am not a fictional character on a TV show! My name is Maya Fey, I am **very real** , and I have **no desire** to be turned into a human kebab!_

The Master realized that she had _,_ for the second time in her life _,_ entered The Twilight Zone! The last time this had happened had been nearly 7 years ago on her 21st birthday. She and Franziska had been in the bathroom at The Borscht Bowl, and her friend had been trying to convince her about the existence of one Ms. Ema Skye, whose similar appearance to Maya was so jarring that Phoenix had been swayed into taking on _her_ case, despite turning them down left, right, and center before that. Maya, of course, had scoffed at the notion that she could have a doppelgänger of such magnitude… Only to have the petite brunette waltz into the ladies’ room _at that exact moment and prove her wrong_!

So of course, the shocked and alarmed spirit medium hypothesized that she must be in some sort of alternate universe! How else could she possibly explain the fact that she was helpless, alone, and on the receiving end of a make-believe evildoers sword on the top level of the Eiffel Tower?!

 _Where the hell is Longines?!_ She wondered frantically. _I am a damsel, I am in distress, and since the Steel Samurai does not exist, I sure as hell hope my hairdresser pal miraculously appears with oversized shears or at least an enormous pair of hedge clippers as his defense weapon!_

“Spare me your lies!” The Evil Magistrate lunged towards her and yanked her towards him, wrapping an enormous arm around her tiny waist, leaving her no means of escape. “I know who you are, and I have come for you! You belong to _me_ , Princess! Forget the goody-goody Steel Samurai and join _my_ side as I conquer Neo Olde Tokyo!”

Maya was too terrified to even try to process the gibberish coming out of the bad guy’s mouth at the moment. While his grip on her was not painful, it was as hard as the iron suit he appeared to be wearing, and her impotent struggles only made him cackle more loudly.

Then, completely out of nowhere, the _Steel Samurai_ theme music began to blare piercingly into the night. The next thing she knew, the spear-wielding hero himself materialized out of the blue at that exact moment.

“Unhand her at once, Evil Magistrate!” The Steel Samurai commanded, pointing the sharp tip of his spear just inches away from his nemesis. “Her heart will _never_ belong to you! The Pink Princess is _mine_ , vile fiend!”

 _Screw you guys! I don’t belong to **either** of you!_

Maya was fuming indignantly at this Neanderthal possessive display but then decided that the wacko playing the Steel Samurai could very well be the _lesser of both evils_ , and instead affixed her most doe-eyed, pleading expression.

 _After all, The Steel Samurai at least isn’t known to forcibly manhandle a girl!_ _Sands of Zanzibar, **why** am I rationalizing any of this as though it makes any sense, or as if either one of them is lucid?!_

“My _hero!”_ She pretended to swoon, clasping her hands to her chest and batting her eyelashes coquettishly. “Save me!”

The Evil Magistrate shoved the spirit medium aside and readied his sword.

“Prepare for battle, arch-nemesis! We will settle this, once and for all!”

“I have foiled you before, diabolical one and I shall emerge triumphant yet again!”

Maya began inching her way towards the door to the elevator, jabbing insistently at the button to go down, while casting a frantic glance behind her. The two men had begun a set of very complex and choreographed fight moves with their weapons, while the music continued to play from some mysterious source in the background.

 _Christ on a Sunday would you just HURRY UP, you stupid elevator!_ She silently pleaded, to whatever forces were listening. There was no way, in her high heels, that she would make headway down the stairs, should one of these lunatics give chase!

“Victory is mine!”

She cast another furtive glance over her shoulder and saw that The Evil Magistrate was now lying facedown on the ground, The Steel Samurai standing triumphantly with one foot on his foe's back, wielding both the spear and katana victoriously in his hands. He turned his head then, spotted her attempted escape route by the lift, and let out a chagrined cry.

“Maya, _wait_! Please don’t go!”

The necromancer clapped a hand to her chest, this time genuine. Despite being somewhat muffled by the mask, the hero’s voice _sounded_ vaguely familiar...

The Steel Samurai yanked off his head, and a gleaming tumble of golden waves spilled out.  
  
“Sweet Alaskan Asparagus – _Longines?!"_ Her jaw hit the floor. “Is that _you?!”_

“Curses! This is all fucked up like a soup sandwich! I had this all planned out so perfectly, too!” He moaned. “I don’t know what to do now! Um, is it possible for you to _pretend_ that you didn’t see it was me if I were to put my head back on now?!”

“What in the world are you talking about?!” Maya gawked at him. “Planned _what?!”_

“Well, I guess there’s no time like the present, to um, _present_ …” He mumbled, fumbling into his pants pocket while sinking onto one bended knee, while his front foot remained on the poor man trapped beneath it.

 _“Oof!_ _Merde_!”

Ignoring the pinned Magistrate’s grunt of pain, Longines produced a velvet box and popped it open, revealing a glittering, _ginormous_ diamond ring inside.

At the sight of the jewelry, Maya was so bowled over that she fell back with a heavy thud against the wall by the elevator, lips still parted in shock.

“Ultimately, I have learned that we are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours. From the day that I met you, you have been the greatest ally I’ve ever had in my life. The peanut butter to my jelly. The peas to my carrots. _The Pink Princess_ to my _Steel Samurai_.” Longines gazed at her with ardent cerulean eyes. “There is nothing I can’t do with you by my side and that includes handling the responsibility of running Neo Olde Tokyo!”

He lunged forward, once again disregarding the villain’s injured cry of “ _Zut, alors_!”

“In war times or peace, in a utopian or dystopian future, whatever good or evil forces that may come, Pink Princess, will you be my fellow liege and give your hand to this Steel Samurai?”

Maya gawked at her best friend as if he’d just produced a pink, polka dot rhinoceros from his pocket and was certain she resembled a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the funfair. She could just imagine the sparks in her brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing a short circuit as she tried to process what she’d just witnessed – the most insane, over the top… _hilarious_ marriage proposal on God’s green earth!

Before she could even answer, however, the completely forgotten Evil Magistrate beneath Longines’ foot let out an agonized yowl, sounding like a squealing pig in a vacuum cleaner.

“ _Mon Dieu_! _Arrêtez_! _J’en ai assez! Monsieur_ , zees is all _très romantique_ ,” he rasped, in a very _high-pitched_ voice. “I hope _zee belle mademoiselle_ says _oui_ , _mais s'il vous plait, **retirer votre chaussure de mon dos!”**_

“ _What_ did he just say?!” Maya gasped, amazed she was only now noticing The Evil Magistrate suddenly had such an unignorable, thick _French_ accent!

“ _Sacré bleu!_ ” He wheezed. “ _Get off my back! Eez killing me!”_

“Great Odin's raven, Jacques!” Longines hurriedly removed his foot and helped the other man to his feet, which he did quite slowly and painfully, clutching his lower back dramatically as he did so. “I am so incredibly sorry! I guess I just got caught up in the moment!”

“Zat veel cost extra, Monsieur!” The driver grumbled, already trudging towards the elevator. “As veel my medical bill! _Mon pauvre dos! Maudit marques de talons_! I veel see you in zee car.”

“ _Merci beaucoup_ , Jacques!” The blond man winced. “ _À bientôt! Et je suis très désolé!”_

A disgruntled grunt was the limousine driver’s reply as he limped theatrically to the elevator and exited the scene, _stage left!_

With a heartfelt expression, Longines walked up to Maya and took her hands in both of his.

“It’s kind of hard to be in character without the mask on, so I'm sorry if the previous proposal sounded too ridiculous to take seriously,” he apologized. “Speaking to you now, Maya, as Longines Beaugosse and _not_ some fictional TV character, I assure you, the question was still _very real_ , even if the Steel Samurai _isn’t_.”

He popped open the ring box, exposing a platinum band ring, with positively _enormous_ , solitaire, Princess-cut, pink diamond, big enough to _skate_ on!

“Maya, I promise you, no one will work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than me. Life offers many challenges, and I know I can meet them if you're willing to face them with me? Maya Fey, my dearest friend, faithful companion, and treasured confidante, I madly adore you. Will you give me your hand in marriage?”

She shook her head back and forth, her mind reeling as she tried to process all this.

_I want love, but I also want to stand on my own feet. I want a relationship where we are a "we" and two separate "I’s." Like sitting on a teeter-totter. When you first get on, it’s a little scary, but you have to trust the other person won’t let you crash to the ground—that they won’t jump off. That’s Longines and I. Together, we are balanced and count on and support each other. Everything is just even—balanced. We’re both in the flow. When one of our lives is on a real high, the other holds them there, letting them ride the wave, appreciating them in all their glory— adoring them unconditionally. Together, we just enjoy the ride and the elation of just balancing life together. Nick – he let me crash to the ground. Well, I’m done with my feelings of what Longines has described as **la douleur exquise** – the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable. I want something…real. I want a best friend I can trust. Fuck passion –hugs, laughter, shopping trips, and a killer dance partner make one helluva consolation!_

“Longines Beaugosse, not only do you treat me like a real-life Princess, _you_ have been _the rainbow in my cloud_.” Maya's eyes were shining. “You too, are _my_ best friend, and most revered comrade. Words cannot express my fondness for you. My answer is yes. I _will_ marry you.”

" _Really_?" His eyes glimmered with delight. "You'll marry me?"

“I really will.” She nodded, smiling happily, as she reached out her arms to him.

The billionaire let out a loud whoop as he grabbed Maya, lifted her off the ground, and spun her around and around. She giggled hysterically as he shouted cheers in a garbled mixture in both French and English, and then gasped in amazement as fireworks suddenly went off in the background, _bright pink_ _fireworks_ , _in every shade imaginable on the pink rainbow scale_!

“ _Youpi_! _Mon cœur joyeux!_ She said yes! She said yes! She said yessssss!” Longines shouted over the loud boom of the explosive Roman candles as The Steel Samurai theme music somehow magically resumed playing in the background while the laughing Kurain master wrapped her arms around his neck. “You hear that, Paris! _She said yesssss_!”

* * *

 **** _Pearl Fey and Luke Triton  
_ _Kurain Village  
_ December 25, 2025, 2:00PM

“I swear this won’t take very long,” Luke promised Pearl, as the two teenagers walked the snowy path through the woods, hand-in-hand, towards the snowcapped mountain lake area up ahead. “I know that we’ll be having Christmas dinner in just a few hours, and I did promise Mystic Matilda that we would help out with the preparations.”

He flashed an adorable, embarrassed smile.

“Although having never had a tofu turkey before, I’m not quite sure how long it would take to roast one the oven…”

“Coming from a country where meat is very rampant in dishes, what with black pudding and steak and kidney pie, do you find the vegetarian ways of my village difficult to adapt to, Mr. Carnivore?”

Even with her teasing tone intact, Pearl’s gleeful beam hadn’t budged since her boyfriend’s arrival, brightening up her comely face to spectacular effect.

“Not at all!” Luke insisted gallantly. “It gives my arteries a chance to unclog for the fortnight I am here, and there is absolutely nothing I am unable to become accustomed to, including being the only male in this entire matriarchal village! However, I shan’t lie to you; a part of me cannot wait until Longines gets here with your cousin, so I have some male companionship! Or at least give all the ladies someone else to rubberneck at!”

Pearl wisely kept her mouth shut in the spirit of Christmas. Also, she didn’t want Luke to think she was being petty. Instead, she just thought it hard!

 _I still don’t think the village people will notice another **man** is here when Longines arrives, considering he’s prettier than **most** of its female residents!_

In all actuality, she had legitimately thawed out towards Maya’s new friend. While she didn’t think she could ever love him the way she had Phoenix, being with Luke had made her more open and had given her an unexpected maturity with adapting to new situations, and she’d finally come around to semi-grudgingly accepting him. Her cousin seemed less saddened in his presence, and for that alone, Pearl supposed she liked the blond man _somewhat_.

Layton’s former apprentice was the key factor with the resuming of her friendship with Trucy, a decision the teenage girl didn’t regret in the least, but still hated herself for not doing sooner. The former Professor's apprentice had explained that while Maya may have been putting on a brave face for her little girl’s sake since breaking up with Phoenix, the love the Master had for her was still unwavering. Therefore, if her guardian had claimed that she was OK with the two girls keeping in touch, despite the bond between her and Trucy’s father being severed, she had more than likely _meant_ it.

Also, the English lad had wisely pointed out, the teen punishing Trucy, however unwittingly, for the sins of her father, would be the cruel equivalent of _Maya_ shunning _Pearl_ herself, because of Morgan’s evil crimes, a concept the teenage spirit medium had never once considered.

Nonetheless, the spirit medium had waited until they were face-to-face at Maggey’s baby shower to make amends. She'd wanted to be able to look into her best friend’s eyes in person, hold her in her arms, and promise _never_ to let go of her ever again. It had been a very emotional and tearful reunion, but with both Luke and now Trucy once again being part of her world, Pearl had never been happier in her entire life.

Having her best friend back, Pearl realized just how desperately she had missed her, and she couldn’t wait until the other girl got to meet her boyfriend at Uncle Scruffy’s New Year’s Eve party. Before coming out on this mysterious walk in the woods that Luke had insisted upon, he and the magician had been introduced via Skype. The couple had contacted the magician earlier that morning to wish Trucy a Merry Christmas. To her delight, Luke and Trucy had gotten on famously, and the duo had chatted with her for nearly an hour before they’d let her go. Luke had wanted to say hello to Phoenix, but his daughter had quickly explained that she was presently alone and that Daddy had stepped out to the store.

Pearl’s best friend was blissfully unaware that the spirit medium’s magatama had immediately enabled her to see the psyche locks that had materialized when Trucy had uttered the presumably harmless fib. Wisely, Pearl had kept mum about her knowledge of the little white lie. While she adored Trucy, Phoenix’s comings and goings were no longer her concern, though deep in her heart she knew she would always care about him, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual. Besides, a part of her was saddened that Trucy was alone at 9:00 on Christmas morning, because wherever her father was, his absence from the apartment most certainly was not because he had stepped out for an hour-long errand, not on the one day of the year when nearly everything was closed!

“This forest is pretty big,” the youngest Fey commented, impressed with the area expertise knowledge her boyfriend exhibited as he led them to their destination. “You must’ve really had a chance to explore it in depth when you woke up to take your daily sunrise stroll.”

"It's been my daily morning ritual ever since I was a young lad. It clears my head and helps me get ready for a new day.” He gave an embarrassed grin. “Truth be known, you’re right, the surrounding area _is_ a lot bigger than I thought and I _did_ get lost a couple of times! I had to ask a couple of squirrels and chipmunks for directions on how to get back to the village!”

“I was surprised you chose to go alone, though.” She giggled at the image of her boyfriend being Doctor Doolittle. “I usually wake up pretty early myself, to meditate. Your room is right next to mine, so why didn’t you come to knock on my door? I would’ve been happy to join you.”

“Um…” Luke suddenly appeared nervous, and awkwardly scratched at his news cap. “I wanted to see if my ability to communicate with animals was the same in America as it is in England, should the need have arisen. And ha-ha, it _did_! The local creatures here can understand my British accent with _no qualms whatsoever_!"

Immediately, a psyche lock, bright and red, with thick chains, appeared before Pearl’s vision. 

_OK, this is now the **third** person I've caught keeping secrets from me! _The spirit medium was both annoyed and bewildered. _Why is everyone around me lying to my face?!_ _Especially, my **boyfriend**?!_

This most recent hidden truth bothered her the most. She and Luke told each other _everything!_ He knew her mother was incarcerated! _She_ knew all about his adventures with the professor in his youth, some of which had even been _death-defying_ and consequently left him with a few lingering phobias of such innocuous things like _suits of armors_ , due to his paranoia they would suddenly _spring to life and attack_! So _what the heck_ was he hiding from her _now_?

They finally reached the clearing, with Pearl still mulling over her other half’s secrecy, as Luke turned and beamed at her.

“I wanted to give you your Christmas present in private,” he explained. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s a good thing that I thought to bring yours with me, and that it’s compact,” Pearl answered, fishing into her jacket pocket and handing him a tiny box. “My gift requires a short explanation, but I do hope you like it.”

Smiling, Luke lifted the lid and found a bright blue magatama made of Lapis lazuli.

“This is so pretty!” He held it up to his eye like a magnifying glass and peeked at her through the hole in the loop. “Is this thing _glowing?!”_

“It’s a magatama,” Pearl explained, her cheeks reddening slightly. While Luke was very well aware of her spiritual powers, she had never really explained psyche locks to him and she hoped that he wouldn’t think the premise silly or unbelievable. “You know that all members of the Fey clan wear one, and it’s charged with my spiritual energy. I know you deal with animals, which don’t normally tend to lie, but this mystical gemstone allows you to see a secret someone might be hiding in their heart, so you’ll always know if somebody is being truthful or not.”

“I see.” Luke inspected the 9-shaped stone with admiration. “This is so neat! So it’s kind of like a built-in lie-detector?”

“Something like that.” Her cheeks turned even pinker. “A long time ago, I gave the one that belonged to Mystic Maya to Mr. Nick, and the entire time they knew each other, he said he kept it with him always because it reminded him of her. This sacred symbol is very special to my family, which we only give to those very dear to us.”

Staring down at the snow, she shyly traced a design on it with the toe of her boot.

“I hope you don’t think it’s silly or weird. We’re apart most of the year, and it seems like every time we part, you take a piece of me, Luke. This time, when we have to go our separate ways, I guess I wanted you to have a real, tangible part of me to take with you, so maybe you'd feel like I'm always with you. Because … I always carry you in my heart.”

Luke had already been touched by the gift before she’d even gone into her explanation. He had already known for some time now that Pearl Fey was one in a million. She always had about her that look of otherness, of eyes that saw things much too far and thoughts that wandered off the edge of the world, far surpassing those of most others. Now, as he observed her downcast visage, his heart swelled even more, which he hadn’t thought was possible.

 _Pearl Fey_ , he longed to say. _Being with you is the only antidote I have to this world. Leave me and you will take the best part of me with you. Without you, I'm not **me** anymore, for I am incomplete. When I wrap you in my arms, I wish you could promise to never let go, ever. In return, I'll never let go of you, love you, defend you, keep you safe. If in all this cold universe, there is only you who I can truly love, it is enough. You are the spark to my flame, the one who keeps me burning when logic decries my light should have been extinguished long ago._

“I love it,” he said huskily and drew her closer to him. “Thank you.”

Knowing he didn’t yet dare to say these profound words on the tip of his tongue, instead Luke cupped her chin with his hand, and holding her face toward his, lowered his lips to hers and gave her the faintest whisper of a kiss. 

As she felt him brush her hair back with his gentle fingers and kiss her gently, there was something about the tentativeness of the brief touch of his lips that made Pearl feel so beautiful. Without even speaking, she could understand how genuinely happy he was at that moment, as well as how deeply moved he was by her gesture and words. And deeper than any of that, as he enfolded her into his strong arms, she sensed that he adored her.

His body was so familiar to her already, even the sound of his heart beating, but this was the first time she’d _felt_ it, lean and hard muscle against her slender frame. 

_Luke Triton, being in your embrace is a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. I wish I could extend this moment, just so I could stay close to you for longer, safe in your embrace. Your arms wrapped right around me bring a peace I've never known before, a calming of the storms in my heart. You have brought light where there was once only darkness, a lone star in an otherwise empty sky. I think it's you that gives me hope for the future. In your arms, I start to believe that there is nothing out there to fear, that all there is sunshine, beautiful trees, and kind people. You alone are all I will ever need._

“It’s your turn now.” He rested his chin on top of her head, loath to release her. “Would you like your present now?”

“You _do_ know Luke, that you being here with me is the greatest gift of all.” Her eyes glowed. “However…” She tilted her head to the side and flashed a sweet smile. “Who am I to refuse the gift if it came from the heart? And if it’s coming from _you_ , I know that’s _exactly_ where it’s from.”

He nodded, his dark eyes dancing as he drew her away from her, put two fingers to his lips then, and whistled.

In the next moment, Pearl Fey felt as though she was a Disney Princess in an enchanted fairy tale come to life.

The teens may as well have burst into singing "Love is an Open Door" from _Frozen_.

There was a stirring in the trees, and a rustle in the bushes, and then the next thing she knew, various woodland creatures approached them, everything from rabbits to foxes to chipmunks to squirrels, all happily chattering amongst themselves as they formed a perfect circle around the couple. An adorable fat raccoon waddled over to Pearl, a small gift box in its little paws. It turned to Luke for confirmation, saw his nod, handed it to her, and then headed back to its place in the circle, this time making sure there was a medium-sized space on one side of it so that it wasn’t completely closed off.

In the next moment, dozens of Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds and Mountain Bluebirds flew overhead and hovered in the air overhead, forming an enormous blue and red heart shape with their tiny, fluttering bodies.

“Oh my…” Her hands flew to her cheeks. “This is the cutest, most incredible thing I’ve ever seen…”

“You haven’t seen _anything_ yet!” He whistled once more.

There was a faint ringing of what could only be described as sleigh bells, and then a beautiful, harnessed stag and doe appeared, pulling a wooden sled behind them, atop which sat a large package with a big red bow. The deer pulled the sled into the circle, coming through the gapped space left within it, and stopped just a few feet away from the couple. Luke walked over to retrieve the box, which, unless Pearl’s eyes were deceiving her, appeared to be…moving?!

Glancing down at the ground, the spirit medium realized that when her hands had flown to her face, she had accidentally dropped the gift box that the raccoon had so thoughtfully presented to her, and bent down to retrieve it from the snow. It had fallen open, and as she picked it up, she saw it was a beautiful, but tiny, artfully woven purple bracelet of some sort, with a heart-shaped tag on it, and what appeared to be an engraving, finely etched on it. She squinted, as the glare of the morning sun against the silver metal made it difficult to read, but as she cupped her hand over it, she made out the words written on it clear as day.

_I love you._

There it was, in writing, the very words her heart had been singing, almost from the first moment she had first set eyes on Luke Triton. And it seemed like _he_ felt the same way! She swallowed back the sentimental tears forming in her throat and found herself too choked up to speak.

“Zounds!” Luke turned around from the sled, the large box in his arms, his face distraught. “You were supposed to open this one first!”

Confused by his reaction, Pearl let the bracelet fall slack in her fingers and nodded mutely, her arms already reaching out to take the enormous parcel from him, which now appeared to be making little yipping noises. Puzzled, but curious, she lifted the lid off the box and reached inside, only to pull out a miniature version of _Constantine_ , The Wonder Pup, from its contents!

Several thoughts hit Pearl’s mind at the same time. First of all, the bracelet she had opened was a dog collar for this gorgeous little puppy, a pint-sized, button-eyed bundle of white fluff that was now in her arms, happily wagging his fuzzy little tail. For a split second, her heart sank, as she realized the I love you on the collar had been an intended message from the puppy to his new owner, and not from the gift giver to the recipient, after all!

She did not have time to dwell on this anymore, however, as Luke was already chattering animatedly, and the puppy left no room for her to have anything but merriment within her heart as he repeatedly licked her nose with his tiny pink tongue. It was the most wonderful, magical, incredible Christmas gift in the whole world. In the same manner, as when she had met the puppy’s father, Pearl completely dissolved into a helpless pile of goo. It was love at first sight for both puppy and owner.

“I had to wake up extra early this morning to meet with the delivery man who brought this little guy over,” he was saying. “I had him shipped over from England. You see, I couldn’t bring him with me on the plane because we had to ensure we had all the shots and certifications, which took a few days. Constantine is so beloved by Barnham, but he’s also getting older, so my friend wanted to make sure a part of the canine would always be with him, so in the summer, he started scouting for another Bichon Frise to breed him with. He’s keeping all three, except for this one, who is two months old now. I told him how Constantine was a big part of our meeting, but more than anything…”

Luke loped over to Pearl then, and placed one hand on her shoulder, while the other one gently stroked the puppy.

“I guess great minds think alike, Pearl. Because when I go this time, I guess I wanted a part of me to stay with you, too.” His voice trembled. “I asked Maya’s permission, of course, before I did this. Also, Sister Bikini loves him so much – she was babysitting him all morning from his arrival until now – I had to essentially pry him from her overly loving arms! She also said she would be delighted to puppy-sit whenever you and Maya have to go out of town on business. I – I hope you like him.”

“I _love_ him, Luke. Thank you so much! He’s so… _perfect!"_ Tears of joyfulness filled her eyes as she smiled down at the squirming bundle of fur in her arms. "I promise you, little one, that I will be the best mommy in the world to you!”

“What are you going to name him?”

“Hmmm….” Pearl absently stroked the puppy’s fur as she pondered, then flashed a radiant smile. “I think I’m going to name him Feyt. F-E-Y-T. Because that way, he’s a part of us _both_ , and after all… _fate_ is what brought us together, Luke.”

The chap thought his heart would surely burst with jubilance at that moment. He couldn’t speak, even though inside his heart was silently crying out the words he wished his lips could say.

Shifting the puppy into one arm, she raised her free hand to stroke his cheek and looked at him apologetically then.

“I’m sorry I opened the wrong box first, Luke. I thought it was a _bracelet_ at first! It was an accident, I swear! I never meant to ruin the surprise of this little guy’s message to me.”

 _What a silly, wonderful, non-presumptuous angel of a girl!_ Luke was astounded by his girlfriend's lack of guile. _I swear I couldn't love her more than I do right now, and yet I know I will tomorrow..._

“It wasn’t from him.” He swallowed nervously. “I – I mean, I have no doubt that Feyt does love you already, but it wasn’t intended to be a message from _son_ to _mommy_. It – it was a message… from _me_ to _you.”_

Pearl’s heart somersaulted inside her chest, and her mouth fell open at the unexpected revelation.

“Pearl Fey, I love you.” Luke regarded her with limpid brown eyes. “I love you, with no beginning, no end. I love you as though you have become an extra necessary organ in my body. I love you as only a boy could love a girl. Without fear. Without expectations. Wanting nothing in return, except that you allow me to keep you here in my heart, that I may always know your strength, your eyes, and your spirit, that gave me freedom and let me fly." He took her palm then, and just like that day back in the Scottish fairytale castle, placed it against his heart. “Regardless of where I am, whenever I'm with you, you make me feel like I am home again. Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am _whole_ again.”

She was too choked up to speak. Aside from Maya, and a long time ago, Phoenix, nobody had _ever_ told Pearl they loved her, not even her _mother_. Tears of joy rolled down her pastel cheeks, but she couldn’t utter a word in response. Her heart was too full.

Luke leaned forward then, and Pearl knew what was coming and bashfully glanced away, then peeked up at him through her lashes.

His hand reached under her hair, below her ear and his thumb caressed her cheek. As he stepped closer to her, he saw her glistening eyes mirrored his own, and suddenly, although she hadn’t said a word yet, Luke saw the answer he so desperately was seeking in the gray depths, which revealed more than her words could express, and he knew the feeling was mutual.

His lips parted, and their breaths mingled. With his hand laying atop hers on his chest, Luke gazed at her beautiful face, then, with his free hand, allowed his restless fingers to touch her hair. He stroked her cheek and her lips parted, his thumb tracing a line along her lower lip. He could feel her quickened breath on his thumb, signaling her need to feel his lips on hers. They paused, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Pearl swallowed and held her breath, her eyes searching his as he leaned into her, his lips drawing near, her lips parting to receive them. He stopped inches away, his eyes drifted down to her lips as though he were savoring the moment. Her heart fluttered as he drew her closer, then slowly, inexorably, he pressed his lips to hers. It was soft and gentle and perfect.

A warm, glowing feeling filled her, spilling out from Luke’s heart and the warmth of his lips on hers and rushing to every corner of her body: the cracks in between her toes, the crooks of her elbows, the tips of her ears. Every inch of her was saturated with love. They stared deeply into one another’s eyes as they parted for a split second, and then slowly leaned in once more. When their lips finally met again, something like magic ignited, and the kiss deepened.

Luke trailed his fingers across her cheek. Pearl remained perfectly still as she reveled in the exquisite gentleness of his touch.

 _“Luke.”_ His name sounded like a prayer on her lips.

“Say my name again,” he breathed.

She closed her eyes and leaned forward. _“Luke.”_

“Pearl?” He took her soft, tiny hand into his, loving how those perfect hands fit his just so and leaned down towards her.

“Yes?” Their foreheads touched.

“Will you please tell me you love me?” He whispered hoarsely. “I’m dying here.”

And then they were both laughing. And then Pearl placed Feyt down and was in Luke's arms, and once again, they were kissing, at first quickly—to make up for the lost time—and then slowly, because they had all the time in the world. And Luke Triton’s lips were honey-sweet, and the careful, passionate way he moved them against her own enlightened Pearl that he savored the way _hers_ tasted, as well. And in between kisses, she told him she loved him. Again and again and again.


	105. Dead Or Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fall, you rise, you make mistakes, you live, you learn. You're human, not perfect. You've been hurt, but you're alive. Think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive—to breathe, to think, to enjoy, and to chase the things you love. Sometimes there is sadness in our journey, but there is also lots of beauty. We must keep putting one foot in front of the other even when we hurt, for we will never know what is waiting for us just around the bend.

**_Trucy Wright_** _  
Wright Talent Agency_  
December 25, 2025, 9:05 AM

_Did either one of them believe me? I sounded so… **Guilty**._

Trucy sat before the office computer, staring at the blank monitor for a full five minutes after signing off video chat off with Pearl and Luke. Her conscience gnawed at her like a ravenous sewer rat, castigating her for lying to both her best friend and her boyfriend about where her father was that morning. Not anticipating the question, when Luke and asked if he could say hello to Phoenix, without thinking, and for lack of a better immediate excuse, the magician had blurted out that her Daddy had gone to the store. Even if she had been further pressed on the issue, however, Trucy wouldn't have known what to say.

Because she honestly had _no clue_ where her father was!

The combination of her guilt for fibbing regarding Phoenix's whereabouts, coupled with the genuine lack of knowledge of where he could possibly be was slowly driving her insane.

When she had been dropped off at her home at 8:00 AM that morning by Gouda's father, she had fully anticipated that after a holiday company party, her _never been a morning person_ father would still be in bed, sleeping off the effects of the night before.

Trucy had planned to quietly slip in, prepare a terrific holiday breakfast for the both of them, and give her father his Christmas gift, which was a brand-new shaving kit. Her 'DILF' Daddy was looking pretty scruffy lately! (At 15 now, she knew what that word _actually_ meant, and was beyond mortified at what wanton jezebels she'd had for elementary school teachers!)

The gift had been as much for _her_ as well as Phoenix. She knew that he'd barely been using his old, dull-looking blade lately, but hoped if presented with a shiny, new, silver razor, with changeable blades, he'd finally ditch the Canadian lumberjack look and get the incentive to want to clean himself up a little! The set came with a nice leather bag, including sandalwood shaving soap and aftershave, as well as a lathering, boar-bristle brush, too! After all, how was Daddy supposed to find her a Mommy when he walked around looking like an unsmiling _and_ unshaven hobo? Trucy had been making a new Mommy her number one request for the nearly the past seven years, on both her Christmas _and_ birthday wish list, not even opting for subtlety anymore.

Her parent had simply smiled wanly each time and stated that _he_ wished she'd ask something more reasonably attainable, like a Barbie doll, or as she got older … A _pet_ of some sort!

With their shoestring household budget though, she was sure the only one they'd be able to afford was a pet _rock!_

It wasn't that he was _purposely_ trying to deny Trucy her fondest wish, the pianist patiently explained to his daughter on numerous occasions. It was simply the fact that women were generally _not_ lining up to date a "disbarred former defense attorney turned second-rate pianist."

The idealist magician tenaciously remained undaunted. For one thing, her ever-humble Daddy was nowhere near as bad a piano-player as he thought he was! She remembered hearing him practice _one_ particularly sweet-sounding song on his keyboard, every night, for several _weeks,_ leading up to last Christmas, when he thought she'd been in bed. Trucy had gotten up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and had secretly listened to Phoenix singing along to the tune he was playing downstairs in the office with a smile on her lips. The song was from a band whose music was _way_ before Trucy's time, called Journey. Looking up the ballad, "Faithfully" on YouTube, she was astounded to hear what a comparatively ariose singing voice her father had! Why didn't he croon at the bar more often? Indisputably, should any available woman had heard what a golden-throated lark he was, she'd most certainly swoon, so that'd be a huge point in her Daddy's favor!

_My supposedly average pianist father is a secret songbird, it seems. What else has he been hiding from me?!_

There was also the fact that when Phoenix shaved, showered, _and_ smiled, Trucy's father was the most handsome man she knew! Who cared if he didn't drive or have a fancy house or job? Her Daddy was a good person, as well as a great singer! Somewhere out there in the world, there _had_ to be a special sort of lady who wasn't superficial, and didn't care about stupid things like jobs and status! The teen was certain out of the over seven billion people on earth, surely there must be _one_ woman worthy enough to find a place in Daddy's heart! Besides, if _prison_ _inmates_ could get married, then her _father_ could, too!

On Christmas morning, however, from the moment she had walked in through the door, Trucy had known something was not right. The observant teen was quick to note that when she went to hang up her cape on the coat rack and place her house keys on the wall hook, neither her father's jacket nor keys were present in either location. In addition, his sandals were not in their usual place on the shoe rack.

A feeling of unease flickered within her.

_Perhaps Daddy staggered in really late the night before from a little too much holiday celebration and took everything with him to his room, and is now dead to the world? Yes, that's it! I'm being silly and worrying over nothing!_

Trucy tiptoed upstairs and placed an ear to Phoenix's bedroom door, but only detected complete silence.

_Why don't I hear him snoring like a band saw, as per usual?_

Quietly, so as not to awaken him, she tentatively opened the door a crack, and immediately saw that the bed was completely made and hadn't been slept in.

Her brow knitted with concern, Trucy looked down at her watch and saw it was 8:05. Daddy must have stayed over somewhere. Maybe he had gone home with his colleague Tyler after the party. She would give him a call if she couldn't reach her father, and find out when he would be home. As it was, Trucy was home earlier than she had expected to be, but Gouda and her family were going to visit with some cousins on the other side of town that day, and the car ride was a lengthy one, therefore they had dropped Trucy off en route, in hopes to beat the holiday traffic.

Just then, she heard the computer buzzing downstairs. She had a Skype call.

After ringing off with her friends, the first thing Trucy had done was call her father's cell, which went straight to voicemail.

Next, she rang Tyler and Sasha, figuring that since they had young children, they would undoubtedly be awake this early on Christmas morning. However, after a few moments of pleasant small talk, her first call ultimately led to a dead-end, with the bartender telling Trucy that he had seen Phoenix the night before at the party, but her father had been the first one to leave, and not been heard from since.

Finally, she tried calling Uncle Gumshoe, who also hadn't heard from her father since the night before, and of course, reiterated his offer to have them come over later.

"He's _still_ not back, pal?" The police chief sounded perturbed. "I hope he's not randomly passed out in a ditch or something…"

Upon hearing this, the teen felt her heart, almost literally, standstill.

"I wonder if we should be worried." Gumshoe continued thinking aloud, oblivious, as usual, about the effect his words were having on his now panicked niece. "Hmmm…Do I need to put out an APB on that guy to find out if he's dead or alive?"

"Dick, you big oaf! When are you _ever_ going to learn that when you're _thinking and your lips are moving_ , it means you're _talking?"_ Aunt Maggey scolded in the background. "I'm sure Phoenix is fine! He's probably crashed at a coworker's place, and is more than likely still sleeping off the effects of the party! Why do you have to go and worry that poor little girl for?"

"Oops! Heh, heh, you're right, honey," Gumshoe muttered sheepishly. "Trucy, give your father a buzz and leave a message if he doesn't answer. But if he's not back by say, noonish, call me back, OK?"

"Thanks, I will, Uncle Gumshoe," the girl mumbled. "Merry Christmas. Take care."

Finally, Trucy called Larry's number, which of course didn't give her any further clue of Phoenix's whereabouts either, and her second call to his cell proved to be as futile as the first.

Trucy checked the train schedule online and noted that the last train to Kurain had stopped running at 5:00 PM Christmas Eve, so she could rule out the possibility he'd gone to see Iris after his work party.

She tried to squelch her mounting misgivings, attempting to convince herself that even as an overnight guest, her sleepyhead father was unlikely to be awake already. Nevertheless, a head's up call or text _sure would've been nice_ right about _now_! She looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:15.

For completely inexplicable reasons, the magician suddenly felt compelled to go back into Phoenix's room, which she normally never did, except to put away laundry on top of his bed. She tried to rationalize that she wasn't being unnecessarily nosy and that within these four walls there might be a hint as to his current whereabouts, but in the end, she ended up nearly tearing his wardrobe and dressers apart in her quest.

Naturally, she found nothing.

_Siegfried and Roy caught in a man-eating a tiger cage! Where **are** you, Daddy?! I'm seriously starting to get worried here!_

Grumbling to herself, the teen hastily restored everything to its proper order, then let out a frustrated grunt and flopped onto her father's bed, accidentally whacking her ankle, quite painfully, on the bottom drawer of Phoenix's heavy wooden night table. Biting back a curse, Trucy looked down and realized that the cause for the injury was because the drawer wasn't fully closed, as it appeared to be stuffed to maximum capacity, and was, therefore, still partially opened.

_What in the name of David Copperfield does he keep in there anyway?_

Trucy wasn't even going to pretend she wasn't snooping anymore. Her mysterious, secretive father was presently missing, and up until the night before, had spoken very little to her about his comings and goings, _or at all_ , in general! Perhaps she could find some clues that would make her understand him a bit better, and give her better insight into _why_ he had stopped smiling over nine months ago.

The first item she found shoved into the drawer was the previous day's lifestyle section of the _LA Times_.

_Huh. That's odd. I could've sworn I threw that into the kitchen-recycling box before I went to work yesterday! Hmmm, I wonder what's in this rectangular wooden box?_

Inside the drawer was a shiny, mahogany chest, approximately the size of a standard, chocolate gift box. It wasn't locked, so she had no problem popping the lid open to study its contents. Inside was a miscellaneous combination of curious things that she could make no sense of at all, as each discovery was more random than the next.

A bullet in a small plastic bag

A weird business card with a seashell emblem

The fingerprinting powder Phoenix had told her he'd gotten from his friend, Ema Skye when he had taken on her sister's case many moons ago

A drawing of some sort of object _,_ flying over an unknown commodity that appeared to be on fire, or something to that effect

_Whoever drew that had a fantastic imagination, but **no** artistic skills whatsoever! Someone should tell them **not** to quit their day job!_

In Trucy's amateur artsy opinion, the next drawing she stumbled upon was considerably better. It was on a business card that had a pink shell on it, with a spiky-haired man drawn over it in Sharpie. Trucy would have recognized the likeness of her father's spikes, even if she hadn't seen _Nick_ written on it.

_Huh. **Nick?** Nobody calls him that except Uncle Larry. Did he draw this too? Maybe his skills improved from the time that he drew a flying stick figure over a fire. Alrighty, this investigation has been a complete bust! So much for getting any clues from here!_

Exasperated now, Trucy tried to shove the box back into the drawer but found she was unable to, as it kept hitting something hidden in the rear corner, which she had somehow missed. Reaching her hand to the very back of the drawer, which was longer and deeper than she had thought, Trucy's searching fingers closed upon a smaller box.

Snapping the lid open, the teen looked at the contents within the velvet jeweler box, and let out a stunned gasp. Not _one_ , but _two_ exquisite pieces of jewelry lay inside. _Women's_ jewelry.

The first item was a stunning, heart-shaped gold pendant, which was on a delicately braided gold chain. Unfortunately, the necklace was broken on the actual chain link itself, not the clasp, looking as though it'd nearly been snapped in two. The heart pendant remained undamaged. Examining it more closely, Trucy saw it was engraved in the back, and smiled at the romantic inscription.

**_I love you madly, without question or reason, and care naught if it's for a lifetime or season._ **

Running her fingernail along the edge, the teen realized that the pendant was a locket, and popped it open. The heart's interior allowed room for two small photos inside. On one side was a picture of a breathtakingly beautiful woman, with long caramel hair, kind brown eyes, and a smile like an angel's. On the other side, Trucy immediately recognized her father and Pearl, who was no older than eight or nine at the time, in a rowboat, on a body of water. Next to the two was a pretty, _familiar-looking_ , older girl, with long black hair and mischievous dark eyes, pressing her face against Phoenix's as she waved at the camera. Although she had been much younger in this locket photo, Trucy recognized the raven-haired female as her father's former assistant, Maya Fey. The very same woman whose engagement had been in the newspaper the previous day.

_There's no indication of whom this locket belonged to, but that **is** the **very same newspaper** Daddy swiped, then **stashed** , into his night table drawer! **Why** did he do that? It doesn't make sense…_

The second piece in the tiny box was truly a sight to behold. It was a striking silver ring, with the symbol of infinity on it, lined with tiny chips of two different sets of birthday gemstones on each side of it, crystal and blue zircon, the latter, which Trucy recognized as her father's birthstone.

**_Forever yours, faithfully_** was engraved on the back _._

_Maybe Daddy bought this ring so he could give it to the next lady he meets, who will be my new Mommy! How sweet! I had no idea my father was so romantic!_

Upon further scrutiny, however, Trucy realized that the ring was _not_ intended for a future recipient, as it was not new. Even though it was still shiny and well taken care of, closer inspection suggested that it had belonged to somebody previously, which meant that Phoenix had already gifted this ring at some point. Trucy couldn't ascertain how long ago it had been, but she _did_ know that he must have been keeping that ring for very sentimental and personal reasons.

The magician's intuition went into overdrive at that moment. She _knew_ that the ring hadn't belonged to Iris. She could just sense it. Her instincts also told her that the same mystery wearer of this ring was the same one to whom the locket had belonged, and that same lady had also been the keeper of her father's _heart_. Perhaps this woman had something to do with the fact that Daddy had suddenly stopped smiling.

There was no denying the teen was slightly hurt that Phoenix had chosen to keep such a large part of his life hidden from her. However, more than anything, Trucy was overcome with an overwhelming sense of helpless despair, because her father felt he'd had to endure such hapless, wretched heartache, _all alone_.

_Why_ had her Daddy stopped smiling? _What_ had made him so sad? It wasn't just a losing his badge. Her father had still managed to smile after that for the longest time. It was something _more_. Something _else_.

Trucy clutched the locket in one hand and the ring in the other then brought her clenched fists up to her forehead and felt tears of sorrow and confusion stinging her eyes.

_"Daddy,"_ she whispered sadly into the empty room. "What _happened_ to you?"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wrigh_** **t**  
 _Mystery Location_  
Time and Date Unknown

Phoenix opened his eyes in a strange, dimly lit room. Although sensing it was daytime by the brightness of the sun bursting against the thick window drapes, nobody had opened them yet. As he shifted, the creaky springs of the sofa beneath him made a loud squeak of protest in the otherwise silent room. The noise pierced his ears, making him realize his head was positively _killing_ him. He squinted, dry mouth sticky with thick saliva, and let out a tortured moan before retreating under the duvet that covered him.

The fact that he had no earthly idea of where the hell he was…well, that was a fact he would contend with later. Much, much later. What was important was that his sorry hungover ass wasn't dead or in a gutter somewhere, even though he felt like death warmed over!

"Wake up, Phoenix! Day's a breakin'! Yonder comes a hare with his tail a shakin'!"

The sharp twang made the pianist's balls jump right back into his body!

_Oh. Good. Gawd._ An intense feeling of dread began to course through him. _Speaking of ear-splitting sounds…That voice_ … _it sounds like nails on a chalkboard…_

Upon seeing the source of the migraine-inducing sound, the hobo sprung aloft like a Jack in the Box, oblivious that the act of sitting up so abruptly had flung the blanket to the ground, and exposed the fact that he was wearing nothing but his boxers.

_Jesus H. Christ in a chicken basket! Why am I practically naked?!_

Standing before him, looking like something out of _Victoria's Secret_ lingerie catalog, stood Miss Southern Belle herself. She was wearing a poppy-red, baby doll negligée, which had lace triangle cups with cross-strap bust detail, and a mesh-skirted bottom, along with a matching, high cut sheer panties with lace trim, and a dark scowl on her toothsome visage.

The spiky-haired man gulped.

_It's official – my dick legit jumped back inside me! It's now in my stomach. I'm all balls!_

"Normally I'd say, well lookit what the cat dragged in," she drawled. "But of course, that would imply that yer drunk as Cooter Brown behind had _left_ here at some point! I reckon it's a trifle more appropriate to say ya look like ya been ridden hard and hung up wet, Phoenix Wright!"

"R – rode h – hard?" He stammered, suddenly incredibly self-conscious about his lack of attire. The DILF surreptitiously made a move to grab the flung cover off the floor and hide from her scathing eyes for decorum purposes, which seemed ridiculous, considering what had already happened between them. Well, what he _presumed_ had transpired, anyway – it wasn't as though he could ask for _confirmation!_

_Could_ he?!

_How does_ _one react in these situations? Did I miss my cue to ask '_ _was it good for you, too_? _' I'm sure I can safely assume that I_ _was a happy camper? I mean, **look**_ _at her! It must_ _have been good for me! Not_ _that I remember any_ _of it!_

Tiffany saw the attempted modesty action and gave a derisive snort.

"Why so shy all of a sudden, sweet cheeks?" She purred, leaning forward, and booping him on the nose. "Yew ain't got a dang thing I haven't seen already! Wasn't even eight hours ago that there wadn't nothin' between yew and the Lord but a smile."

"T – The Lord?" Phoenix was beyond mortified.

_Sweet Pulsating Spider Christ, we **didn't! Please**_ _tell me we **didn't!**_

"Well, I suppose that ain't quite right. I mean, last night yew were as naked as the day yew was born but I reckon the proper phrase woulda been wadn't nothin' between yew and me but a smile." Tiffany flashed a shit-eating grin. "Although there was some hootin' and hollerin' towards the Man upstairs, so I reckon He was an omnipresent witness to last night's shenanigans…"

_The aching in my skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide, yet the pain is always there. I understand at once, why they call it a hangover, for it feels as if the blackest of clouds loom over my head, with no intention of clearing up until at least late afternoon._

"Please stop torturing me like this, I beg of you!" Phoenix moaned and clutched his throbbing head in his hands. "Tiffany, I'm as confused as a hungry baby in a topless bar! Exactly what the hell happened last night?! Did _I_ , I mean, did _you_ …that is, _did we_ …er…did _you and me_ …?"

For some reason, the question seemed to aggravate the shapely blonde.

"Why, ya cotton' pickin,' egg-suckin' _dawg!"_ All traces of mirth vanished from the waitress's mien, and her japing grin was replaced by a ferocious glare. "Do ya mean to tell me that yer sitting there on ma divan, lookin' like ya dunno whether to check yer ass or scratch yer watch, cuz yew fo'sho ain't got no dang recollection of what happened last night?"

"I'm so sorry!" The hobo stared at her helplessly. "I don't even know why you're so mad at me! Um, was my performance _lacking_ somehow? Did I leave you hanging or disappointed or something –?"

_"Disappointed?"_ Tiffany let out a derisive, unladylike snort. "Yew gotta be kidding me! I see all that wine ya consumed has left yer brain about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle!"

"Um … So that means I _didn't_ disappoint you, then?" Phoenix asked hopefully, completely uncertain at this point as to what he wanted the answer to be anymore! "Because I normally try _really_ hard to be solicitous in the sack, honest!"

"Hush yer dang mouth!" The Alabammer Slammer commanded, folding her arms across her ample bosom and scowling at him. "I'm fixin' to jog yer memory since yew seems to be as lost as last year's Easter egg…"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Tiffany Pearce_**  
 _Tiffany Pearce's Apartment_  
December 25, 2025, 12:45 AM

"Dang, boy! Where did yew learn how to kiss like that?" Tiffany's mouth was bruised and slightly swollen from the fierceness of the card shark's kisses as he buried his lips against her throat.

"It all just comes naturally with you, baby!" He groaned, grinding his hips against her pelvis as she writhed beneath him on the couch. "You're so damn hot!"

Unfortunately, despite their steamy makeout session and frantic dry humping for the past half hour, it seemed as though certain parts of Phoenix's anatomy just were _not_ cooperating with his heated words! It was like _pushing rope,_ even though they were both wearing nothing but their underwear at that point! Tiffany began to grow impatient and even reached down to try to help things along with her expert fingers but to no avail.

_Dagnabbit!_ The bar wench was growing steadily irritated. _It seems all that blasted wine has made his manhood as useless as a steering wheel on a mule!_

"This has _never_ happened before!" He grunted in frustration and sat up, twin trails of sweat trickling down from underneath his beanie and down his flushed cheeks. "I'm so sorry…"

"It ain't _yer_ fault, suga," Tiffany cooed, rolling out from underneath him then. "Every winter, they crank the heat so high on this dang building that it's hotter than a jalapeño's coochie in here! How's about I give yew a couple of minutes to cool off…"

She then bent over, and with lightning-quick reflexes, relieved him of both his beanie and boxers, the latter which piled down by his ankles in a red and green plaid pool of fabric. Biting her lip, this time with appreciation rather than concern, she eyed his well-defined pecs and sculpted abs ravenously. Truly, her colleague was one fine specimen. Who could have possibly known what kind of physique he'd been hiding underneath those bulky sweats all these years? She hankered to give him a complete tongue bath, and was wholly confident that she had just what the doctor ordered to make that soldier of his stand at attention!

"Just wait right here, sexy, and brace yourself for the night of yer life," Tiffany promised, running one long fingernail down from his chest to his navel. "Ima go slip into something more comfortable and be right back."

"Don't take too long, _hot stuff."_ His eyes were dark with desire. "I can't wait to get my hands on every part of that gorgeous body of yours."

The sexpot gave a throaty chuckle and flashed him a saucy wink, leaving the pianist grinnin' like a possum eatin' a sweet tater as she sashayed off to her bedroom to put on her sexiest, yet to be worn lingerie set. She preened in front of the mirror, pleased with her appearance as she fluffed out her long curls and adjusted her full bust into place accordingly.

_If this doesn't get that man's blood pumping in all his regions, he's got ice water in his veins!_ She licked her lips with anticipation as she sashayed back to the living room. _It's taken me almost seven years to determine that my past suspicions were correct… But lawdy, lawdy, if that man is as much a grow-er as he's is an impressive show-er, I am one lucky gal tonight!_

However, to Tiffany's great chagrin, when she returned to the couch, she found her would-be lover passed out and facedown. His boxers remained down by his ankles and he was snoring noisily, sounding very much like a 747 plane at takeoff!

_No problem, I know how to get him to rise_ _to attention…_

Bending over the sleeping man's prostrate form, she began leaving light, teasing kisses on his body, starting by first nipping at his earlobe then trailing down the side of his neck. The pianist stirred slightly but remained out like a light.

_Dang it, the man sleeps like the dead! I'd have an easier time reviving Elvis!_

Undeterred, the determined blonde continued to plant kisses down her coworker's back while her lightly scratching talons followed the trail until she finally was bending over Phoenix's bare, firm buttocks. She pressed her lips against his lower back and then prepared to give _them sweet c_ heeks a nice wholesome squeeze, which she was _sure_ would rouse him.

And that was _it_ happened, without any warning, faster than a bell clapper in a goose's ass!

_THPPTPHTPHPHHPH!_

The initial stank blast was mighty and boisterous. Tiffany almost literally could feel her long curls being blown back from the explosive force. If she hadn't been standing in the way of the empty soda can she'd left forgotten on her coffee table, she was positive the back-end blowout could have probably knocked over her earlier consumed Diet Coke.

However, what immediately followed the butt yodeling out of the gas chamber was what was truly horrifying. The ass acoustic implication changed, swiftly and without notice. It went from a loud, dry air horn squeal to a nefarious, hissing mephitis. Because she was so close to the bumsen burner, the poor waitress was made privy to the noxious metamorphosis sooner, rather than later. She jerked her neck violently, trying to get away from the personified evil being fumigated into her soul and she wondered if the fetid backdraft emitted could mean certain death. In total, it lasted about 4 seconds, but for Tiffany, it seemed like time was frozen. The long-term, severe brain damage, which she was sure she'd suffer, not to mention how badly her poor, abused nostrils had been fumigated, only added to that effect.

Tiffany jumped up in horror, one hand plugging her nose, the other frantically waving about her as she desperately tried to clear the befouled air so that she could resume breathing again.

_Forget lightin' a match! I'm fixin' to light a whole match BOOK!_

"Lawd have mercy, that's just _nasty_!" She exclaimed disgustedly, curling her lip. "I thought the damn peckerwood only had wine, but based on _that lethal stench_ , fo'sho he snuck _some beer in there_ tonight as well! That stinks so bad it could _knock a buzzard off a gut wagon_! Ugh, _the hell with this_! _Mr. Booty Bomb_ and his _rank air biscuits_ can just park it out here, dagnabbit! I'm going to bed!"

She spun around on her heel and began stalking back towards her bedroom in a huff, then thought the better of it. Holding her breath once again, Tiffany quickly yanked Phoenix's underwear back up, and then covered him with the afghan she kept on the armchair for whenever she would be watching late-night movies on TV.

"Ain't no way I'm leaving that sphincter siren exposed, with them guns still blazing hot! Mr. Horton Hears a Poo is likely to burn a hole into my poor divan!" She stomped back towards her room then, muttering to herself. "Very Airy Christmas to me indeed!"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Tiffany Pearce_**  
 _Tiffany Pearce's Apartment_  
December 25, 2025, 8:30 AM

_Jesus, Mary, And Joseph Stalin! And I was already poised to slit my own wrists after the **bra-shopping** incident!_

The traumatized ex-lawyer remained frozen with mortification on that couch while Tiffany finished relaying his _tail_ of shame. He couldn't believe such a colossally humiliating thing had happened – yet again! – with his colleague, who he had to somehow still face regularly after this, no less!

His head began to spin, and he dropped it into his hands with a loud groan, knowing he'd never live this down for as long as he lived….

" I see that ya stopped your jaw jackin' now." Tiffany arched an eyebrow at his slumped over form. "Ain't got nuttin' to say for yerself, Mr. Rootin McTootin?"

"A thousand pardons!" Phoenix peeked up at her with guilty, bloodshot orbs, then winced as his colleague visibly fumed at the inquiry. "Um, was it _that_ bad?"

"Smelled bad enough to gag a maggot," she confirmed, heaving a gusty sigh. "I reckon all my nose hairs were done disintegrated on impact!"

"There are no words to express how sorry I am, Tiffany."

Phoenix grabbed his clothes from the ground and hastily shoved his legs back into his joggers while yanking his T-shirt on over his head. Reaching into his pocket for his cell phone, he tried to power it on, only to find that the battery was 100% _dead._

_Dammit! Trucy's probably worried sick already!_

"Can I buy you a coffee or something some time, to thank you for looking after my sorry drunken ass last night?"

_"Coffee?"_ She spat out the word as though it were blasphemy, and then stuck out her lower lip into a pout. " _That's_ yer big ol' plan to _make things up to me_?!"

"My little girl's at home, probably wondering whether I'm _dead or alive_!" He grabbed his sweatshirt and beanie. "I need to get home to her!"

"OK, fine, you're a dedicated DILF, I get it," she sulked, oblivious to the pianist's visible cringe at her use of the _traumatizing term_. "I can respect that ya ain't got time to knock ma socks off this instant. But ain'tcha even gonna try to offer me a _rain check?!"_

"I – I er…" Phoenix gulped as he discreetly inched his way to the front, and felt himself beginning to sweatdrop as he frantically groped for a way out of this fresh hell _._ "Well, the thing is, we should take last night as a _sign_ that er, certain things maybe just aren't meant to be…"

"Are ya trying to tell me," Tiffany's eyes narrowed as she put her hands on her shapely hips. "That now, that yer stone-cold sober and ain't got the dang excuse of being drunker than a bessy bug, that yew don't wanna _get with **this?"**_

He remained silent. The Southerner's pitch then rose a few octaves and was now high with a combination of rage and disbelief.

"Yer seriously telling me ya don't want me? What the ever-lovin' titty-fuckin' hell? Was I right all along that day y'all came bra-shopping with your special fella after all?! Yer a _total fruitcake_ , ain'tcha?!"

Phoenix sighed deeply and took a good long lingering look at his coworker, clad in such sheer, translucent, minuscule pieces of fabric, she may as well have been bare before him. Tiffany's voluptuous, slender figure was like that of a lingerie model from Victoria's Secret. Even free of makeup, her azure eyes, although lovely, were like the sea, calm and emotionless. His eyes were drawn to the golden river that gently caressed its way down her neck, reaching to just below her shoulder blades; long, blonde curls, so smooth and silky, almost as if tailored from gold fabric. He gazed upon her perfect, nearly naked form, her skin glistening with a sensual sweat from the overheated radiator heat of the apartment, with admiring, yet completely dispassionate eyes.

Tiffany Pearce was drop-dead gorgeous, tempting, alluring and even though he had completely _tooted his own horn_ in her face, she nevertheless, for reasons he could not even fathom, still wanted a piece of his messed up, emo headcase ass!

_If the Gods are real_ , he told himself. _Then this woman is their masterpiece. There isn't a man alive with a pulse who wouldn't give his eyeteeth to be standing where I am right now._

Yet _he_ didn't feel a damn thing. No stirring in his loins, fire in his blood, nor, most importantly, any increased pounding of his heart. There had only been _one_ woman who had ever truly possessed the ability to have total reign over all three and having experienced that in his life, there was no way he could ever get involved with somebody else, knowing it was going to be mindless, soulless and meaningless, right out of the gate. He would only feel even more wretched and empty than he already did.

"I –I'm genuinely sorry, Tiffany. You're a saint to have taken care of me last night when I was such a wreck but you deserve more than to be somebody's meaningless distraction." Phoenix shook his head regretfully and forced himself to meet her indignant eyes. "B-But I can't. I just can't. I swear to God _it's not you, it's me_."

"Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's rainin'! Tell me something right now, Phoenix Wright." Her voice trembled with rage. "And quit goin' around your ass to get to your elbow! Is this because ya _do_ have a girlfriend? Yer little 'not tonight' comment wasn't just yew being playfully naughty?"

"It's…um… _Complicated_ …" He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore the enraged glare his rehashing of the old line from over six years ago earned him. "Look Tiffany, any guy in this world would be lucky to have you. I _am_ still a man, and I fully confess that I think you're drop-dead the truth of the matter is, I have a particular soft spot for raven-haired brunettes."

"Yew low-down, no-good piece of Yankee slime!" Tiffany hollered, storming up to him, reaching for the knob, and flinging the door open. " _Yew_ kissed _me_ , and yew _do_ have a gal pal?! And ya still went full steam ahead last night, knowing darn tootin' I ain't the kind of floozy to mow another gal's lawn?! Yer lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut! Yew can kiss my go-to-hell! Git outta ma sight!"

The waitress's southern twang magnified a tenfold when she was enraged. The steam was practically coming out of her ears now, for which the poker champ felt unequivocally awful.

"Tiffany, I –"

"Git the hell outta my house before I jerk ya bald!" She all but shoved him out the door. "Go back to yer poor, unsuspecting gal pal! If she can stomach the doggone stench of yer stank ass, she can _have_ yew!"

A very sorrowful but terrified Phoenix was only too happy to oblige, barely making it out of the apartment before the door behind him slammed so hard, he was sure the walls shook.

_Yet **another** woman who now hates my guts._ He dragged a hand down his mug. _You would think I'd be getting used to this by now…_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright Trucy Wright_** _  
Wright Talent Agency_  
December 25, 2025, 10:00 AM

Trucy sat rigidly in front of the computer, staring unseeingly at the monitor while she attempted to distract herself by surfing the Internet, but it was an exercise in futility. All she could do was stare at the clock, and think to herself that if her father didn't walk through that door within two hours, she was going to have to take Uncle Gumshoe up on his offer. They'd actually need to put an APB out on her Daddy to find out if he was dead or alive! The idea of losing yet another parent was beyond devastating and the poor magician buried her head in her hands as hot tears stung her eyes.

_Dear Lord,_ she prayed. _I've not asked you for a whole lot in my life, but please, **please** let my father come home, alive and well. He's a good guy and a great Daddy! I love him and need him so much! He's all I've got in this world…_

Just then, she heard the quiet jingle of keys and Trucy realized that Christmas miracles _did_ exist as her thankful, teary gaze fell upon the face of her exhausted-looking but completely _alive_ father as he ambled in the front door.

_"Daddy!"_ Trucy cried, rushing up to Phoenix and nearly tackling him with the vigor of her embrace as she threw her arms around him, her tears of relief soaking his shirt. "Oh Daddy, thank God, you're OK!"

"Forgive me, baby girl." He held her tightly in his arms, feeling sickened with guilt at how distraught she must have been. "I did a little bit too much celebrating last night and unexpectedly crashed at a coworker's place. I swear it was unplanned! I didn't realize I hadn't charged my phone and it was utterly dead, which is why I didn't call. And then, all the buses are on a holiday schedule, so it took forever to get home. Truce, I'm so, so sorry…"

"It doesn't matter," the teen sniffled and wiped her eyes, and his heart ached that for the second time in less than 24 hours, his daughter had shed tears on his account. She forced herself to smile. "You're safe and home now, and nothing else matters."

The anterior defense attorney swallowed the lump in his throat and kissed the top of her head. Trucy was too good for him. He didn't deserve her. For some reason, this little angel, his light, loved him enough for both of them. Because Phoenix did not love himself at all anymore. In fact, that morning, he realized that he had reached the pinnacle of self-loathing.

"I love you, Truce. You're right, I'm home now, and I'm not going anywhere. All I want to do is spend Christmas with my daughter."

"I love you, too. I'm so happy you're OK! I can give you your present now!" Trucy's eyes lit up, even as she gave her father a critical once over. "I think you need it _now_ more than ever! You don't look so good, Daddy. You're giving Uncle Gumshoe a run for his money in the scruffy department!"

Despite his bleak mood, the erstwhile attorney threw his head back and laughed loudly at her candid observation, then self-consciously ran a hand over the stubble on his chin.

"Guilty as charged," he chuckled, walking over to the hall closet were the extra coats were stored. He reached up to the top shelf for the gift he had hidden there as Trucy raced back downstairs from retrieving his Christmas present.

"I hope you like this, baby girl." He handed the large box to her. "I've had to drink generic brand grape juice the past few months to save up for it!"

"I would like _anything_ you gave me, Daddy!" Trucy tore eagerly into the box. "But I know money's tight; you didn't have to buy me anything!"

Pulling out the brand-new, blue silk magician's hat, the teen squealed with delight.

"But I'm _so happy_ you did!" She lunged at him with another crushing hug. "Thank you so much! I needed this so badly! My old one was ruined beyond repair when I got into a fight with Drew Peacock but I thought I was going to have to wait after Christmas for all the Boxing Day specials to get another one!"

"Let this be your incentive then to use your words and _not_ your fists in the future." He grinned at her enthusiasm, then cracked up as his daughter placed the hat on her head and began to make ridiculous, goofy faces.

"I'm _serious_ , Daddy! This is the infamous _duck face_ all the girls do when they take selfies for their social media pages because they think it makes them look sexy or something!"

"My least favorite waterfowl!" He was still chuckling as he shook his head, then pointed to his parcel. "My turn?"

"I hope you like it!"

He couldn't help but smirk when he opened the shaving set. His daughter truly was a subtle as a Mack truck!

"I knew it would be the perfect gift!" Trucy crossed her arms and gave him a mock stern expression. "But after this morning, I'm wondering if I shouldn't have bought you a portable cell phone charger or backup battery instead!"

"I swear Truce, I will _never_ be so irresponsible again," he promised, leaning over and rumpling her hair. "From this day forward, your Daddy _only_ drinks grape juice! And if I _ever_ go back to my word, you have my full permission to club me over the head with the bottle!"

"I don't know if my nostrils could handle you drinking anything more than grape juice again!" Trucy wrinkled her pert button nose. "Yuck! You smell like a brewery _,_ Daddy! Off to the shower with you! And there's no time better than the _present_ to make use of your new _present!"_

"Thanks for the candor, kiddo!" Phoenix chuckled ruefully and turned to head upstairs. "I won't be too long but you're right, a nice hot shower is _just_ what I need right now."

"You go do that," Trucy instructed. "I'm going to go make us a nice Christmas breakfast."

She smiled innocently.

"I get the feeling that you would probably appreciate something _greasy_ right about now. How do you feel about bacon and eggs?"

_Fuck me running backward with a chainsaw! Is there anything more embarrassing and undignified than having your teenage daughter make it crystal clear that she knows you're hungover?_ Phoenix wondered as he headed to his room. _I mean, it's at least got to be right up there with ripping assright into the face of your obscenely hot coworker? And then having her not **once** but now **twice** accuse you of being light in the loafers – otherwise known as being gayer than eight guys sucking nine guys' dicks!_

Not that it mattered what Tiffany thought of him in the grand scheme of things. Nothing mattered to him anymore. He had put all his efforts into the one thing that _had_ mattered and discovered yesterday that the sacrifice had been completely worthwhile.

His ex-girlfriend's engagement was proof that, at all costs, he been successful in his endeavors.

Phoenix flopped down on his bed, and reached for the bottom drawer of his night table, carefully pulling out the folded newspaper page he'd hidden in there. With delicate precision, so as not to wrinkle it too much, he lightly traced his finger over every inch of that flawless face in the photo.

Time looked like it'd been good to his ever-ageless former lover. She barely looked any older than she had when he had first set eyes on her a decade ago. Like a fine wine, she had only improved with age.

As for himself…well, a quick look in the mirror indicated that Tiffany had not been kidding when she said he looked like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet. Whereas his ex was destined to look forever young, he knew _he_ looked old, destitute, and haggard… And _at least_ a good decade older than he was. It was just as well she wasn't around to see how badly he'd deteriorated since he'd seen her last.

The former defense attorney's doleful gaze ran over every detail of that ethereal visage, as though trying to commit it to memory. He honestly thought that Maya had never looked more beautiful. This pretty boy of hers was one _lucky_ son of a bitch.

Soon, the Master of Kurain would be a radiant bride and just like her engagement, it would be a news event that everybody worldwide would be made aware of.

"It was all worth it, in the end," Phoenix whispered aloud, raising his stinging eyes upward towards the heavens. "I kept my promise to you, Chief. Maya's safe now."


	106. Someone To Watch Over Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every move you make and every vow you break  
> Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you  
> Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you  
> I'll be watching you  
> Every breath you take and every move you make  
> Every bond you break, every step you take (I'll be watching you)  
> Every single day, every word you say  
> Every game you play, every night you stay (I'll be watching you)  
> Every move you make, every vow you break  
> Every smile you fake, every claim you stake (I'll be watching you)  
> Every single day, every word you say  
> Every game you play, every night you stay (I'll be watching you)

**_Maya Fey_** _  
Governor's Mansion, Los Angeles  
_ February 14, 2025, 6:30 PM

It was the Who's Who as far as swanky affairs went. All of the bigwigs across the state, and possibly even the nation, were present at the Governor's Ball that night. Everybody from politicians to diplomats, to business professionals, even a couple of scattered celebrities. As the prestigious Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique, and despite her great reluctance Maya was also obligated to make an appearance at the politician's LA mansion, a place so grandeur it made Fey Manor look like a shoebox in comparison.

Designs of fruit and flowers were carved into the moulding, and small, fat children with wings looked down at the guest from every angle from the 20-foot high ceiling of the luxurious great hall Maya entered. Large, crystal vases of fragrant blossoms sat atop the main hall pillars, which, while pleasing to the eye, gave off a cloying scent that they made her eyes itch. She heaved a deep sigh and plastered on her most winsome smile as she handed her coat to the attentive butler standing in the foyer and headed into the main room with the festivities were being held.

_Note to self, make sure I tell Nick that I have an adverse reaction to daises! I don't even know why they chose to use an abundance of traditional funeral flowers for decoration anyway! Were they trying to go for irony here? Like, ha-ha! This party is sure to be dead, hence implied hilarity of the unfortunate floral accents?! Ugh, I sure hope this fête has good eats at least!_

The room was uncomfortably large, reminding the Kurain Master of a hotel foyer, not just in the space, but in the artwork too. Her eyes scanned around for a personal touch, something that didn't suggest a hired designer had chosen it but found none.

The floor was polished concrete, the walls white, and the furniture probably from some hard to pronounce, high-end Scandinavian designer. It was a perfect place, but cold in its tranquility. The soft music, just audible as background noise, somehow made it even less personal. Maya felt as though she had just stepped into some sort of museum, and suddenly was aching to get out of there and over to Edgeworth's penthouse to see Phoenix as soon as it was socially acceptable for her to do so. She did not want to spend the entire duration of her Valentine's Day evening at this _complete bore of a party_ even if it was a prime opportunity to drum up business for Kurain! Ah, the things she did for diplomacy.

While she normally didn't mind an opportunity to get dressed up in her finer party clothes and munch on some free fancy food, Maya loathed the pretentiousness that always seemed to accompany soirées of this magnitude! Inwardly, she was cursing the Governor for the ill timing of his annual fiesta having to be on the same night as the most romantic night of the year! Sure, the vast majority of these stodgy old farts might be too ancient to have a love life worth mentioning, but _she_ most certainly was not!

As soon as the Master could get out of there, she and Phoenix had a whole, blissfully romantic, clothing-optional weekend planned; one of the few when the two of them could simultaneously be free from any duties or work obligations. It pained her that she was required to there right now, having to kiss ass and rub elbows, when she _should_ instead be placing her lips upon her sexy boyfriend's and rubbing her body all over his!

The Master smilingly clutched her half-consumed, secondary glass of bubbly, while murmuring bits of small talk as she made the rounds across the crowded room. She was lost in her own little dream world as she mingled, blissfully envisioning her plans that night once she could prudently make her escape, that she didn't even see the Rubenesque, middle-aged woman step in front of her at the buffet table until she was practically on top of her.

The two women collided heavily, sending both of their purses clattering to the floor.

"Oh my goodness!" The woman's plump hand fluttered to her throat, her armful of gold bangles colliding in an 18-carat clash as her thickly lined, Cupids bow lips formed a round-O of horror. "I am _so_ sorry! How clumsy of me…"

"It's OK, it was probably my fault…darn champagne bubbles go right to my head and make me all wonky!" The diviner then let out a surprised cry when she saw who was standing before her. "Rosanne Palms! How's it going?"

"Maya Fey!" The woman let out a gleeful, high-pitched trill of recognition at the sight of the spirit medium. "Fancy seeing _you_ here! And none of this Rosanne business, Missy! I told you before, and I'll tell you again, please call me _Rosie_ like everyone else does!"

_Well rub an egg on my face and dip me in breadcrumbs! **She** may not see the humor of being called **Rosie Palms** but **I** sure as hell do! Hee!_

Maya's inner five-year-old was giggling maniacally as she made every accompanying Palmela Handerson and Angela Hansbury joke in the book in her mind, while miraculously still keeping a straight face.

"It's so nice to see you again." The spirit medium smiled pleasantly as she squelched the last of her internal snickering. "I imagine your husband's around here somewhere? I'll have to say hello before I head out."

"Yes, Harry milling about with his cronies and colleagues, leaving me here all by my lonesome," Rosie sulked. "That's why I'm beyond tickled to finally see someone familiar at this crashing bore of the ball!"

_Rosanne and Harold AKA Rosie and Harry Palms. Tee hee! Either a match made in heaven! I'll bust a gut if I think too long about how the **latter** sounds like something a strict nun would threaten would happen to a pubescent boy if he got too much of the **former!**_

"Hey, _you_ said it!" The diviner snickered. " _I've_ merely been thinking the same notion! Er, about what a yawn this shindig is, I mean. Not, um, you and Harry's names or anything!"

"What's that?" Rosie appeared genuinely puzzled. "Our names?"

"Er, nothing. I'm happy to see a friendly face, too! We can prop each other up all night!"

"I only speak the truth, my dear. What a difference it is, seeing you in regular attire, rather than your Master robes! You look _stunning_! Is that a new dress?"

"What, _this_ old thing?" Maya self-consciously ran her hands down the hips of her scarlet mini, crafted from dazzling sequins on the strapless bodice, with a fitted skirt that fell over the hips and thighs, with a flourish of delicate chiffon flowers decorating the hip-length hemline of the garment. "Nah! The mail only comes to my village once a week. Therefore, I received the invitation to this party at the 11th hour, which didn't give me much time to shop. I just threw on this dress I got ages ago, which thank goodness, still fits!"

"It's positively resplendent, especially with your coloring. You clearly take very good care of your clothing, since it looks pretty brand spanking new to me!" The older woman's overly made-up eyes shone with admiration. "Wherever did you get it?"

"An old friend of mine bought this as my birthday gift six years ago, at DKNY. I'll be seeing them later tonight. Plus, it _is_ Valentine's Day, so I thought I'd dress for the occasion." A rosy calescence crept upon Maya's neck and cheeks. "I have a lot of very fond memories attached to this little number."

"I'm _sure_ you do!" Rosie flashed a sly wink, and the spirit medium's blush deepened. "Well, I'm happy to hear you have other plans besides this snooze of a fiesta! It would be a total waste of that ravishing ensemble otherwise! I don't think Harry and I are doing anything after we get out of here, so _you_ can go live it up for the both of us!"

The raven-haired woman giggled in response, then looked down at the floor, realizing that while the two of them had been busily gabbing, they _still_ hadn't picked up their handbags, both of which had fallen ajar and spilled out their contents. Rosie noticed this at that same moment and bent down as well. Maya hastily scooped up the remaining items back into her clutch but not before her friend spotted the item that had been hidden within the confines of the bag's silk lining interior. At the sight of the shiny gold locket, which had opened up from the fall, the older woman let out a gasp of appreciation.

"My goodness, that pendant is magnificent! Why on earth aren't you wearing it?"

"Oh, I _always_ do, underneath my Master's robes, but I didn't want any unnecessary attention drawn to certain parts of my anatomy, due to the provocative area where the chain falls!" She laughingly gesturing towards her full cleavage. "I think I may have been a tad less modest when I was 21 than I am _now_! But I'm going to make sure I slip it back on when I get out of here."

"Perchance, was the same _friend_ who bought you that killer dress…" Rosie flashed another telltale wink. "Also the one who gave you that locket?"

The necromancer shyly dropped her eyes as she nodded bashfully and hurriedly snapped the heart shut, but it was too late – her dialogue partner had already seen the photos inside.

"The photos of everybody nearest and dearest to my heart are inside that locket."

There was no mistaking the tenderness in Maya's cadence as she made this small confession.

"Is that right?" The other woman smirked knowingly. "Does the handsome, spiky-haired man in that picture with you fall within the said category?"

" _Maybe_." The Master bit back a coy smile, a tad too tipsy to take heed that she was being less guarded than usual – and that Rosie wasn't the only one within listening vicinity of this conversation.

"It's so nice to see that you young folks can still be so romantic and sentimental! Don't _ever_ change!" Rosie sighed enviously. "Currently, the only one with a love life worth mentioning in my household is my daughter. She just turned the ripe age of 18 – otherwise known as the perfect age to give her Mama a heart attack!"

"My little girl is 16 this fall, but luckily, thus far, she's been an angel."

"You just wait until she gets into boys!" Rosie warned. "My little troublemaker has some hot date tonight with some hooligan she's wildly smitten with, but who _I_ insist is nothing but a complete _bum!_ You know how these young girls are! She's completely romanticizing the concept of him being this sullen, emotive, long-haired guitarist who makes a living doing nothing but playing folksongs at her university campus coffee house."

"You never know. He might be a very nice young man, with a pure, poetic soul, despite his lack of stature," Maya suggested kindly, with can't miss grin lingering on her lips as she spoke. "I might be biased of course, but I profess to you that I'm hardly a stranger to … these brooding, musician types."

"I _see_ ," Rosie twittered and raised an inquisitive, pencil-thin brow. "Would you say you've surpassed the _no stranger zone_ and are more so veering towards _very well acquainted?"_

"I plead the fifth!" Maya quipped, popping an hors d'oeuvre into her mouth as she belatedly realized she might have already revealed far too much. "Please allow me to excuse myself, Rosie, while I go say hello to your husband."

Out of sight, but not out of earshot, every single tidbit of the women's conversation was processed by the sinister figure lurking within the dark shadows behind the large pillar in the center of the room.

Each word he overheard only fueled the fire that burned inside of him. Every phrase further incensed him, as though it were composed of a flammable substance. His mien had become rigid, and his jaw clamped tight. Teeth grinding, his fist clenched as he pictured a _certain_ handsome, spiky-haired man's neck-snapping like a twig in his mind. He could vividly envision his fist smashing into the nose of his nemesis, splattering red blood on the dirty walls of that filthy bar that derelict worked in.

_That low-life degenerate has crossed the wrong nabob. He needs to learn that being double-crossed makes me very, very angry. He won't like me when I'm angry…_

* * *

**_Party Guest_** _  
Governor's Mansion, Los Angeles  
_ February 14, 2025, 7:30 PM

He downed the last of his champagne and then flicked his hand lazily to signal to the server to give him another. The young woman swooped in quickly, replacing his glass with a newly poured one while retrieving his empty flute. Without even looking at her, he silently shooed her away, as though she were a pesky fly, turning his head away with a contemptuous sniff to exaggerate his dismissal of 'the help.'

Besides, he was a man on a mission, and that belied having to make niceties with the 'little people.'

The moment she was alone, he'd swooped in grandly upon the _vapid, bubble-headed_ , _badly aging_ blonde woman, who was stuffing her already fat cheeks with appetizers by the buffet table. It turned out she was the wife of one of the diplomats at the party, whose name he couldn't be bothered recalling. While he supposed making her acquaintance could have been a potential future investment, as her spouse surely had useful connections, at that moment, he had no interest in anything except pumping her for as much information as possible about the striking, raven-haired beauty with whom he had just heard her conversing.

"You haven't met Maya Fey yet?" Her little piggy eyes nearly bulged out of her plump face in surprise when he made the polite query. "I think she may have _just left_ , but I'm telling you, she is the most delightful thing! So incredibly kind and sweet! She performed a spirit channeling for my husband's dearly departed great aunt last month. Between you and me, I think my teenage son had a little crush on her – and who can blame him? She's such a world-class beauty! She's not married yet, but I'm positive that a woman with glowing skin like hers _definitely_ can't be single if you _catch my drift_ …"

_Let her feel like she's in charge, that she earned my trust. She's easier to steer than my new Mercedes._

He returned his arm to its resting position against the wall pillar, manicured hand dangling downward, and an affixed smile almost touching his lips to mask his ennui. The gleaming gold links of his Patek Philippe on the tanned skin of his wrist glinted in the bright overhead lights in the high ceiling. He would remain there, all genteel congeniality, until he had finished drawing information out of the blathering imbecile before him. The woman was trying too hard, laughing too easily, visibly uncomfortable in a too-tight fussy dress comprised of fabric with the gaudiest sheen. He, on the other hand, underplayed his part, coy and a little slow to warm, and ensured his placid expression was impenetrable, even though he was stewing internally, a raging storm swirling at having been a victim of such treacherous deceit, so readily and for so long.

The fusty femme continued to babble. He remained impassive and quiet and let her drone on, nodding and smiling where needed. He knew the type of female who loved to talk and this was a corpulent little fountain of knowledge who most unquestionably one of them.

Beneath his mask of calm coolness and keen listening, he was planning his next plan of action against the man who had _played him for a fool_ and _dared lie to his face._

Turning away from the conversation, at last, he idly contemplated what the lovely Master of Kurain's fair complexion would look like if she were somehow made even _more_ pastel white in color than she was at the present. He was certain that exquisite visage would still be equally as becoming in eternal rest, were it to become the exact shade of pallor as the graveside flowers copiously placed around the room. A pernicious smirk played upon his lips at the notion.

He didn't even notice the champagne flute he'd been holding shattered in his clenched hand, and he was oblivious to the bright red drops oozing from his fingers.

Fires of fury and hatred were smoldering in the small narrowed eyes as he weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to him for exacting revenge.

He knew he'd have to make that bindlestiff pay; make him even more of a sorry human being than he already was for this unforgivable breach of trust.

However, that would be later.

For now, he had some hobnobbing to do, and outwardly, would enjoy himself immensely in the process, even though he'd be conspiring _his_ punishment all the while.

Plotting the perfect way to teach that _inferior cretin_ not to mess with him.

 _No, Miss Piggy, I haven't made myself acquainted with the Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique **yet.**_ A cold, baleful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. _However, that is about to change, **very, very soon…**_

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
February 17, 2025, 11:55 AM

"Sorry to get back to you so late, my love." Phoenix yanked off his beanie and ran an exhausted hand through his spikes as he flopped down onto the tiny loveseat in the downstairs office, making sure he didn't speak too loudly in case his sleeping daughter upstairs happened to overhear the conversation. "But Trucy needed me to help her out with some homework before she went to bed, and since she had to go to work tonight, it ended up being later than usual." His voice turned husky. "I know I _just_ said goodbye to you this morning, but would I be too much of a schmaltzy cheeseball to admit that I miss you _already_?"

"Not at all, because I miss you too, baby," Maya sighed. "This weekend together was so _ah-mazing!_ It felt like we were honeymooning or something. I wish we could do it more often."

"Well, I still have the battle scars left behind on my back to remember you by until the next time we meet!" He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably and chuckled ruefully. "Hopefully within a fortnight, they will have healed and I shall be able to take off my shirt within my own home, without fear of having to give an embarrassing explanation to my innocent teenage daughter!"

"I'm sorry, Nick." Although Maya's tone was regretful, he could still hear a hint of mirth in her voice at the concept of having marked her man! "Next time, I'll try to be more like you and just leave strategically placed hickeys behind on the body, where nobody but the recipient will ever know about them!"

"What can I say?" He guffawed. "We're two of a kind since we evidently both like leaving behind evidence of a job well done! Moreover, please don't be sorry, my love. I've had nearly six years to learn that you can't bed a vixen, without expecting to be bitten – or marked! – in some manner."

"It all seems like a delicious dream now, made all the worse by coming back to work Monday with a heaping dose of back to life, back to reality!" The diviner groaned. "And let me tell you something – reality _bites!"_

"Pun fully _not_ intended?" He teased. "What's grinding your gears, my love?"

"Well, on top of regular duties, I also had to see Sister Bikini. We had to go over the guest logs of the weekend visitors that rented cabins for Valentine's Day, to make sure that the numbers all matched."

_Sister Bikini… Hey, that reminds me! I've got to tell her about Edgeworth's email this morning regarding Iris's upcoming release…_

The pianist never got the chance to relay the news, however, as his lover's next words stopped him cold.

"By the way Nick, you know that pretty boy, rock star prosecutor that was a big part of ruining you? What was his last name again? _Gavin_ , right?"

"Yeah, it was." Phoenix sat up straight on the cushions then, his heart inexplicably beginning to pound faster. "Now _there's_ a moniker you and I haven't brought up in some time! What made you suddenly bring him up?"

"Welp, I guess the dual life of playing lousy, amateurish, and calculatedly narcissistic music whilst helping destroy the reputations of innocent men finally took their toll on him." He could practically hear the spirit medium rolling her eyes. "I guess that douche canoe slithered up here to Eagle Mountain to get away from it all. I saw his name in the guest logbook. He was here all weekend, from the night of February 14 to the morning of February 17. I'm looking at his name right here. It's under _K. Gavin_."

Upon hearing the name, the ex-lawyer felt the blood beginning to roar in his ears. An invisible hand clasped over his mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierced his heart, unloading in an instant.

"If he only checked out early Monday morning, I guess it's a good thing it's a two-hour train ride to come up from the city!" She tittered then, apparently not even noticing her boyfriend's lack of response. "Funny how things work out! If my Special Someone hadn't worn me out so badly, I wouldn't have missed waking up for my alarm clock in time to catch the first train back to Kurain!"

He wanted to run; he needed to freeze. He could feel his ribs heaving, as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs.

"It's kinda funny, how my sleeping in seemed to be the sole reason that I just barely missed that _Arschloch_ by the time I got up there!" Maya obliviously continued to ramble on in the poleaxed poker champ's ear. "Lucky for him too! I would've had some choice words for that jerk face, had I run into him, let me tell you!"

Phoenix felt his throat closing up as the words building up within became stuck in his throat, still not allowing him to make a response.

"If he wanted privacy and to remain anonymous, you'd think he would've chosen a pseudonym instead of just putting down his first initial with his real last name!" Maya continued indignantly. "It makes zero sense, don't you agree, Nick? I mean obviously, the egomaniac _wanted_ to let us know that he was up there, right?"

"Maya, thanks for waiting up for me as usual. It's been great talking to you but I think I'm coming down with something." Phoenix managed to finally croak out. "I feel kinda rundown, so I'm heading to bed now."

"Crapballs! Must you go _already?"_ She sounded disappointed. "Remember, I only have this week to talk to you a regular basis, because this Saturday, Pearly and I are going away to Bon Temps, Louisiana, just outside New Orleans, for a week. I don't know how good the reception will be down there in the American realms of voodoo and bayous."

"Don't worry, we'll definitely connect before then, my love," he promised, while simultaneously trying not to succumb to hyperpnoea. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, OK? Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you back, Nick."

The moment he hung up the phone, Phoenix shut his eyes and tried to take deep breaths. His head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness. Sounds that were suddenly near felt far away, and he felt as if he was no longer in the body that sat, paralyzed with fear, on that battered old piece of furniture.

 _Oh, heavenly and merciful Lord_ , he prayed vehemently, raising his shaking hands to his face and burying his head in them. _Let me be having these visions of paranoia and this barely stifled panic attack for no reason whatsoever! Please I beg of you, let that have been **Klavier** who was up there this weekend whom my beloved girlfriend just **barely** escaped **encountering** …_

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright  
_** _The Borscht Bowl Club  
_ February 20, 2025, 10:45 PM

Since that unsettling conversation with Maya, Phoenix had never dreaded going to work as much as he did that evening. The last few days leading up to his shift that week had his nerves completely shot, which was never a good thing, considering what he did for a living! Poker players were neither supposed to be shaken nor sweaty, but that night, his fingers were so slick with nervous perspiration, they kept slipping off the keys on more than one occasion.

His jumpy disposition couldn't have happened at a worse time, as tonight was a poker tournament, which meant his daughter would be joining him at 11:00 in The Hydeout when he was done this last set. Trucy had popped in after finishing work about half an hour ago and was idly munching some French fries at a table near his piano, smiling encouragingly at him as he hit yet another off-key in the verse.

Phoenix knew he was playing worse than usual that evening, as he was so consumed by his renewed chary apprehensions about _which Gavin_ had gone to Eagle Mountain ever since her chilling revelation about the cabins. Rather than speaking to her on the phone, as he was afraid that his astute swain would hear the tremor in his voice, he'd taken to only texting her and leaving voicemails when he knew she would be busy. Unless his suspicions were confirmed, he saw no reason to worry the woman he loved, who already had enough on her plate with the stress of single motherhood and running a village amongst ever-disapproving elders.

The pianist's shaky fingers hit a particularly cringe-worthy off note in his practiced melody then. Disgusted with himself, he tersely announced into the microphone that he was done for the night and loped over to his daughter, a false beam plastered on his face for her benefit.

"You're _totally_ having an off night on the piano, Daddy," the magician observed, studying his weary phizog with a pensive frown. "I mean, more than usual! Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," Phoenix lied easily, his affixed smile never wavering. "Truce, I was just thinking, about your birthday, which isn't so far away from now. I know you're a fan of The Gavinners and I was hoping you could look up the price of a couple of tickets. Not front row, of course, but perhaps cheaper ones, in the further back rows. Did you want to research when their next American tour dates are?"

"That would be so cool, Daddy!" Her eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea. "But I don't need to look up the tour dates – I've been keeping track of them since the beginning of the year! The Gavinners have been performing in Europe since last December. Their North American tour won't start until sometime in late summer, which may be a little bit too late for my _actual_ birthday. Not that it matters – I'd love to see them no matter what! I would take it as a late present, no problem…"

Phoenix had already tuned out the rest of her chittering the moment he'd heard the words: _"in Europe since last December."_

His worst fear was officially confirmed.

_Klavier wasn't the one who was up at those cabins._

He dimly heard the magician mention going to the bathroom then, but was lost in a reverie as he sat there in the seat she'd vacated, mindlessly munching on Trucy's leftover fries on the table.

Without warning, the temperature in the general vicinity behind him dropped by several degrees.

"Good evening, _Herr_ Wright," Kristoph greeted in his usual cool manner. "I hope I've not arrived too late to hear my favorite pianist play."

The startled pianist nearly choked on his barely digested French fry at the impromptu appearance of the disingenuous defense attorney. He hastily grabbed his daughter's half-finished glass of soda and downed it so he could finally answer.

"Yes, I _am_ done for the night. I'm just taking a quick break and then in about 10 minutes, I'm off to play poker tonight. It's just as well that you missed tonight's performance – it was a rather rough one." He smiled weakly. "I mean, _rougher than usual_ , heh, heh."

"You are way too way too modest, _Herr_ Wright!" Kristoph laughed, the sound like an angle grinder to Phoenix's ears. "Surely, you are much too self-critical regarding the capabilities of your talent."

"You're either too kind or your musical taste leaves much to be desired." The hobo smiled so hard his cheek muscles hurt as he silently prayed his response came out sounding more sincere than he'd anticipated. "There's a reason Boris and Natasha hired me for my card-playing rather than my keyboarding skills!"

"We both know this is a complete untruth." Kristoph pushed his glasses up his nose. "In all actuality, I have quite discerning, dare I even say, _refined_ tastes, about all things in life. While it's disappointing that I missed the opportunity to hear you tickle those ivories tonight since you're on break until 11:00, that still gives me _just_ enough time to enjoy a drink with you."

The defense attorney waved down a passing waitress and ordered a grape juice for the poker champ along with a house red for himself before taking a seat, uninvited, across from Phoenix at the table. The two men sat there and stared at one another in complete silence until the server returned with their drinks.

"Truly, it's a small world, after all, _Herr_ Wright," Kristoph began casually, as though citing the reason for his visit had only just occurred to him at that moment. "I was desirous to convey information that I thought would be of _particular_ interest to you."

He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip.

"I was one of the privileged few to have attended the Governor's Ball on Valentine's Day evening. Such a _splendid_ event. You really should have been there."

"It sounds divine." Phoenix lifted the grape juice bottle to his lips with unsteady fingers. "Perhaps _my_ invitation got lost in the mail? Oh well, there's always next year, right?"

"You'll _never_ believe who was in attendance this year." Kristoph's leer turned even more crafty, like that of a cat mercilessly toying with a mouse within its trap. "Shall I give you three chances to guess?"

_Please don't be her. Please don't be her. Jesus Haploid Christ… **anybody** but her…._

The overwhelming feeling of dread set his face like rigor mortis and made his teeth lock tightly together. However, unless there was a miraculous way to could turn back time, drag the sun from the sky and inject amnesia into the mind of the German fiend across from him, Phoenix knew his day of reckoning had come.

"I can't even begin to fathom." He swallowed heavily, somehow managing to get a word out, even though his mouth had gone as dry as the Sahara. "I was never really one to fraternize with the echelon of society even during my lawyer days…"

"The Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique." Kristoph's diabolical expression could now only be called an outright _sneer_. "She was quite the belle of the ball, you know. _Everybody_ who was _anybody_ wanted to get a chance to talk with her and make her acquaintance. Unfortunately, as the Governor's domicile was so chockablock of patrons, I couldn't get near her, even though I was most rhapsodic to do so _._ "

Phoenix's stomach dropped to his feet as a wave of panic washed over him. He had thought the first time he had heard Kristoph mention his _daughter's_ name, many years ago, had been the worst thing imaginable. However, as usual, he'd been wrong. This was much worse.

_Shit a brick and fuck me with it – this is **a thousand times worse!**_

"I'm sorry, _who_?" He asked blithely, desperately hoping to convey that Maya's name was from his long-forgotten past.

"How fickle of your memory, to have already forgotten such a ravishing temptress, _Herr_ Wright." Even as Kristoph smiled at him, as usual, it never touched his spectacled eyes, which were now staring at him unblinkingly. "I can't believe you have no immediate recollection of Maya Fey, your faithful former assistant before the misfortune of that now-infamous … _incident."_

The sound of Maya's name on his adversary's lips left made bile rising Phoenix's throat.

_Punch me in the dick and call me squeaky. My goose is cooked._

"I was sorely disappointed that such a prime opportunity to introduce myself had escaped me." Kristoph shook his head with mock regret. "Especially since, seeing her _in the flesh_ , I was able to determine that the photos I have seen of her in the media have done her no justice whatsoever and that she is indeed, _even more ravishing,_ in person."

His oily leer deepened.

"Maya has grown into quite an astoundingly beautiful young woman. I suppose I shall have to arrange some sort of forthcoming opportunity to ensure that my path crosses with hers once more in the foreseeable future."

_Oh, dear God, NO! Maya shouldn't even be on his radar! She's never done anything to anybody in her entire life. This …this about him wanting to **mess with my head.** Most of all, it's working! All this…it's just one gigantic mind cluster-fuck for him!_

"It's as I told you many years ago, Kristoph. Maya Fey and I lost contact with one another a very long time ago." Phoenix spoke through gritted teeth, hoping the other man would be convinced that this was still a sore subject for him. "While I thank you for thinking this would be of relevance to me, alas it is not. Her comings and goings are of no concern to me in the least."

"I believe it would be _my_ turn, then, to be the one suffering from a fickle memory, as this bit of trivia that you so long ago relayed to me had _completely_ escaped my mind indeed."

"Well allow me to _refresh_ it then," he said tightly. "Being a disbarred defense attorney due to presenting forged evidence was deemed to have been a hindrance to her political career, both by her village elders, as well as herself. Therefore, with no qualms whatsoever, Maya left me high and dry, and is part of another life now."

He punctuated his last words with a morose sigh, as though speaking of it still pained him.

"Such a shame," Kristoph sympathized, not looking in the least bit sorry. "The only thing worse than a feckless _memory_ is a fickle _heart_ , is it not? How fortunate for you to have been able to move past such gross disloyalty and no longer need to worry about a callous person such as Maya Fey continuing to be a part of your life."

The pianist's eyes snapped up from the label of his grape juice bottle, which he'd mindlessly been peeling away at to avert his gaze from those unnerving glacial chips of blue ice. As he met the expressionless frosty orbs now, he felt sick to his stomach.

Kristoph _knew._ Despite all their carefully laid efforts and disguises and discretions over the years, somehow, someway, he'd found out about Maya. Probably knew that the two of them had been together all along, and possessed as few qualms about letting Phoenix know this as he had about making his appearance at the cabins last weekend equally as apparent.

Just the thought of his vulnerable girlfriend stuck in that remote, middle of butt-fuck nowhere location, at the mercy of a deranged lunatic, made the pianist feel physically ill.

The cabins just outside Kurain Village. Maya's _home_. The _single_ place where she should have always been safe, yet the _one_ location where, had she not been down in the city with _him_ that weekend, instead would have had her out there at Kristoph's whim.

Phoenix was a hair's breadth away from completely falling to pieces right then and there when out of the clear blue sky, his daughter returned from the ladies' room just in time to pipe up with the world's most ill-timed question.

"Is Maya going to be your girlfriend, Daddy?" Confused cerulean eyes darted back and forth between the composed defense attorney and her nearly hyperventilating father. "Is _that_ why you guys are talking about her?"

 _Jesus Haploid Christ!_ The former defense attorney silently screamed _. You see this right here? **This** is the exact reason why I kept my mouth shut and my daughter in the dark about Maya for these past six years!_

Phoenix couldn't believe his godawful luck! Here he had thought/hoped/prayed that he may have, once again, successfully convinced Kristoph that he and Maya _never had,_ nor _ever would_ be an item and taken her off his radar of consideration! But lo and behold, right on schedule, was his completely clueless but well-meaning kid, bursting in and inquiring about contradictory information, which surely had damaged his well-planned, long played defensively denying façade.

"No, baby girl." He forced his timbre not to waver as he swallowed back another wave of panic. "Maya was merely my assistant and when Daddy lost his badge, she and those mean old ladies in the village told her that it would be bad for her reputation to have anything to do with me. Do you remember me telling you this, now? _That's_ the reason why she and I are _not friends anymore_ , which is _all_ we ever were, a _very long time ago."_

To his great relief, Trucy appeared to suddenly remember the long-ago tarradiddle from yesteryear. She then merely shrugged and smiled brightly, seeming to chalk it up as just another fake trick in the Phoenix Wright Never-Ending Magic Show, and was already prattling on about going downstairs to the poker room before darting off.

However, the poker champ didn't mind the teen's timing this time. At that point, he would've given his right arm to have escaped the German man's unwavering stare, which was making him feel like a bug into the wall.

"It's been great seeing you, Kristoph, b – but I need to get going," Phoenix stammered, tearing his eyes away. "Like I said, poker game at 11:00 and all."

"Don't worry; I'll be back, soon enough _._ " Kristoph extended his hand. "I enjoy your company way too much to ever stray too far, for too long, _Herr_ Wright. Surely, you must be aware that by now?"

"I sure am." He nodded dumbly as he stood, moving to shake the man's sangfroid hand.

"We must play catch up again very soon, _Nick_ ," Kristoph said silkily. Without warning, the hairs on the back of Phoenix's neck stood on end at the use of his nickname. "Next time, _my friend_ , I will ensure I come here early enough to hear your delightful pianist's skills. I have yet to hear you play my song request from many years ago. I'm still a big fan of The Police and I'm quite certain you're familiar with their most famous song, 'Every Breath You Take,' are you not?"

The dual meaning of the words was not lost whatsoever, and the fear traveled in Phoenix's veins but never made it to his facial muscles or skin. His complexion remained pale and matte but his eyes remained steady as he nodded swiftly, let out an understated sigh, then turned to leave, showing he wasn't afraid to turn his back.

As he strode away from the table, towards the basement door, he could feel Kristoph's eyes still burning into his retreating form. He squeezed his lids shut and willed his heart to stop hammering in his chest.

_Maya._

He had to protect her, no matter what the cost.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Iris Hawthorne_** __  
Detention Center  
February 21, 2025, 2:00 PM

_For nearly seven years, I have lived with the conscious fear that I've been subsumed by my act, that I'm really the criminal who forges evidence and calls mass murderers friends, that the person I once was with the ideals and values I once held is completely gone. However, when I'm in Maya's arms, and she still sees through the lie that is my life, I get the sense, maybe I won't lose myself entirely, that there still lingers a trace of the former Phoenix Wright. I could truly believe she could save me from myself; that her love would see me through this mess, and maybe even make me realize I've been wrong in my paranoid suspicions all along._

It turned out his first instincts about the nefarious Kristoph had been dead-on, all along. Yet somehow, to finally realize he'd been right all along, in this instance, brought him no joy whatsoever; not when it would cost him so dearly and when the said revelation was simultaneously conjoined with the cruel hand of fate. Not when finding the truth would mean losing his pillar of strength – the sole person who had kept him whole, and complete, and sane, and had given him hope he could perhaps someday, once again become the man he used to be.

Therefore, Phoenix took no solace in the fact that his preliminary instincts about the dangerous defense attorney had been right all along, and he cursed himself for _ever_ letting those his initial gut reaction ever waiver. It was hardly comforting to know that Kristoph had _not_ been lying when he had made those thinly veiled threats to harm him in myriad circumstances over the years and that all of his invested time and effort in maintaining the façade of the distance between himself and Maya hadn't been for naught. Sure, he'd had the magatama to reinforce his doubts about the blond man, but even if he were to spend the rest of his life with one hand clamped firmly in his pocket, the psyche locks that he could see were nothing more than a guide, and not tangible proof of anything.

The chained locks certainly would not force a confession out of Kristoph, and even if he _did_ manage to get that out of him, what good would it do, when it would probably be dismissed as mere _hearsay_ and not _evidence_?

Besides, if Kristoph _was_ as cold, merciless, and calculating as Phoenix suspected, he was positive that the German would either kill him or have him killed, straight after. The defense attorney was also the type of pathological liar that could undoubtedly beat a polygraph, and the most valuable nuggets of information that could be extracted from his lips would be in the rare instances that the locks were _not_ present

The evil man's harrowing visit to him at the bar yesterday reinforced the hobo's faith in his past judgments that hiding his relationship with the Master of Kurain and never allowing it to become public knowledge had been the right decision.

 _If he recognizes me as too much of a threat, Maya would be a far more valuable informant or blackmail object than Trucy ever was. He would have no problem torturing her and/or killing her._ _Psychos have always sensed how much she means to me, which is why she's always been a victim… Usually **because** of me_. _Maya has already sacrificed enough for me over the years, what with getting tasered for me, getting held in contempt of court, and was willing to die at the hands of a madman assassin to see that justice was done even if it meant risking her life! Her inclinations to sacrifice her reputation for a hobo bum like me, even though it meant complete, irreparable disgrace… this must stop! NOW! I can't do this anymore. I can't be selfish and knowingly risk her life for another minute. If Kristoph does anything to hurt her, it would be all my fault and I'll never forgive myself for as long as I live._

He leaned up against the building and took in a breath, trying not to regulate his breathing.

_The fear sits quietly, eroding the person I was born to be. What starts as a contortion of my stomach becomes a feeling of being smothered by an invisible hand. My breathing becomes erratic, deep, then shallow. I fight it. I fight the feeling as my body writhes to be free or shut down entirely._

Phoenix had suffered a restless, sleepless night from hell, suffering from repeated nightmares that Maya had been kidnapped again, this time by Kristoph, who then proceeded to personally rape and torture her to death, ignoring all his pleas to die in her place, and he was completely drained. This visit to his ex was his one chance to make sure that his nightmares never became a reality. His brain was too fried to analyze any other option.

"Iris…" he stared up into the bright azure sky. "I wish I knew for sure what to do…"

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Police – Every Breath You Take


	107. King Of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N There are two sides to every story. This chapter, at last, explains Phoenix's POV from the time he visited Iris in chapter 73 "If I Could Turn Back Time" to the last time he saw Maya in THAT scene, chapter 74 "Suddenly These Changes". I hope things make more sense now, and hopefully, poor Nick is now seen as somewhat less of a d*ck! 😊

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little black spot on the sun today  
> It's the same old thing as yesterday  
> There's a black hat caught in a high tree top  
> There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop
> 
> I have stood here before inside the pouring rain  
> With the world turning circles running 'round my brain  
> I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign  
> But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
> 
> There's a little black spot on the sun today  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> It's the same old thing as yesterday  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> There's a black hat caught in a high tree top  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop  
> (That's my soul up there)
> 
> I have stood here before inside the pouring rain  
> With the world turning circles running 'round my brain  
> I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign  
> But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
> 
> There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> There's a blue whale beached by a springtime's ebb  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web  
> (That's my soul up there)
> 
> I've stood here before inside the pouring rain  
> With the world turning circles running 'round my brain  
> I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign  
> But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
> 
> There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out  
> There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt  
> There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed  
> There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread
> 
> King of pain
> 
> There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack  
> (That's my soul up there)  
> There's a black-winged gull with a broken back  
> (That's my soul up there)
> 
> There's a little black spot on the sun today  
> It's the same old thing as yesterday
> 
> I've stood here before inside the pouring rain  
> With the world turning circles running 'round my brain  
> I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign  
> But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
> 
> King of pain  
> King of pain  
> King of pain  
> I'll always be king of pain  
> I'll always be king of pain  
> I'll always be king of pain

**_Phoenix Wright and Iris Hawthorne_** _  
Detention Center_  
February 21, 2025, 2:00 PM

There was _so much_ riding on this visit. Today he'd need to _ante up_ and play _the most high-stake gamble_ of all time.

However, he wouldn't be able to do it alone.

 _The biggest mistake I ever made was underestimating Kristoph Gavin._ _Sneaking around obviously didn't work. He's not only every bit the twisted, psychotic man Edgeworth warned me that he is, but moreover, he is shrewd enough to sense my associations with him are not motivated merely by **friendship**. Therefore, he's always been watching me and stalking everyone I care about. This man's life motto is 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.' Now that he knows I've lied to him, no matter how much I try to act like his friend, he will **never** be duped again and will always see me as his enemy. Therefore, he **will** mercilessly and ruthlessly destroy **anyone** and **everyone** that I love, just to get to **me**._

Phoenix knew he should've visited Iris ages ago. He hated that he looked like a shameless opportunist because his premier visit would be accompanied by an imploration of such magnitude. There was always the disquieting possibility that upon hearing what he had to say, his ex-girlfriend would simply tell him to _drop dead_. Or even worse, start crying. So much had changed for both and what he was about to say to her would have such a monumental impact for them and so many parties involved. He had no way of predicting _how_ she was going to react.

_Holy sweet baby of Mary, please let her say yes. I'll **beg** her if I have to. There's **no other way**._

Seeing Iris again made him wish he'd taken the plunge and come to see her sooner. She was still as gracious and sweet as ever. Moreover, she almost immediately squelched his previous fears of being angry or disappointed that he hadn't been unable to get her paroled sooner, due to losing his badge.

He could see the unmasked affection on her enchanting face as she blushingly confessed to him how she'd purposely delayed retrieving the necklace because she'd loved him so dearly, and had enjoyed the intimacy that they'd shared in their months together.

While Phoenix was extremely touched and moved by the sentiment, he was loath to want to give his ex false hope about his feelings towards her now. He took a long moment to mull over his next words, choosing them carefully, so as not to lead her on. He cared about her far too much.

_Iris was my first love. Were it not for her, I never would have known what love was in the first place. Aside from the fact I'll always be grateful to her for that, she deserves so much better than for me to mislead her._

"I think I understand now." The hobo scratched the back of his neck. "Though I have to admit I'm…conflicted, you must understand. I thought you were gone. I thought you were Dahlia, the woman who tried to murder me and was in prison at one point. I don't know if I can _just jump back to over a decade ago_ …"

He cringed inwardly the moment he finished speaking.

 ** _Subtle,_** _Phoenix. **Very subtle**_. _Why not just hit her over the head with it and just scream, "It's too late for us, it's been too long, and too much has changed. I've moved on, and I'm in love with your cousin now… But will you help me out anyway?!"_

"I do understand, Feenie. And I'm willing to give you the time, and the distance if you need it. Just know that in all these years I've never stopped loving you." She pressed her hand against the glass.

He lifted his hand to match hers. It meant so much to him that she loved him. A part of him would always love her – he just wasn't _in love_ with her anymore. Although their time had passed, he still wanted her to be in his life. In the end, Iris Hawthorne was not a bad person. She'd merely been an innocent and naïve girl who'd been easily swayed into making regretful decisions because she had put her faith and trust in the wrong people. He could no longer fault her for that. To do so would be hypocritical. Hadn't _he_ been guilty of erroneous judgement as well? Wasn't the reason _Phoenix_ was in his current predicament due to the very same thing?

"And a part of me has always had a special place for you in my heart as well, and always will, Iris." His heartfelt words were spoken with the utmost sincerity. "It's _because_ of this soft spot I have for you that I did whatever I could for you to help you out…so I'm pleased to tell you that despite my grievous misfortune, I have some good news for you."

He then proceeded to tell her how Edgeworth had followed through with her early release request on his behalf and that she would be a free woman within a fortnight.

Tears of gratitude filled her doe eyes.

"Oh, Feenie, thank you," she whispered. "I can't believe after what I've done, you still went and did this for me. I am forever in your debt, love. If there's ever anything I can do for you at all…"

 _Give me strength,_ he silently prayed, to whatever forces that might have been listening. He didn't want to come across as capitalizing on Iris' current vulnerable state while being incarcerated or appear to be taking advantage of the fact that she still had feelings for him.

However, he couldn't help how he felt, or whom he loved.

Phoenix Wright loved Maya Fey enough to sacrifice his personal happiness. As much as it gutted him, he _would_ remove her from his life, if in the end, it meant _saving_ **_her_** _life_. Moreover, he needed to hope and pray that if Iris truly loved him, in the selfless, noble way it appeared that she did, she would find in her heart to help him.

But in the end, this wasn't _for_ him, or even _about_ him. He desperately needed to convey that _this_ was bigger than _both_ of them; make Iris see this was ultimately not only the _right_ thing to do but also the _only_ option they had.

This wasn't merely about imploring for the aid of a former lover because she was made to feel like she _owed him_ due to all he'd done for her; that was a trump card he _refused_ to play.

This was _not_ a case of _tit-for-tat._

This was about protecting an innocent bystander. The _love of his life –_ and Iris' _kinswoman_.

This was about a solemn vow he'd made seven years ago, to a longtime dead woman who'd meant the world to him. An avowal he intended to keep until the day he drew his last breath.

"Actually, Iris, there _is_ something that would make me a very happy man," Phoenix began awkwardly. "I know this is sudden and unexpected but I really hope the answer will be yes…"

Her gentle orbs were filled with a kindness that seemed so innocuous and earnest so endless; as big as the sea.

"Go on," she urged gently.

"Iris, for your safety, I will not disclose names, but I need you to believe me when I tell you everything I'm about to disclose is the God's honest truth."

Phoenix gathered up all his wits and then expelled it all out in one breath.

"For reasons, I still cannot completely fathom, I have somehow made it into the bad books of a very dangerous, sinister man out there, who would do _anything_ to see me suffer. Besides, it's no longer limited to _just_ me, but _anybody_ I love. It makes no difference to him whether or not his target is a good person, who has never so much as harmed a fly in their life, and that _the sole_ mistake they have ever been guilty of is having known _me_. He doesn't care. To _ruin_ me, to _torture_ me, he _will_ destroy, and possibly even _kill_ , if it so pleases him, without recourse or remorse."

He closed his eyes and had to swallow hard before he could continue

"You mean a lot to me, Iris, and I wouldn't _ever_ try to endanger your life in exchange for another's. Please be assured that I authentically believe you wouldn't be in any sort of peril should you agree to this; partially because of how far away and remote you will be up at the temple, which I know you rarely leave. Hence, you will be safe there. Furthermore, I'll ensure you and I are _never_ seen together in the meantime. Essentially, I will stay away from _you_ , as well, until this all blows over, just to err on the side of caution."

The former lawyer gazed beseechingly into her confounded visage.

"I have zero alternatives remaining. I have tried to sneak around these past six years, but the devil has eyes in the back of his head. He drifts in and out of our lives, never giving us rest, threatening us and those around us, with death. We are on the run without moving and even if we tried to skedaddle, that demon would still somehow bring us down. The evil one is satisfied to let us live as long as we stay where we are and do not challenge him. We are his playthings, nothing more than puppets for his sadistic amusement."

Tears of sympathy glistened in those Bambi orbs as she saw the twin sapphires beginning to mist over.

"Iris, you need to understand just how stubborn and tenacious your cousin is. There are no bounds to her loyalty and love, which would make her insist on remaining at my side, even if it potentially costs Maya _her own life_. However, I love her too damned much to let that happen! She's essentially the mother of your baby sister now, and I _cannot_ , even unwittingly _,_ be responsible for taking away another parent from that little girl – not _again!"_

His hands began to shake.

"Truth be known, you may not need to even do anything at all. Once his stalker _Arsch_ finds out that Maya and I have _legitimately_ severed ties this time, I know he'll leave her alone. And he _will_ know – due to the whole forged channeling fiasco from years ago, any of the Kurain Master's personal associations are still decisively in the public eye."

"I understand," she nodded.

"You need to comprehend that this is my _final_ resort _,_ " he implored, affixing her with a pleading expression. "At this point, I have exhausted _all_ options. I can't think of _any_ other way to keep Maya safe, except to keep her _as far away from me_ as possible. Iris, please forgive me for even _thinking_ of asking of you what I'm about to."

"Feenie, it's all right," she assured him. "I owe you the world. Ask me for anything and it's yours."

"Iris," he whispered hoarsely. "Should it comes down to it, and only _if_ I _have_ to, I _will_ tell your cousin that I'm leaving her… f – for _you_. The favor is if she, _or anyone else,_ should ask you for confirmation about this, I'm _begging_ you to go along with the ruse as if it were true and tell them that _yes, it is_."

The shrine maiden's eyes widened in surprise as she listened. Then they began to shine with the limpid adoration and affection of a woman who still loved a man desperately, even a decade later. Before she could reply though, fate once again decided to be the bitch that it always had been, in the form of the warden, who chose that exact moment to announce that their time was up. He barely restrained from pounding at the glass in agitation.

"Iris, I promise I'll be back soon. I'll bring Trucy next time so you can meet her," he vowed, rising from his seat. "And I'll be there the day you're released to pick you up, I swear."

_I hope the suspense doesn't kill me in the meantime while I await her answer…_

"Feenie, anything for you." Iris smiled softly.

She once again placed her hand on the glass that kept them apart. Then, a small smile playing upon her lips, she surreptitiously gave a tiny nod of her head. His intense eyes betraying a myriad of emotions as he looked at her, Phoenix met with her hand for one last time, before his former love had to be led away.

He then slowly headed out, his mind racing with the events that had just happened, as he contemplated what his next steps would be now that he knew that Iris had said _yes_.

_Maya, my love, I will sacrifice my own life to keep you safe, but to me, sacrifice can only ever be a personal decision about oneself to be noble. I will never ask you for the same in return because I trust in your ability to think and make decisions for yourself. If what appeared to be God Himself demanded that I sacrifice you, I would tell Him to go straight to hell, for I know that such a command could never come from God. He would never demand a betrayal of love, and that is what it would be. He would never approach me through fear because that is not His way. I pray the day will come when I will no longer feel fear and I will know my path, but in the meantime, I can only pray I'm choosing the right one._

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
March 2, 2025, 2:29 AM

That night's shift at the bar had seemed particularly endless for him, although part of him hadn't cared whether it finally ended or not. What did it matter anymore? _What_ exactly was left for him to anticipate when he got out of there, aside from breaking the heart of the woman he loved, while simultaneously ripping _his_ still-beating heart out of his own chest in the process?

All week long, he'd been playing dodgeball with his girlfriend's phone calls while she'd been away in Louisiana, opting to shoot her a quick text in reply whenever possible. Phoenix fully admitted that it was a horrible act of cowardice on his behalf, but considering what he now _had_ to do, he knew that if he were to hear her voice again before _the time arrived_ , he wasn't entirely sure he would legitimately be able to go through with it. Maya was his soulmate after all, and even over the phone would be able to read him like a book. He would have to do everything he could to keep his voice level, and at least have the courtesy to perform the necessary means in person – after all these years, she surely at least deserved _that_ much.

The voicemail she had left him earlier that evening, the sobs evident in her voice even though she was struggling to sound normal, had nearly consumed him.

"Nick, it's me. Please call me as soon as you get this message. It doesn't matter what time it is. It's very important, and I need to talk to you so bad. I'll be waiting for your call. And Nick, baby, I love you."

The pianist had never before felt so helpless and at a complete loss of what to do. He knew a call of such obvious importance would take much longer than the standard 15-minute break he was normally allowed, yet warranted much more than a mere text in reply. Surely, it was a borderline emergency, considering that in the last six years, the psychic had very rarely called him when she knew he was at work.

Besides, what in the blueberry muffin fuck could he _possibly_ do to help her at this point in the game? Console her, hold her in his arms, try to soothe her about whatever had caused her such distress… And _then_ later break up with her _ten_ minutes later, rather than _five_? That would be too cruel, and he'd be then going about this all wrong. He would need to approach this in the same manner that one would pull a Band-Aid; _quickly_ and _in one go_.

Not _slowly and painstakingly_ , which would only unnecessarily prolong the agony.

Tyler gave him a ride from the bar and he'd been home for about five minutes before he finally summoned up the courage to return the diviner's call.

"Nick, thank God you called!" She puled by way of greeting. "I've nearly been losing my mind!"

The card shark had to take the world's most pregnant pause to steady his voice before he could speak. Maya was normally the most cheery, sunny person he'd ever known, but right now, he could hear the tremor in her voice, and the tears threatening to fall just beneath the surface. It made a lump form in his own throat. He hated it when she cried.

"I got your message, and here I am, returning your call," he finally answered, in his best matter-of-fact tone while trying not to sound too emotionally invested. Nothing good could come from giving Maya a false sense of security while attempting to comfort her, only to end things right afterward! The last thing he wanted to do was entirely blindside her! Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to allude that something was possibly awry. "What's gotten you so worked up, Maya?"

There was an uncomfortable silence on the phone before his girlfriend finally spoke at last. Through barely suppressed tears, Phoenix listened with a heavy heart as she haltingly explained to him the devastating chain of events that had occurred in Kurain earlier that evening. He could hear the lachrymose in her words as she poured out her myriad of fears over the arrangement, the fact that it was such an important strategic tactical alliance, and that she was supposed to be fulfilling her duty as Kurain Master, otherwise the old crones would give and make her life a living hell. He listened, with a heavy heart, as she broke down into tears at the idea of being coerced to align her future with another man when her heart already belonged to _him_.

Phoenix listened in silent sympathy, all the while struggling not to break down and cry along with her, something he had been forcing himself not to do from the moment he'd first heard her voice.

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise, however. Mildew was a diabolical fiend in her own right, but compared to Kristoph, she was like _a fart in a hurricane_. He would just have to convince Maya to agree to the matchmaking, for the better good of her people, and to simply forget about him henceforth. Yes, it would still sting, but ultimately cause her much less pain in the long run if he played the card of being an advocate to the whole premise of it being 'for a greater good.'

Steeling himself, he heard his own cadence, mild, calm, and neutral, offering to come up and see her the next night after he was finished work.

"Y-You want to come up here to Kurain, t-tomorrow?" She stammered. "I mean, you can – everyone will have long since gone to bed as you get off so late. Um, except, of course, for me. So there are no issues with sneaking you in. I mean, this is so nice of you, Nick – but it will be about 4:00 in the morning when you get up here, won't you be too tired?"

_I will undoubtedly be beyond drained, but that's because I haven't slept a wink since this whole nightmare with Gavin began. The key thing, my love, is that since you wake up so early in the mornings, I **know** that **you** will be tired as well, and if I time this just right, you'll have undoubtedly already gone to bed much earlier that night, before you wake up to come to meet me. I'm a gambling man, and this is the ultimate bet to make, but the last decade of knowing you has made me fully aware of the fact that there will be **a very specific item** that **will be missing** from your person, which you **never** wear when you go to bed._

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. These are extenuating circumstances, after all. I'll see if I can duck out of work a bit early and if I can borrow Gumshoe's car. Driving-wise, Kurain is only about 90 minutes away, possibly faster at that time of night since there's no traffic."

It was a premature promise on his behalf of course. There was no guarantee at all that Gumshoe would loan him the car, but just as he'd had to wager on Iris willing to help him, he would once again have to hope that the deck was stacked in his favor, two for two.

"Nick, I don't want you to go through so much trouble and risk –"

He quickly brushed aside her concerns about the illegality of driving without a license, refusing to let her believe he was acting like a selfless hero on her behalf when all he was ensuring was that he could expedite her heartache, and curtly interrupted her protests.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Maya, even if I have to walk there," Phoenix abruptly cut her off, silencing any further objections she'd been about to make. "It's getting late and I'm sure you've had a draining evening. I know _I_ sure am beat! Goodnight."

He clicked off before Maya could even respond with what she _always_ said before letting him go.

_"I love you, Nick."_

Phoenix didn't want to hear it. He had numbed himself so thoroughly for these past few weeks in preparation of bracing himself _for the inevitable impact_ , that very few things at this point could have torn him apart even more than he already was. Nevertheless, he couldn't _bear_ to hear those words come from her lips, _ever again._

Because he already knew _that_ would have been his undoing.

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey_**  
 _Kurain Village_  
March 3, 2025, 3:15 AM

Maya was waiting at the main entrance of the village when she saw a set of headlights flash on her, bathing her in its glaring brightness as an enormous dark car pulled up. Turning off the engine and pocketing his keys, Phoenix exited the car swiftly and looked at her, a slight smile on his lips.

Just as he had hoped, his girlfriend looked as though she'd just woken up. Her glorious onyx hair that he so loved was tousled from bedhead, tumbling freely around her delicate face, down her back, and past her hips. Over her nightgown, she wore a light cloak to protect her from the slightly chilly night air, although it wasn't fully buttoned up. He could make out the delicate, exposed skin of her pale throat, _free from any sort of telltale, mystic gemstone_ , just as he'd hoped and planned, so that was no surprise.

What _did_ surprise him, however, was that she _was_ wearing the locket he'd given her on her 21st birthday. Maya hadn't been kidding when told him that she _rarely ever_ took the cherished item off! It seemed just dumb luck then, that he _had_ been correct in assuming that _the other neck adornment_ she always wore wasn't present!

 _Wait_ , there was something _else_ hidden under the chain that held the locket. Phoenix stopped breathing for a moment, wondering if he had been wrong in his gamble, after all, but then let out a silent sigh of relief that it was only a secondary, silver chain, thinner than the gold, on which she wore the promise ring that he had given her for Christmas.

It was always cooler up in Kurain than it was in Los Angeles, and Phoenix was grateful that he had kept on his beanie to at least protect his head from the draft, despite knowing how much his girlfriend hated the hat, figuring soon enough, that wouldn't matter anyway.

There must've been something in his expression that kept her from making one of her playful attempts to pull it off of his head or make one of her usual jokes about her aversion because she did neither.

It felt strange not to hug or kiss her by way of greeting, but he wisely kept his distance, knowing that if he were to so much as lay a hand upon her, he would never, _ever_ let her go.

"Brutus drives like a dream," he told her, deliberately keeping his voice casual. "Handles great even on sharp turns. I have to admit, I'm going to be mighty sad handing him back to his owner."

"I'm surprised being a cop again, that Gumshoe loaned it to you – considering you don't have a license."

"He didn't ask." Phoenix shrugged. "My motto – don't ask don't tell."

Maya looked startled by his reply, but said nothing, opting instead to mimic his action of jamming his hands into his sweatshirt pockets by placing her own into the pockets of her cloak. They continued to stare at one another, and he realized, with a pang, that for the first time in 10 years, his little chatterbox was at a loss for words with him. She _knew_ something wasn't right and didn't know _what_ to say, any more than _he_ did at that moment.

"Does this thing have wings? Because you must have flown it to get up here just after 3:00 when you left the bar at 2:00," she asked lightly, at last breaking the silence. "How lead was that driving foot of yours coming up here, Nick?"

"I got time off for good behavior," the pianist smirked. "So I got to leave about fifteen minutes earlier than planned. Also, since Gumshoe uses Brutus for work and home, that baby's got an inner light bar in the back that silently flashes when going, ah, high speeds on the roads…you'd be surprised how fast folks in other cars get out of your way!"

He caught Maya's disapproving frown at that, and a spark of hope flared within him. Maybe he could convince her that he _was_ little more than a no-goodnik and reckless individual! One who dabbled in borderline criminal behavior and hence _was_ beneath her, ergo, she truly _would_ be better without him! After all, he'd already confessed to driving without a license, as well as speeding in a policeman's borrowed car. Perhaps, at last, finding out he was a lowlife poker shark would be enough to make her see that she'd unknowingly been _slumming_ for the past six years and that there had been some true validation in the elder's disapproval of him. The question was, how the hell to bring all this up into the presently stilted conversation?!

"So, what did you tell Trucy this time?" The psychic inquired, looking uncomfortable.

_Perfect! Full-blown occupational confession time coming right up!_

"She worked tonight, and I sent her a text telling her _I was in a late-night poker game_ and might not be back till she's in school. Luckily, she's old enough now to be home alone and can get herself dressed and to school without my help anymore. But still, I hate having to lie to her."

Unfortunately, upon hearing this, Maya nonetheless appeared more confused than unimpressed, which he'd hoped she would be.

" _A poker game_? I'm confused. I thought you played piano at The Borscht Bowl?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I haven't mentioned, have I? My bad," Phoenix smirked. "I'm a double agent at the bar – I play a lousy night of piano till about 11:00, then I go downstairs to the Hydeout in the basement and let the poker sharks take a crack at the undefeated poker champion."

"Undefeated poker champion?" Maya's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Nick, you're _gambling_?"

_Here we go! One scummy, seedy, underground card shark and **ex-boyfriend** , coming right up!_

"For the past six years," he affirmed smugly, pretending to be unaffected by her stupefied reaction. "The piano playing is a _front_ , Maya. I've been making a living playing poker right from the start. But relax, it's nothing illegal. We play for glory, not money. I'm the undefeated Baron of Bluffing. All those years of bluffing my way through court made it a transferable skill, I suppose."

"It still sounds sort of shady…" Maya said tentatively. "I don't mean to sound so pious…it's just that…"

_Dammit, Maya stop making this so hard! Don't try to be understanding about the fact that you are **miles above me** in stature and could do so much better! Why the hell can't you just be like the rest of the world and look at me with disgust and disapproval for what I have become?! You're just going to **force** me to be a **completely heartless asshole,** aren't you?_

"It doesn't sound too prudent for a prestigious village master to be associating with a lowlife poker shark, is that it?" Phoenix sneered, using a contemptuous tone that he'd had no idea he was capable of until then. "Is _that_ what you meant?"

Maya drew back and stared at him, liquid beads filling her eyes.

 _Tears. Already_. His stomach sank. He hadn't even been there _five minutes._

"How could you say such a thing to me, Nick? I've _never_ looked down at you! I've stood by you, even when you told me _not_ to! Do you really think something as trivial as telling me something like you play underground cards is all it'd take to make me start _now_?"

Phoenix didn't know _how_ he was going to be able to do this, but one thing was for sure – there was no way in hell he'd be able to if it meant he had to keep _looking_ at her – especially _not_ while she had that thunderstruck expression on her lovely face. His eyes were focused on the ground as he mumbled his next words.

"Maybe not. But it's just another black mark against me in the eyes of the elders if they ever get wind of this. Someday, Maya, you'll wise up and see me the way they do – as someone who's a worthless bum, and who is beneath you and unworthy of you in every way possible."

"Are we on _this_ _again_ , Nick?" Maya's hurt expression evaporated and was replaced by the familiar one of exasperation. "Did someone build a time machine and put us back in the year 2020 again? _What_ does it take to convince you that _I don't care_ what those hags think! I'm not a snob! I don't care what occupation you have! And I don't care what they think about you!"

_That kind, beautiful heart which I have always loved about you will be your undoing, my love. It will only make this more difficult. **Why** must you make this be so hard?! **Why** must you be such a **saint**?!_

"You _should_. Because they're right about me, Maya." The excruciation he held within was reflected in his eyes as he forced himself to give her a hard stare then. "Trust me, the day _will_ come, when one day, you'll hate me."

"Why would you say such a thing?" He heard her take a sharp inward breath. "I love you. I can't live without you."

_Yes, you can, love of my life. Because you're the strongest woman I've ever known and you're tougher than you think. Also, because I'm not going to leave you any other choice._

"It's what happens to a great love when the expectations are too high." Phoenix focused on ensuring that his inflection matched the intensity of his expression. "We'll be fine for a while, then the monotony of having a lover who is nothing more than hobo bum will kick in. And you'll realize you're a woman of great power and prestige who has been wasting her life slumming it with poker shark, a fake pianist. A borderline criminal, with no name or money. One whose stigma of being a disbarred forging attorney will forever plague us wherever we go."

"Nick, _why_ are you talking like this?" Maya wailed. She went on with counter-arguments for every reason he gave her about his unworthiness, stating that they would find solutions to all their problems if they worked together, while he contradicted each statement with steadfast rebuttals about how not all problems were able to be solved.

"I can't do this anymore, can't you see that?" Phoenix cried, jumping to his feet and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Being with me is going to tear you apart! These elders _don't_ have the wrong idea! You should try to find a better man than me, who can give you the life, the love, the family you deserve! If you stay with me, I'll kill you bit by bit. That's what I do to those who love me."

"Nick, don't –"

"Why, I'm not altogether sure. But when you soar high, I'll only drag you down. I'll stir up your anxieties, just to be the one to soothe you and help you to find fault with anyone that competes for your attention. This is about as fair as I can be, it's your warning. You're settling by being with me, choosing this life! Heed my words, Maya! If you know me at all, you'll realize this isn't a joke."

Phoenix grabbed her face in his hands, tilting it up and watching as the tears filled her beautiful eyes and swallowed hard.

"So, my smitten lover, you have some thinking to do."

"I don't _want_ another husband!" Maya shouted, the droplets beginning to trickle down her face as she frantically grasped his hands and clasped them to her cheeks, needing to feel his touch. "I want _you!_ I love _you_ , Nick! I'll _wait_ for you! How can you say these things about yourself? It doesn't matter what the world or society thinks! Being with you rises me up, gives me a reason for _being_. You could never drag me down!"

"But I've already begun to, Maya. I heard it in your voice when you told me what the Dragon Lady was planning for you." His voice was raw with emotion. "She wants better for you, even though her methods might be unorthodox, and so do I! Being a woman of your stature, being forced to be with a _nobody_ like me has been _killing you softly_ all these years; you just can't admit it, even though I've seen it!"

She started shaking her head in denial, but he shook her gently, trying desperately to make her understand.

_You love me so much that you'll sacrifice yourself; you'll walk right into the flames and never blink or look back. You love me so much that you'll give me the things I need at the expense of yourself. So, time to prove yourself little one, walk into certain death and do it for me. Then I shall remember you as one who loved me and you will live on in my memory, immortalized. I will be quite safe, but you will be dead. That **is** what you want, right? You **do** love me, don't you? If you don't then I guess you don't love me; in which case, I don't love you either._

Was _that_ the sort of monstrous thing he'd have to say to make her _finally_ understand?!

Phoenix tried to turn deaf ears to her heart-wrenching cries that she didn't _want_ another husband; she only wanted _him_. She stood directly in his path when he tried to walk around her and put her face so close to his that they were nearly lip to lip, but with great effort, he shook his head and pulled away. Then, with the few remaining shards of willpower he had left within him, he hardened his heart. Putting on his best poker face, he slouched shoulders, jammed his hands into his pockets, and turned to leave.

"Please, let's just say to hell with the elders, to _everything_ , Nick!" Maya begged. Slow, desolate liquid beads ran from her unblinking eyes and dripped steadily into her nightshirt. "We've talked about this before, let's just grab Trucy and Pearly, and just run away! To Canada! To Connecticut! To _anywhere but here_! We can find a place where nobody can trace our whereabouts! Where no one can find us and give us orders or tell us what the rules are…"

It was no use. There was no scapegoat he could possibly use to get out of this. It was just as he had feared – she loved him too damn much to listen to logic or reason. Phoenix barely choked back a sob. Maya was going to _force_ him to do it. He was going to have to use _the ultimate trump card_ , which he had silently been praying would be _a last resort_ and one that he had _never_ wanted to utilize.

_Leaving is killing my soul as sure as a dagger can stop a beating heart. It isn't easy to leave, even when it's the only option available. If there were any hope at all, I would stay by your side and choose to die in the dark, for without your love I will cease to exist. If I stay, I lose you for sure. If I go, while there shan't be a chance for our togetherness, someday, with another, you will find a peaceful life, with love. I pray someday you will understand; pray that you keep the memory of our love alive in your soul and one day that you're able to think of me with **just one iota less** of the hatred you are about to feel in this next instant._

One second passed. Two seconds passed. Three seconds passed. Already the guilt for what he was about to do was slowly burning him from with. A fire burned in his mind and throat. Remorse hit him like a sledgehammer before he even forced his lips to form the ugly words to pull off the ultimate bluff of his entire life. Bile rose in his throat as he steeled himself.

Summoning up his former courtroom persona, Phoenix spoke with as much conviction as he possibly could, just as he had in his attorney days. He affixed his best poker face in full effect, looking and sounding as though he _believed_ the virulent bullshit about to spew from his mouth, despite the heavy nausea building within his gut, making him feel like he was going to vomit at any moment.

"Maya, please stop this." It sounded like ground glass, not his vocal cords, that formed the words, and he even managed to pull off what he hoped was a pitying expression as he made himself meet those rich as molasses orbs, which were still glistening. "I didn't want to have to tell you this – I was hoping I could just let things end with a clean break between us but it looks like you've left me with no choice but to tell you the entire, terrible truth."

He took a deep breath.

"I got an email from Edgeworth a few weeks ago. The motion plea we put through for early release for Godot and Iris has been granted. He got out in December – he's been the one sending me that gourmet coffee in the mail I've been telling you about. And Iris… is being granted early parole as well. She's being released from prison this Friday."

Maya stayed silent as her pooling, deep brown orbs stared deep into his soul. The betrayed expression already forming on her ethereal visage almost made him lose the nerve to continue.

The dread of this final nail he had to drive into the coffin felt like an invisible demon sitting heavily on his shoulders and only he could hear the sharpening of its knives. He felt himself sweat-dropping and becoming pale, then the tremor in his hands began. His head felt dizzy and the bilious feeling in his stomach intensified.

"I went to go see her two weeks ago, Maya." The card shark's mien was twisted in torment. "Seeing Iris again, after so long…it was as though the years had stood still – as if no time had passed for us at all."

As the cascading rivulets raced down her cheeks, he felt his will almost caving thoroughly as he noted the pain in those expressive jeweled orbs. Pain that _he_ had caused.

 _Lord split me into two whole halves but_ _fuck all this shit and my goddamned, so-called poker face! Once upon a time, I could bluff and lie to anyone's face in the courtroom. I still can on the poker table, but there's no way in hell I can look **this** **woman** the eye and say what I'm about to say. Maybe I can look anyone else in the eye and lie, but not **her**. I can't. I just **can't**._

"Maya … Iris – she never stopped loving me." He dropped his gaze then, so she could no longer see his tormented expression. If she did, it would all be over. "And when I saw her again…I realized I felt the same way. I never stopped loving her either. Sh – She was my first love. We were each other's, first love. You never forget your first, Maya. We have another rare chance to try again … and I _have_ to take it."

His despairing gaze was still on the ground as he mumbled his next words, which nearly got his stuck in his throat, but somehow, he forced them out.

"I hate to do this to you but I can't go on lying to you any longer."

"You're _kidding_ , right?" The anger and hurt in her cadence were beyond torturous to hear.

"No, Maya, it's over." He slowly turned away, biting his lower lip as hard as he could to combat the burning sensation prickling behind his lids. He tried to blink them away and when he realized that he couldn't, he pulled up the hood of his jacket and continued staring at the ground.

"You're – _sorry?!"_ She screamed, her cadence barely recognizable to him because it was so shrill with incredulity. "I was gone away for _one week_ …and in that time you're telling me _you secretly met, fell in love with, and are leaving me_ , not for all the bullshit excuses you just spewed at me about not being good enough, or because of the elders, but _for my cousin_? Because she was your _first?!_ _You_ were _my_ first! Does that not matter at all to you, you _soulless son of a bitch_? I gave you my _heart_ … my _body_ … my _virginity_ …"

She broke down then, the rivets now pouring down her cheeks in unending streams, unable to go on.

With shattering remorse, Phoenix listened to her weep as the bereft spirit medium cried her heart out in harsh, wracking sobs that shook her tiny frame with such violence that he thought they would surely tear her apart. He punished himself with the sound of her muffled weeping and lashed himself with the tears that poured from her eyes.

"It _wasn't_ bullshit, Maya." He finally managed to choke out, somehow managing to sound somewhat controlled, even though a part of him had officially died inside.

She glared at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"I meant what I said. You _are_ too far above me in stature." His voice was no longer his own. This deadened, soulless monotone emitting from his mouth sounded like a stranger's while belying his inner turmoil. "It just wouldn't work in the long run. As it is, we only see one another a couple of times a month, and only in hiding! That's no way to live your life. With Iris, there's no need to sneak around, or deal with any drama from the elders, or need to worry about societal expectations. I'm a low-life poker player. She's been to prison. We're two peas in a pod when you think about it. Both on the bottom rung of society, really."

From somewhere within him, he managed to conjure up a short, dry laugh. It was a harsh sound, utterly devoid of mirth, and made him sound every bit the heartless son of a bitch he wanted her to think he was.

"Aside from our shared history, we genuinely can relate to and understand one another, don't you see?"

"You've been plotting this all along, haven't you?" Maya wept, wrapping her arms around herself in a vain effort to contain the sobs that wracked her slender body. "Was I just your filler girlfriend until she was released? Was she the one you loved all along even while you were singing songs to me and giving me jewelry and making love to me …?"

Phoenix hadn't seen her look so shattered and grief-struck since Mia had died. He had to somehow _make_ her channel that sadness into anger. _Rage,_ he could deal with. It was the _tears_ that were stabbing daggers into his heart; killing him softly, with every passing moment.

"No," he denied flatly, his mask back in full effect now that the worst part of the lie was over. He purposely kept his expression unreadable. "I didn't realize I'd never gotten over Iris until I laid eyes on her again. And – I really did care about you Maya. I still do. Please know that."

Mercifully, his intended acerbic verbal darts, at last, seemed to have the desired effect he had been seeking, as her heartbroken expression slowly became replaced by one of righteous fury.

"You _care_ for me?" She shouted, glaring at him with outraged indignation even as the droplets continued to fall. "You care for a _cat_ , or a _dog_ , or for your … _clients_! Me … I gave you my _virtue_ … _my_ soul… my _all_ … and _you_ tell me … you _care_ for me?!"

_I can't take this anymore! She's tearing me apart…_

Try as he might, Phoenix couldn't _bear_ looking at that tear-streaked face another minute! He expelled a ragged breath as he reached out his palm in a final attempt to comfort her.

 _"No!_ Don't touch me!" She shrieked, slapping at his hand. "Don't you dare touch me, Phoenix Wright! Never, _ever_ again!"

As she glared at him, with a combination of sorrow and betrayal etched on her face, Maya's body jerked with suppressed sobs, until the burden of holding them back was more than she could bear. As much as she obviously wanted to be held and comforted, she knew better than to seek this comfort from her own tormentor. Shuddering on a lonely, convulsive cry, she wrapped her arms around herself and wept.

Phoenix stood there, staring helplessly at the only woman he had ever truly loved, powerless either to console her or regain her.

 _How could the day have come that I had to do this to her,_ he wondered achingly. _When all I've **ever** wanted to do was love and cherish and protect her? Instead, I've just coldly and deliberately broken her heart._

Maya's hands were trembling as she reached behind her neck then and undid the clasp of the gold chain that held the locket, which she never took off. She was alone, scared, and devastated. Her heart now felt butchered, her love taken away bit by bit. Her voice quivered as she spoke.

"I invented every excuse for staying. I must admit, and I think you'd agree with me, I got pretty creative over time. Yet you kept giving me every reason to leave. And I still tried to ignore them, like a lovesick fool; like a drug addict dying from an overdose. It seemed like in those days, even if I'd died, if I'd have let you kill me, I still would have made an apology for you to use. You should've given me something to hold on, like a fake hope, or a beautiful lie; maybe then things would've gone differently. Maybe you'd have changed and let us grow healthy into something beautiful, instead of opting for Iris. We both know it's because she's the easier choice, and no reason other than that!"

Maya gripped the locket in her hand for the last time before flinging it at him, not caring as it bounced harmlessly off his chest and onto the ground.

Phoenix didn't make a move to pick it up; he couldn't let her know that the strike of that weightless object, the one bearing the initial promise of his eternal love for her, had walloped him with the same damage as an actual bullet wound. The love that had nestled in his soul and made him a better man now reached out with its clawed hand and tore at his chest, taking his own ravaged heart in its relentless clasp as a decade of memories swirled through the melancholic recesses of his mind.

* * *

There was the moment when he'd realized he had been complacent for far too long and he now had to make a grand gesture to let Maya know how much she meant to him or risk losing her forever…

_Phoenix stared after her, completely disheartened. This time, he had screwed things up so badly beyond probable repair that it would take a bloody **miracle**. Because Maya Fey wasn't his assistant or roommate any longer. She didn't **have** to come back the next day._

**_She didn't have to come back at all._ **

_That dawning realization made Phoenix feel a panic building inside him unlike any he'd ever experienced; even worse than when he'd crossed that burning bridge. Because the fear of **losing his life** hadn't even come close to the terrifying concept of **losing** **the love of his life**._

**_Without Maya Fey, life had no meaning._ **

_He had to do something drastic, **now**. And do it fast._

_That had been the night he'd thrown Willie Effastop, the unsuspecting, frog-mouthed pianist off the piano bench, and commenced his piano playing debut by singing "I Would Break Every Law For You."_

_Because love is a friendship set to music._

**_Because Phoenix loved Maya Fey more than anything in the world and hadn't given a damn who knew it._**

* * *

He would never forget the first time they had finally said they loved each other, after her birthday party at The Borscht Bowl.

**_Because I could watch you for a minute and find a thousand things I love about you._ **

_His eyes locked on hers. Sapphire against topaz. He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly, reverently, no longer quite so surprised that this was happening, that he needed her so badly. She responded in kind, letting him know now in all certainty that his ardor was most definitely not one-sided. When they finally parted, both were breathless and panting. Phoenix rested his forehead against Maya's, pulling her so tightly against him she could feel his rapid heartbeat against hers._

_"I love you," she whispered against his chest._

_"What was that? I didn't hear you."_

_"Don't push me."_

_"I love you, too," he said. He put his cheek against hers. "So much."_

* * *

Forever seared into his memories was the night of her 21st birthday, when she had so sweetly, innocently, given herself to him, body, and soul. She had been a virgin, and afraid, yet so trusting and alacritous that it had ended up being one of the most intense, passionate, unforgettable nights of both their lives.

_"My love," he breathed. "Tell me this is what you want."_

_"I want your weight on top of me more than I've ever wanted something in my whole life, Nick. I want to be connected body and soul with you more than anything in the world, here and now, on this bed, at this moment. I just beg of you, don't stop. I want to be your woman, and only yours. Make me yours. Please."_

_Lifting himself over her, he, at last, did as she'd yearned him to, and made her his. During their whole union, they held on to each other as if the world would burst apart if they let go._

_Only then, did Phoenix lift his gaze to her face and saw the tears trickling from Maya's eyes. Only then, did he realize his own eyes were wet as well._

_There was great beauty in being joined with your soul mate. Simultaneously, they both cried out as they soared over the edge and all the way to the far side of paradise together._

* * *

He remembered how jumpy and nervous he'd been before presenting her with that ring at Christmas. He'd been so anxious about whether or not she would like it, or understand the intended profound meaning behind the simple token that represented his love everlasting. If she'd even _accept_ it.

_"It's only a silver one right now," he said shyly. "I promise you someday when I have more money, to get you one of white gold, or any gold you like, and a bigger rock, when I'm able to get you a proper betrothal ring. In the meantime, consider this the prequel to your someday-hopefully-soon engagement ring."_

_"Is this a promise ring?" She looked with delight at the delicate design, and then, when her shining eyes were raised, she found him watching her with somber intensity as he nodded. With the intensity of a man who loved her. Just like she loved him._

_"It's beautiful," she whispered, reverently reaching out for it._

_"Read the inscription." His voice was textured with emotion as she read the words **forever yours, faithfully** engraved on the back. There were tears in her eyes as he then slipped it onto her finger, then he lifted her ringed hand and kissed it tenderly._

_"Maya Fey, I'm forever yours. Faithfully." Then he pulled her against his hard, broad chest and kissed her senseless._

* * *

Through everything, the good, and the bad, they had clung together like two sailors in a storm. He would have laid down his life for her and she would have for him. They were two halves that made a whole. He knew with all certainty that the love that had saved him till that point would now break him.

Maya was too busy sobbing to see that Phoenix's head was thrown back, eyes clenched shut, his features a mask of tortured anguish as he remembered every detail of how he'd fallen for her eight years previously. How he had become her hero when she'd been captured, while at the same time, he'd finally realized that somewhere along the line, _she_ had captured _his_ heart. And for that reason, he had wanted to become a better man. _Because of_ _her_.

"Or maybe I'd have finally let you crush me into a million pieces, and perhaps I very well would've ended up as the broken photograph taken from an obituary. But for once, you'd say just for once, I listened to you, not to your lying eyes or your false words. For once I got further and listened to the things that cannot be faked. Yes, you told me in so many ways that I should leave you, go far away and never go back. I didn't listen, as I've never given up on a person ever, in my whole life. Yet now it seems, I have no choice."

She yanked the silver chain the promise ring had been dangling from around her neck, didn't even bother trying to undo the clasp, and felt some grim vindication as she felt it break in two. Just like her heart. She aimed and hurled that at him too. It hit him right in the face.

_Only a lover such as you can cause pain as deep as this. Only one all the way inside a heart can shatter it with just a few words and actions._

Not even caring about how telling the motion was, this time, Phoenix caught the ring before it fell to the earth beneath them.

But still, he didn't move. Didn't even blink. He was slowly unraveling at the seams and if he had been capable of uttering anything at all, it would be to plead for her forgiveness.

"You were my _life!_ Now you're nothing more than a mere slither of worthlessness. I _trusted_ you! I _loved_ you! I prayed to God that you remained healthy, happy, and strong. And _this_ is how you repay me! _This!_ Telling me you loved me, taking my body whenever you pleased … and in the end, having the colossal nerve and audacity to tell me your heart lies with _my cousin?!"_

Then her hand moved, as if on its own volition, and she reached out and sharply slapped him cleanly across the face.

The sound of the blow was as loud as a clap and stung his cheek. It had been an open-handed smack, and it had left a red welt behind. Phoenix staggered backward, clutching the one side of his afflicted mien as he stared at her in shocked disbelief at what she'd just done, even though he knew he'd wholly deserved it.

He mentally ran through every coarse, discourteous, stinging barb he had been driven to say to her. Each damaging word he had spoken, and the humiliation it had caused her, paraded across his mind, bringing a sharp, agonizing pain as he punished himself by going over and over every vicious thing he had said and done.

"Now get out of my village, you heartless, low-life, Godforsaken _bastard!_ You are nothing to me anymore, Phoenix Wright, do you hear me? _Nothing!_ You've lost all my trust, weakened your status to the point where you are now _dead_ to me. Get out. _Get out!_ The very sight of you makes me sick."

In his life, Phoenix had endured pain and torture that would have brought most other men to their knees, if not their graves. He'd ingested poisoned glass, been whipped until he was conscious, been struck with a fire extinguisher, and had scalding coffee thrown at his face. All of these incidences had been a cakewalk compared to the sting of that slap; _what had spurned_ the actual gesture, and _what it represented_ , for _that_ was what had wounded him more than the actual force of the strike itself.

_As my heart breaks, so do I, dying a little more with each passing moment, because I've forced you to treat me like an enemy._

Moreover, in doing so, he had lost even more than she had, for he had managed to lose the only thing he had ever really wanted his entire life: this one headstrong, gorgeous firecracker of a girl, who had just slapped him. And was now loathing him.

He knew this be the last time he would ever be able to set sights upon Maya Fey. This was his final farewell. The trees bent and sighed in the wind, bowing deeply to her as she strode away into the cold night, which was as bleak and dreary as his soul. He would curse his luck every day from today onward for having let her go. But there was nothing he could do to atone for the irreverent activity he'd committed. _Nothing_.

And just like that, Maya Fey, Master of Kurain, lifted her head like a dignified queen looking down at a peasant she no longer deemed worthy of her presence. Her robes flew about her as she walked away and the wind caught her hair, tumbling wildly about her. He would have given anything to have been able, one last time, to stretch his hand out and glide his knuckles over her soft cheek. Finally, Maya lifted her head in that regal way of hers, gave it to defiant toss, and without looking back, walked out of his life forever.

Better she remained alive and hating him than die for loving him.

* * *

 _Phoenix Wright  
_ _Wright Talent Agency_  
December 25, 2025, 10:15 AM

The water poured down, dripping by his side, while his mind faded into dullness and everything became a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calmed him; it momentarily took his mind off things. All the trivial things he honestly didn't care about.

_It's the water. My mind swirls, and it's like I'm standing under an everlasting waterfall. Ever so beckoning, but it can never last, I know that now. **Nothing** ever does._

It seemed unfair that no matter how much he strived to be the man his conscience wanted him to be, it would keep taunting him with his failures. Each time the regrets reemerged, he would diligently analyze them again, hoping that this time his mind would be satisfied with his self-professed remorse, but it never was. Like an unforgiving specter, it would be back tomorrow to haunt him all over again.

Phoenix stood there under the trickling water, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he silently tortured himself by thinking of the way he'd said the things he had.

_I want you to know that even though we don't talk anymore I still think about you and the way things ended, and some nights I still cry about it._

"I hurt her!" He groaned agonizingly, banging his head against the cool tiles, wishing he could do so hard enough to obliterate these wretched memories.

Phoenix dragged his thoughts from that awful night and opted for the more preferred and more refined torture of thinking about the joy of her, the jaunty way she's always looked at him. He could still visualize her exactly as she was up until that night, her exquisite face aglow with irreverent merriment. He thought all the times she had melted against him and kissed him with sweet passion. God, what a warm, fiery, loving creature she could be when she wasn't being _stubborn and rebellious_ … and wonderful.

"I had _no choice_!" He covered his face with his hands, his voice a horse, ravaged whisper in the silent room around him.

The regret would come to him in quiet moments, such as when he was going to sleep or stopped to take a lunch break. It would seep to the foreground of his mind and demand to be re-examined again. However, he was tired of thinking about it; no amount of analysis was going to turn back the clock. He had to get on with the here and now, make better choices next time around.

"But I _hurt_ her so much!" He choked brokenly. "I can still hear her crying…"

Phoenix had known that to love deeply meant to risk great pain. He wished at times he was the callous sort of man who could pursue superficial relationships and one-night stands; find the oblivion he'd been seeking in another's temporary arms and completely lose himself. Alas, he was not. He had never looked at another, nor wanted another. This was his cross to bear alone.

He stood there under the mist, silent tears dropping and mingling with the water jets. The tears were not quiet and controlled, they fell as fast as the falling stream and he sobbed to draw breath. His lungs heaved, and he knew there was no cure for his heart. Via his own _hand_ , albeit not his own _will_ , the love of his life was gone and he had to find a way to move forward, just as she had.

Maya was alive but gone for good.

He remained with his head bowed under the jets long after the hot water and runoff and began pulsing him with a cold spray, welcoming the painful sting as the iciness hit his body. This was his pain and he would keep it, it was the intensity of this heartache that proved the strength of his and Maya's bond and he could not bear to feel less.

_They say the pain dulls with time, and that things will get better. But how can things be better when the reason the pain isn't as bad anymore, is because it'd mean that I've forgotten? Over time, the memory of your presence still hasn't escaped my mind. I can still see your face in strangers, and the things we once shared still bring tears to my eyes. If getting past the pain means forgetting you, Maya Fey, then I choose to suffer my entire life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Police – King of Pain


	108. The Rules of Engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered."

**_Pearl Fey and Luke Triton  
_** _Fey Manor  
_ December 31, 2025, 4:00 PM

_Do I dare disturb the universe?_

Pearl eyed herself critically in front of her dresser mirror, loath about the fact that despite the extra care and effort she'd made with her appearance, she still _looked_ as lost and confused as she _felt!_

Trying to distract herself from her tumultuous thoughts, the spirit medium applied a thin layer of pink lip-gloss to her unsmiling mouth. She didn't want to make her mouth overly gooey and have poor Luke get smeared pearlescent goop all over his face when she kissed him Happy New Year at Uncle Gumshoe's, once the clock struck midnight!

Yes, he was Uncle _Gumshoe_ now; at 16, Pearl was now a little bit too old to be calling him Uncle _Scruffy!_

The spirit medium had initially been over the moon about going down to Los Angeles to ring in the New Year. After all, not only would her best friend be in attendance at Aunt Maggey and Uncle Gumshoe's New Year's Eve gathering, but also the ever-wacky Uncle Larry, and of course, her "cousins," Jeff and Gordy, all of whom would be introduced to her beau for the first time.

However, within not even a week, Pearl's happily festive mood had done a complete turnabout, and she knew that the intuitive and perceptive Luke had noticed the change in her disposition. Even worse was that he now feared her change in demeanor was due to the trepidation of having him meet her Uncle and his clan, since bringing your partner to meet the rest of one's family was such a huge relationship milestone.

Such a silly boy! How could he possibly think such a thing? After all, her boyfriend was charismatic, charming and a perfect gentleman – with a beautiful British accent, to boot! She had no doubt whatsoever that her friends would all love him nearly as much as _she_ did!

The issue was that Pearl remained unable to give any proper reassurance that would've squelched the misgivings of the boy she adored – not without divulging the actual reason the teenager felt as tense, confused, and blue as a _Swimsuit Illustrated_ model in the North Pole!

The overwhelmed girl was still at a complete loss about how to possibly explain that it was Maya and Longines' unexpectedly happy news, which they'd sprung when returning from Paris, that was the true catalyst behind her newfound angst and uncertainty?

Pearl had been wrestling with her conscience regarding the enormous bombshell she'd been withholding from her cousin for quite some time. However, with the brand-new bulletin of Maya's impending marriage to the hair heir, the adolescent was now going into a New Year still shrouded with the _previous_ year's secrecy. She was sitting on news, which she had _yet_ to divulge, that seemed even more pertinent than ever, and with each passing day, only further gnawed away at her insides. She was hapless in her longing to understand what the right thing was to do.

And it made her absolutely miserable.

"What should I _do_?" The spirit medium turned away from the mirror, aggravated tears blurring her vision as she stared helplessly at Feyt. The puppy was sitting on her bed next to his carrier, studying her with loving, but knowing eyes, as though sensing something was amiss with his mommy. "I _wish_ I _knew_!"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Luke's sweet cadence could be heard from the other side.

"It's me, Pearl. Might I be allowed to enter?"

"Sure, come in," the teen said glumly, grabbing her overnight bag with one hand and slinging it over her shoulder as she lifted her four-legged son into her arms. The door opened, and she forced a smile for her boyfriend's benefit, admiring how handsome he looked without his customary blue cap, dressed in dark brown cords and the blue cotton sweater Maya had given him as a holiday gift. "You look really nice, Luke."

"As do you. That lavender knit dress your cousin gave you for Christmas makes you look even prettier than usual, and I didn't think that was possible." Luke's tone was rife with admiration as he gallantly took Pearl's bag and slung it over his shoulder to accompany his overnight carry-on. "Maya wanted me to come to fetch you, as Longines and his assistant will be arriving shortly to collect us. Are you ready to go yet?"

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor at the mention of Maya's fiancé, which was impossible to miss. Heaving a great sigh, the British lad put down the luggage and strode into the room. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he gently tilted her chin up with his finger, a look of loving concern on his mien.

"Tell me something, love. Am I _ever_ going to see you smile again?"

She gazed up at him with a distressed expression, and a look of weariness came over his visage.

"I've watched you be like this all week, love, and it's tearing me apart seeing you this way," he lamented. "I _know_ Longines wasn't your ideal choice to be Maya's life partner, but he's still a very nice man. Moreover, he seems to make her happy, and _that_ should be what ultimately matters. I understand that you still miss Mr. Wright, but a New Year is upon us; it may be time for you to finally let that go…"

"Longines is _fine!"_ Pearl shook her head. "I honestly don't mind him anymore, as a person…he's all right. That's not _quite_ what this is about…"

"And you're _sure_ this isn't a case of you being nervous about your extended family's reactions to meeting me tonight?"

"Of course not! They'll _love_ you! I've told you, Luke, it's not _you_ , either!" She rapidly blinked back tears. _"Please_ believe me…"

Noting how distressed she was, Luke wisely backed off, then tried to lighten up the mood

"I could've sworn I heard you talking to somebody a moment ago," he remarked. "Were you using _our son_ as a confidante?"

She nodded silently and cuddled Feyt tightly against her chest.

"I tend to do the same thing myself, with creatures of both the feathery _and_ furry variety," he teased softly. "Although in _my_ case, of course, they tend to talk _back."_

"You're such a goofball!" Pearl giggled, her mood lifting slightly. "For what it's worth, despite it having been a one-sided conversation, and despite being _male,_ Feyt is a _great listener!"_

"Cute," Luke chortled. "Our little guy can represent and atone for the entire male persuasion in _that_ domain!"

Suddenly his dark eyes turned serious.

"However, by now, you should know that _I'm_ no slouch in the listening department either, love. Whatever it is that's bothering you, I wish you'd feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it. It might even make you feel better."

"I have yet to have told _anybody_ this, but you're right, Luke. I _do_ need to get this off my chest."

Pearl's smile faded as she glanced downward again, as though trying to gather courage before she took a deep breath and regarded her boyfriend with glistening eyes.

"That day, back in the spring, when Longines first came here to the village to meet Mystic Maya, I got very upset about the idea of her seeking another suitor so soon after Mr. Nick. Mystic Matilda was nice enough to come after me and try to comfort me, but after she left, I decided I _still_ needed some answers. So, I went to Eagle Mountain and decided to it was high time to visit my half-sister…"

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey and Iris Hawthorne_**  
 _Hazakura Temple_  
April 26, 2025, 7:15 PM

"I didn't _do_ _anything_ ," Iris whispered tearfully. "Feenie… _he_ came to _me,_ Pearl. I _swear_ to you, I'm telling you the truth."

"That's _not_ the _point_!" Pearl was unmoved at the sight of the flooded eyes gazing back at her. "In the end, it's all the same! Give me _one good reason_ why I shouldn't slap you from here to the moon!"

"You can hit me if you want, if it's going to make you feel better, Pearl." Iris bowed her head in submission. "But you should know it's not going to _change anything_."

The angry spirit medium faltered slightly at the painful veracity of the words, slowly rolled down her sleeve again, and let out a browbeaten sigh.

"Why's that?" She asked defeatedly. "Because _you love him_ that much?"

Limpid brown eyes met resigned gray ones. "I never stopped."

"And... _he_ feels the same way about _you_?" Pearl bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

Iris cast a downcast glance before replying. "I-I'd like to think so."

"So, what you're trying to tell me is that… you and Mr. Nick ...you're _Special Someones_ now?" Pearl felt numb then, the fight draining out of her completely.

Iris hesitated but didn't raise her eyes from the ground as she whispered the response.

_"Y-yes."_

Almost immediately, heavy chains, invisible to any human eye except for Pearl's, sprung up and completely covered the shrine maiden then, and _two enormous, glowing, red psyche locks_ now covered Iris' heart, not even _a split second_ after the affirmation left her lips.

_What the heck?! Why on earth did those locks appear the minute Iris stated she was **Special Someones** with **Mr. Nick**?! Why would she be lying about that?! And what **else** is she hiding?!_

Her doe eyes widened then, and she stared at Iris speechlessly. However, the shrine maiden refused to look at her anymore and had already turned away.

"Look, Pearl, someday…when the dust all clears… I hope you can get past this and accept me as your sister. I'm more than happy to accept _you_ as _mine_. However, I have to go now. I –I promised Feenie I'd call him before he heads out to work. Take care."

Pearl was still silently rooted in the same spot as Iris left and walked back into the temple, her mind reeling with what she'd unintentionally just discovered.

 _For whatever reason, Iris is **lying** about Mr. Nick! Even if she **was** telling the truth about still loving him! Surely_ _she had to have known that making me think **she** was the reason he and Mystic Maya broke up would only make me despise her, so obviously, she must love him for real, even if it means alienating herself from us as the penalty?! I have no idea how to break the secrets behind those locks of hers, but I **do** know one thing for 100% fact now: Mr. Nick did **not** leave Mystic Maya because of **Iris!** Maybe… **he** never stopped loving **my cousin,** at all?! If only I knew the **real** reason **why** he did what he did it…_

* * *

 ** _Pearl Fey and Luke Triton_** _  
Fey Manor_  
December 31, 2025, 4:10 PM

"Oh Pearl…" Luke's eyes were filled with compassion and sympathy as his girlfriend finished telling him her plight, which had been weighing so heavily upon her conscience all this time. Without another word, he pulled her into his arms, careful not to squish the tiny puppy sandwiched between them, and rested his chin atop her head. "I'm so sorry that you've been carrying this burden with you for so long."

"I should have _known_ something wasn't right!" Her words were muffled against his chest as tears of chagrined frustration rolled down her cheeks. "Mr. Nick…he loved Mystic Maya _so_ much, Luke! Even before they even got together, he risked _everything_ for her – he would've sent _an innocent person to prison_ if it had meant keeping my cousin safe! He _ran across a burning bridge for her_ , even though it would've meant the end of _his own life!_ I can't _believe_ I allowed _myself_ to think that he would've thrown it all away, just like that! I should have known that he would never have betrayed his _true_ _love_ in such a while she was away on business in such a dismissive manner and so blithely given his heart away to another…"

"Pearl, I _know_ how much Mr. Wright loved Maya. I witnessed evidence of that love with my own eyes when they came to England," Luke reminded her, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. "Remember when I told you how your ever-impulsive, _act-first, think-later_ kinswoman risked her life to save Espella's in Labyrinthia? He tried to fight off _half a dozen knights_ trying to save her! Even in my own despair at the time, believing the Professor was dead – I had still _never_ seen a man so grief-struck or so devastated as he was when he thought Maya was gone for good. I was only a child, going through my personal mourning, but even _I_ could see how much he loved her, even back then."

" _Now_ you see why I can't keep my silence any longer, don't you Luke?" Pearl puled wretchedly. "The _only_ reason Mystic Maya has tried to move on with Longines is that she believes that Mr. Nick _left her for Iris_ but now I _know_ that's a lie! How can I possibly let her marry another man, one I know she doesn't love – at least, not in the same way that she loved _Mr. Nick –_ knowing what I do? Don't you agree that I should tell her what I know?"

"No, Pearl." Luke eyed her steadily. "I don't support that idea, _at all_."

"Y-you _don't_?" She wailed plaintively, her eyes widening with disbelief. "I –I don't understand! You just agreed with me that you, firsthand, could attest to how much Mr. Nick loved Mystic Maya! How can you possibly think that it's alright for her to go through with this wedding, knowing that he lied to her about Iris?"

"Pearl, _history_ cannot be refuted. There is no doubt in my mind that there was indeed a time when Mr. Wright loved your cousin very much, even enough to risk his life for her." Luke shook his head sadly. "However, this still doesn't change _anything_. The fact remains that even if he _did_ lie to her about the reason for leaving, and it _wasn't_ for Iris, the bottom line is _: he still left her."_

"But it wasn't for Iris though!"

"Be that as it may, I want you to _seriously_ contemplate the situation." Luke's gaze remained kind and understanding, but there was a determined set to his jaw now. "You are proposing the risk of potentially getting Maya's hopes up – all for _nothing_! As of right now, the full story remains unknown, so this information remains _incomplete,_ do you understand that? Regardless of whether Mr. Wright left your cousin for another woman or not, the point is, you still don't know _why_ he did."

"But Luke…"

"There's one more very important factor you aren't considering," he continued sternly. "The other glaring fact which also remains is both Maya and Longines are household names. They're both nationally and internationally famed celebrities. Ergo, I have little doubt that by this point, Mr. Wright has gotten wind of their betrothal – yet still has opted to do _nothing_ about it!"

"Perhaps there's a chance he doesn't _know_ yet!" She protested desperately. "Or maybe Mr. Nick doesn't want to confess he still loves Mystic Maya, because _he_ thinks _she's_ finally moved on!"

"Pearl, I hate to break this to you, but both Longines and Maya are _world-renowned_ media darlings! The Professor is across the ocean, _in England,_ and even _he_ knew of the engagement before Maya rang him with the news!"

Luke placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her squarely in the eye.

"It is nigh _impossible_ that Mr. Wright doesn't know! I need you to truly comprehend what this ultimately means: it doesn't matter if he _is_ or _isn't_ with Iris and it makes no difference if he is single! What's _relevant_ is that he hasn't done a single bloody thing to halt this engagement! He has not even tried to _contact_ Maya, nor come rushing over here, begging her to break it off, which, if he still loved her so much, is exactly what he would do! It's what _any_ man would do - he would _fight_ for the woman he loved! I _know_ this… because it's what _I_ would do if _I_ were _him_ , and Maya was _you!"_

Upon hearing this, the girl silently took one of his hands and cradled it against her cheek, the look of love in her eyes requiring no words to be spoken aloud whatsoever. Encouraged, Luke continued.

"Pearl, believe you me; I am not trying to be cruel. I care about Maya very much which is why I don't think you should gamble with her happiness for something that sounds like such a long shot. What if you were to go ahead, tell her what you know, and your impetuous cousin calls off her wedding – and it's _all_ _for naught?_ What would happen if it turns out that for whatever _unknown_ reason, Mr. Wright tells her he _still_ doesn't want to be with her, and Maya's heart gets broken all over again? Do you truly want to have that cross to bear?"

"No," she whispered, knowing deep in her heart that her boyfriend was right. "It's true, isn't it? Maybe in the end… Mr. Nick just didn't love her enough."

"We can't spend our lives playing the _maybe_ or _what-if_ game, Pearl. I know how much _you_ love Maya, which is why you have stayed silent for this long; because you knew what a landmine this information could be. Sometimes in life, you must love someone enough to just stay silent, step back and have the chips fall where they may, and let whatever happens, _happen_."

"OK." Pearl nodded bravely, then leaned forward and kissed him softly. "If I ever did anything that ended up hurting Mystic Maya, I would never forgive myself. Thank you for preventing me from making a big mistake, Luke."

"I want to thank _you_ for finally unloading this burden off your shoulders, even somewhat, and trusting me enough to confide in me." He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "It was killing me, knowing that this whole week, behind that bright smile of yours, you've kept secrets from me."

"I can't _believe_ how well you know me, _already_." Pearl shook her head ruefully. "I know _Mystic Maya_ doesn't even have a clue about how woeful I've been, and _she's_ known me my _entire life_! Am I honestly such a transparently bad actress?"

"Not at all!" There was a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have little doubt that Maya has been too wrapped up in her engagement whirlwind of excitement to have been focusing on much else, including her daughter's latent dejection this whole time. Had she _not_ been, though, I'm certain she would've been tipped off, despite your _Oscar-worthy performance_ , the same way _I_ became privy to your turmoil."

Smiling at the confused look on her face, Luke reached into his pocket and held up his magatama.

"What _I_ can't _believe_ is that I've been able to maintain _any_ sort of worthwhile conversation with you all week!" He smirked. "Cor blimey, the rattling of the chains and psyche locks around your heart was _so loud_ , they were driving me to near distraction!"

"Luke Triton! Can we agree, from this day forward, _not_ to use our powers on one another?" Scowling slightly, Pearl grabbed the sides of his head and brought his face down to her level so he could see clearly make out the mock indignation in her amethyst eyes. "After all, even the _closest of couples_ should be allowed to a _little_ privacy now and then, right?!"

"As you wish, Princess Pearl!" He leaned over to kiss her nose. "You have my word as a gentleman never to pry, even unwittingly, into the mysteries inside that heart of yours again!"

"There's not a lot of room left in there for much else," she confessed, blushing slightly. "It's mostly occupied with thoughts of _you_."

_She's always saying these things! And it melts my heart, each and every time._

"Such a sweet-talker!" Luke laughed. "I've never met anyone like you in my whole life, Pearl Fey! I don't know what to do with you!"

"Kiss me," she said simply, giggling slightly.

And Luke did. He lifted her chin and kissed her mouth and swallowed her giggles whole. He felt her sunshine fill his lungs and her heartbeat quicken against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Since you used your magatama on me, mister man, you _have_ to make it up to me!" Pearl told him playfully. "That means you have to now _willingly_ tell me a secret."

"I have already bared my entire heart and soul to you practically from day one! I am naught but an open book when it comes to you, I'm afraid." Luke shook his head in mock despair. "As trite and boring as it may be, I've already told you everything there is to know."

"Tell me a _secret_ ," she repeated, in pure, unrelenting, stubborn Fey fashion.

"Okay," Luke sighed resignedly. "I love you."

"I love you, too. But I wanted you to tell me _a secret!"_

"I've always loved you."

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse_** _  
Kurain Village_  
December 31, 2025, 4:15 PM

At this point in her life, Maya prided herself on the fact that she'd handled more curveballs than any professional baseball player had, and with a somewhat exceptional level of panache! Ergo, the diviner genuinely and sincerely thought after all she'd endured, in the past 7 years alone, there was absolutely nothing left that could dumbfound her.

Take that evening's proposed game plan, for example.

Her fiancé's suggestion for their New Year's Eve plans hadn't sounded like anything out of the norm. Since Longines had amiably spent Christmas in Kurain, with her, Pearl and Luke, eating a _tofu turkey_ , it had only been fair to let him make their plans for the last night of the year. When he'd suggested spending the night's festivities at the grand opening of his long since mentioned but never before met assistant's new French restaurant, Maya hadn't thought twice about it.

Her fiancé had graciously volunteered to come along with his aforementioned subordinate to Kurain in his limousine, pick her up, then bring her down to the city. He'd even offered to deliver Pearl and Luke to the Gumshoes' party as well, as it was on the way. (The Kurain Master had already expressed her apologies to her old friends about not being able to attend the little gathering at their home, but had said she would drop by the next day to pick up her little girl and her other half on the way back to Kurain).

So here she was, standing solo at the entrance gates of the village, wondering if Pearl and Luke were going to be ready in time. Maya was the epitome of picture-perfect elegance as she stood there in wait, dressed in violet, Pierre Cardin, chiffon slip dress that fell just past her knees with her long obsidian hair (which had since re-grown back to her waist) completely down and hanging in exquisitely styled, loosely curled waves tumbling down her back.

The spirit medium smiled in relief as she saw her cousin and her boyfriend coming in the distance, with little Feyt in Luke's arms, just as the limousine pull-up. The driver exited the black, shiny vehicle and opened the door side door.

Longines smilingly stepped out with his normal, easygoing grace. He was as flawlessly coiffed and groomed as ever, with his halo of golden curls, no longer in need of extensions, tumbling just past his shoulders and looking like Tinsel Town perfection in his black Hermes suit.

"What's cookin', good-lookin'?" He winked, greeting Maya with a roguish wolf whistle. "I do believe you may set off the smoke alarms upon entry to the restaurant because you'll be the hottest thing on the menu!"

"I wouldn't sell myself so short if I were _you_ , silly!" A high pitched … and strangely _recognizable_ man's girlish twitter came from behind the blond man. "Longines, you're hardly a slouch in the looks department _yourself,_ you know!"

At the sound of the other male voice, Maya's eyes and mouth froze wide open, in an expression of stunned awe, and although she was staring straight at her smiling fiancé, she appeared not to notice him at all.

As though in a daze, her rounded orbs remained firmly transfixed on the _eerily familiar_ form emerging from behind the billionaire, who was gazing right back at her, while shaking his torso in a _most disturbing fashion!_

" _You!"_ She gasped.

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse_**  
 _Paris, France_  
December 24, 2025 11:30 PM

"I don't know what has more of a sparkle," Longines told Maya as he poured champagne into her flute from the bar located in the back seat of the limousine. "That blingy engagement ring, or those beautiful, twinkling eyes of yours."

"I'm sure it's a close call!" She grinned, holding up her left hand to admire the twinkle of the knuckle-crushing pink diamond on her finger. "But since it's such a gorgeous thing to be compared to that I'm going to say… _Yes_?"

"You already _did!"_ He laughingly filled his own glass as well. "And I made sure _all of Paris_ knew it, as well!"

"I hope by now Jacques has forgiven you for his back…" Maya winced. "I think he may be _one_ person who may not share in the joyousness of the occasion!"

Longines decided to ignore the statement and instead clinked her glass against his own.

"A toast to the future _Madame Beaugosse!"_ He declared, beaming at her. "May she never lose that indelible sparkle!"

"I'll drink to that!"

The two paused to sip pleasurably at the ice-cold bubbly.

"Would now be a good time to go over the rules of engagement?" Longines asked at last.

Maya had known that this wasn't your typical everyday betrothal and that there would be stipulations included but figured at this point, she was prepared for just about anything.

"Go ahead," she smiled encouragingly. _"I'm all ears_."

"Don't sell yourself short!" He quipped, chuckling.

"Ha-ha, funnyman. State your terms."

"OK, from this day on, I vow to give you _everything and anything_ your heart desires: clothing, shoes, jewels, plane or show tickets... _Whatever_ you or your little girl will ever want, without question, it's yours," he began. "In return, I ask for nothing too unreasonably crazy, save for your steadfast friendship, delightful companionship, and your ethereal self on my arm at any related corporate or charity event… As well as your _complete discretion_ in doing _whatever it is you please,_ if, at the end of the day, it is _me_ you come home to."

Maya knew full well what was being implied, and that the _open marriage stipulation_ went both ways, even though Longines was too much of a gentleman to say as much out loud. They each would have the freedom to screw _whomever_ they wanted, _whenever_ they want, just as long as they came home and had dinner with one another by the end of the night. While she appreciated that he was allowing her such inconsequential liberties, one of the reasons she had initially decided to ally with the hair heir, which had since become a treasured friendship, was because she genuinely _never_ wanted _another man's hands_ _on her body,_ for _as long as she lived_! Consequently, _she_ would remain a scrupulous wife, and she didn't care if, on the flip side, that still meant Longines wouldn't necessarily be a traditionally faithful husband.

 _Therefore, we'll essentially be The Nun and The Man Whore - not that anybody would know what goes on behind our closed doors! It's kind of funny … Nick's one **former ex** , turned **current love** , left the nunnery so she could be with him! _Maya smiled grimly _. Whereas his **other ex,** who was once told by an unworthy suitor that she **looked like an escaped nun on the run,** is **getting married** …but is essentially picking up Sister Iris's celibate **old habit!** As Alanis Morissette sang: **Isn't it ironic, don't you think**?_

"Fair enough," she murmured, without even batting an eyelash. "Anything else?"

" _Mes maisons sont vos maisons_ , and I want you to feel free to decorate them or do with them as you wish, so that you're comfortable and feel like it's your place as well, whenever you and Pearl are visiting or vacationing in them, regardless of whether or not I'm there with you or am away tending to company matters. Keep in mind that my assistant always accompanied me on most of my business travels, but in the New Year, he will be busy running his restaurant. I'm hoping, so long as it doesn't conflict with _your_ business matters, that you would still be able and willing to be my regular traveling companion."

"No objections thus far. Please continue."

"Not a whole lot will change from what we have right now, to be honest; you don't even really need to alter your living conditions. I travel a lot for work, as I know you do as well, but whenever we're both in town, it would be nice to dine together on those evenings. All I ask is that you just let me know if you're not going to be home, and I'll give you the same courtesy." He paused to refill both their glasses. "We can decide whether or not you wish to do a 50-50 split, living partially at Fey Manor and partially in my Hollywood mansion. Of course, it is also _your_ call to pick which of your non-occupied bedrooms will be set up as my own separate chambers at Fey Manor for whenever I'm around, no different from when Luke occupies one of the guest rooms when _he_ visits."

"So far so good," Maya replied blithely. "Nothing to stress about at this point, which cannot be figured out later, anyway."

"Is there anything _you_ would like to add?" Longines asked courteously. "I feel like I'm doing _all_ the talking here!"

"I'm pretty laid back, as you've undoubtedly noticed." She shrugged, then tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm…I always dreamed of being a June bride who married in my mother's wedding dress, and I'd love for Sasha, the woman who trimmed my hair right before I met you, to be my hairstylist for the wedding. That would be about it, as far as _my_ demands went, in this department."

"I'm relieved to know I'm not marrying a _Bridezilla_!" He grinned. "I'm sure all those requests could be easily accommodated."

She nodded in agreement.

"In public, of course, you will be my wife, and I will be your husband; in private, my guest, and vice versa."

_Here's the part where things would possibly get awkward…_

Maya took a big gulp of champagne before spitting out the $64,000 question that they both seemed to be dancing around, AKA the _real_ reason he'd proposed/agreed to this marriage in the first place!

"Actually, there it's just _one_ thing I want to clarify…" she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye. "But while this marriage of companionship and mutual benefit is wholly suitable, and I assure you, _most preferable_... I'm just wondering how the whole _private guest and separate chambers_ situation is going to be, ah… _addressed_ when you feel the time has come to produce that _legitimate heir_ you feel so inclined to have someday?"

"My _darling fiancée!"_ Longines' eyes were dancing with barely suppressed laughter as he regarded her pink-tinged cheeks. "Is that a delicate way of asking me if I will be able to perform my _husbandly duties_ when the moment arises?"

"Um… Well, you _did_ tell me there were rumors about you being a _confirmed bachelor_ since you were 30 and still unmarried when we first met." For some inexplicable reason, Maya was beyond mortified by his candor and found herself become flustered as she stumbled for the right words. "I figured any _extracurricular activities_ you decided to _inconspicuously partake_ in with _other parties_ would be…er, _not necessarily_ of the _female persuasion_ … So, I was sort of wondering exactly _how_ that would work, ah, with _you and me_ …?"

"Are you essentially asking me if _I'm too gay_ to _get it up for you_ , when the time comes, or if I need to be picturing _Johnny Depp_?" Longines threw back his head and gave out a loud shout of laughter. "Is _that_ what you think of me, my dear? That I should be _afraid of fire extinguishers_ because _I'm so flaming_?"

"I never said _that_!" Maya gasped, then dissolved into giggles when she saw he was teasing. "But hey – _your_ words _, not mine_!"

"Girl, have you _looked in the mirror_ _lately_?" Longines wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes before fixing them on her with a fond, admiring expression. "You're freaking _hot as hell_! Moreover, _even_ if I _were_ a _player for the other team_ , trust me, _nobody's_ _that_ gay!"

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse_** _  
Kurain Village_  
December 31, 2025, 4:16 PM

_Close your mouth, Maya Fey!_ The Kurain Master's brain commanded sharply. _You **knew** what you were getting into when you agreed to this engagement, even before the rules of it were outlined to you, in **no** uncertain detail!_

Up until that point, Maya had thought that Longines Beaugosse, founder, and _hair heir extraordinaire_ of _You Blo Me,_ was _the most outrageously flamboyant and outré_ man she would be encountering from this point onward.

Of course, she had _also_ thought by the time she'd be pushing 30, she would be _beyond being shocked_ to the point where her mouth soundlessly gaped open and closed, like a fish out of water!

_As usual, it turns out I was wrong! You think I'd be used to this by now…_

Longines' assistant was no stranger to Maya whatsoever. Although she hadn't set eyes on him in nearly 7 years, he hadn't changed _a bit_!

The garish, orangey-yellow tightly coiffed spiraled mane, with matching curls as his beard, was still very much evident on the husky, muscular, and _über_ effeminate man standing before her. However, a hot pink Santa Hat and matching sleeveless Mr. Claus outfit now replaced the customary bright pink chef hat and uniform!

_OK, I didn't think the sight of him could be more disturbia … way to go on a triple perfect score of being wrong, Maya! Three strikes… I'm out!_

Nevertheless, even all this time later, she had _no problem_ immediately recognizing _Jean Armstrong_ , her ex-boss and former owner of the now-defunct _Trés Bien,_ otherwise known as _the most god-awful French restaurant known to man!_

"I was just about to introduce you to my longtime faithful assistant, Jean Armstrong, Maya…" Longines looked at her flummoxed expression strangely. "But it appears that you two _already_ know each other...?"

Armstrong had been staring Maya with a look of polite surprise, but appeared _nowhere near_ as shocked at the sight of _her,_ whatsoever!

"Maya Fey _! Mon Cherie mademoiselle_!" He lunged at the petite woman with his brawny arms, planting two wet, sloppy kisses on both her cheeks. "I see the years have been kind to you! It has been so long!"

_Ugh, not long enough…_

Maya cringed inwardly at the dampness left behind on her face. Somehow, she managed to muster a strained smile, trying to obliterate the memories of the time the Frenchman had unsuspectingly, and against her will, roped her into working for him as a waitress!

* * *

**_Flashback  
_ ** **_January 2019_ **

"Bien!" Armstrong grabbed the unsuspecting spirit medium by the arm as he yanked her into the restaurant. "Come wiz me. I will teach you everyz'ing I know!"

"N-Nick!" Maya yelped, eyes round with horror, right before she disappeared. "HEEEEEELP!"

 _I don't know whether to laugh or feel bad for Maya..._ Phoenix thought, his shoulders shaking with silent, helpless laughter. _Maybe I should do both…?_

**_End flashback_ **

* * *

**_Back to the present day…_ **

_Ugh, that was the longest **day** of forced labor of my _life! Maya barely suppressed a shudder. _Not to mention that he forced me to wear that gaudy orange French maid uniform, that was so goddamn short, had I bent over in it, you would've been able to **see my religion!**_

"It's great that you're already so …er, _well acquainted_ with my fiancée, Jean!" Longines smiled, although looking slightly taken aback at his friend's effusive greeting of the spirit medium. "I told you she was a beauty, didn't I?"

" _Oh là là_! Indeed, you did!" Armstrong clasped his hands to his chest and regarded Maya delightedly. " _Oui, oui! C'est vrai! Elle est très belle_! How blessed that the good Lord decided to bestow you _with a bosom_ at long last! Better late than never, right?"

Maya blinked, trying to register exactly what she'd just heard.

_Did he just say what I **think** he did?!_

"And how eez dat 'andsome lawyer friend of yours?" Armstrong prattled on before the astonished woman could come up with a suitable response to such an _unseemly_ observation! "I cannot wait to play catch-up with you! I am most excited about tonight's grand opening! I am sure you will love zi food!"

 _I'm sure I **won't**! _Maya thought petulantly, still trying to _digest_ this most _unpalatable_ _blast from her past_! What were the odds of this _freak show_ (who, back in the day, had had zero qualms about making _goo-goo e_ yes at Phoenix!), would now be… _bosom buddies_ with her fiancé?!

Also, was she losing her mind, or was Armstrong _batting his eyelashes_ in Longines' direction?!

"It's nice to see you again." Maya dragged together the rags of her composure. "I must fully concur with your earlier observations of my fiancé. Of the two of us, Longines may _very well_ be the prettier one!"

"I am biased, of course, when it comes to my _cher ami_ , but I have to agree with you!" Armstrong let out a high-pitched titter, as he turned his _unmistakably drooling face_ towards the handsome blond man. "After all, his name isn't _Beaugosse_ _pour rien_!"

"Stop it, Jean!" Longines blushed modestly and waved his hand at his friend. "You're embarrassing me!"

"I only speak zee truth!" Armstrong insisted, putting a hand on Longines' shoulder and leaving it lingering there a few moments longer than necessary as he looked at him with puppy-dog eyes. "Your last name means _handsome boy_ for good reason indeed! Maya, you are _such_ a fortunate femme! Do you have _any_ idea how many people would _kill_ to be in your shoes?"

The wistfulness the last sentence did not escape Maya's ears, although Longines seemed completely oblivious to the barely concealed meaningfulness in the screaming queen's tone, as he was suddenly preoccupied with an email that had just come in on his cell phone.

 _Good grief!_ The spirit medium thought in disbelief. _This **pouf has** a **flambé** for my fiancé! How is it possible that Longines seems oblivious to this?!_

Maya halted her train of thought in its tracks and mentally smacked herself in the head for such a ridiculous thought. After all, hadn't both _she and Phoenix_ been completely clueless to one another's feelings for _years_ before _they_ had finally confessed? Even though the evidence of their affection for one another had been _glaringly obvious_ to the rest of the entire world?!

_Alrighty then! It seems I'm experiencing a homosexual version of my personal déjà vu …or would it be **gay-ja vu** in this case?!_

Completely overlooking that Maya had never replied to his last question, Armstrong blissfully continued jabbering on about his new restaurant.

"Zeez restaurant is called _Douce-Amère,_ " the pink-clad pouf babbled excitedly. "It eez quite different from the last one…"

 _Thank freakin' God_! Maya thought with relief. _Does this mean that **he** isn't the one doing the cooking this time?!_

"Zi restaurant is my life," Armstrong continued. "My cuisine is not for all. Some people, z'ey do not appreciate la haute cuisine. J'adore life! J'adore food! J'adore cooking! J'adore work!"

_Ugh, that's what he said about the **last** place!_

" _Douce-Amère,_ it's French for _bittersweet_." The burly man cast an unmistakably forlorn look at Longines, who was still busily sending a reply on his cell phone. "I was inspired by _certain factors_ …in fact, _mon cher_ Longines was _une grande raison_ of what was going through my mind during the name selection, you see…"

**_Stevie Wonder_ ** _could see, you subtle as a Mack truck, overly besotted … cream puff!_

Maya was torn between laughter and pity at the Frenchman's completely blatant ardor for the man she was betrothed to, as she was certainly no stranger to pining for someone that didn't appear to share her affections!

At the same time, Armstrong's cell phone suddenly started to ring, and he excused himself to go answer it as he stepped away a few yards, just as Pearl and Luke finally approached the trio.

" _Longines_!" She hissed at her fiancé, beckoning him over to her. "Might I speak to you for a moment please?!"

"Sure, Maya." The billionaire put away his phone and smiled in greeting at the teenagers before walking over to her. The necromancer waved hello to her the teen couple before not-so-discreetly pulling her fiancé's arm, so that they moved a few feet away, hopefully somewhat out of earshot from the others.

" _This_ man…" The psychic's face and tone were incredulous as she stared at the blond man. " _He's_ been your assistant all this time?!"

"Yes, for the past two years or so, why?" A perplexed frown marred Longines' smooth brow. "Is there a problem, sweetie?"

"Well for one thing, are you _sure_ nothing's ever gone _missing_?" She demanded, as she nervously clutched her evening bag closer to her. "The man was a kleptomaniac with a _massive_ debt problem!"

"Oh, I knew all about _that_!" Longines replied airily, not sounding in the least concerned. "He did some extensive pharmacological, cognitive, and dialectical behavioral therapy after he spent some time behind bars, and he has paid his debt to society as well as _re-paid_ his debt to that awful _loan shark_ who had him by the _short and curlies!_ Part of his release was based on several hundred hours of community service, so he was helping out at one of my charity foundations, and he did such a great job with the fundraising that I decided to hire him on directly as soon as his hours were done. He's been such a dear friend ever since!"

"A _friend_ , you say?" She raised an eyebrow at that one. "Are you sure that's _all_ he's ever been?"

"Of _course,_ that's all he's been!" He gawked at her blankly. "Just _what_ you trying to _imply_ here?"

Maya didn't reply, just continued to stare at him, and a slight blush crept along the billionaire's tanned cheeks.

"Oh my _God_ , Maya Fey! What a _dirty, suspicious_ little mind you have!" Longines legitimately seemed somewhat offended. "Naturally, I have _never_ had any sort of _dalliance_ with somebody that is a _paid staff member of mine_! I didn't get to be a _tycoon_ by _foolishly dipping my pen_ into the _company ink_!"

" _Really_? Not even if it's _really_ obvious that he _wants_ you to dip your pen into _any_ _willing_ and _available_ part of him?" Maya flushed as she realized how crass that sounded. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound crude, but surely you've noticed he _shamelessly_ hits on you?!"

"You're so _silly_!" Longines laughed gaily, waving away her observation with his hand. "Jean is just flirtatious - he hits on _everyone_! He can't help it – he's _French_ , like me! We're a flirty lot! It's _what_ we _do_!"

As if on cue, Armstrong ended his phone call, and turned to look at Luke and Pearl, his gaze affixed on the British gentleman-in-training with unabashed interest.

"Oh, what a _precious_ little puppy!" He burbled cheerfully, clasping his hands together in delight as he looked at the two wide-eyed teens. "So, _you_ must be Maya's little cousin Pearl! And _you_ , tasty little morsel… Must be _the better half!_ It's _such_ a pleasure to meet you! It's _Lucas_ , right?"

"Er, yes, but I prefer to be called Luke," the gobsmacked Englishman replied politely, hesitantly offering his hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you, too, Mister…?"

"No need to be so _formal_!" Leaning forward, Armstrong planted a loud juicy smack on each of the utterly unprepared Luke Triton's cheeks. "No _Mister_ , you can just call me _Jean_! I've always had a soft spot for z'e younger boys, you know! _Especially_ ones with such _delicious_ accents!"

Luke looked like he'd slightly thrown up in his own mouth.

Armstrong leered at Luke for another lingering moment, before turning to Pearl.

"Make sure you keep a tight rein on _that fine behind_ , girlfriend! What a _lucky_ little thing you are!"

"Erm, _I'm_ the lucky one, really," Luke insisted gallantly, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, and essentially putting her between him and Armstrong as a makeshift human shield. "As you can see, good looks run rampant in the Fey family, heh, heh."

"Oh, I suppose your _petite copine_ is a _pretty_ sort," Armstrong sniffed, knowing a rebuke when he heard one, but flashing a jaunty wink at Luke nonetheless. "If you _like_ that _rosebud lipped, doe-eyed_ sort of thing…"

"I _really_ do!" Luke's tone was now as strained as his smile. "I've always been a lover of pretty _girls!_  
My _whole, entire life_ , honestly!"

"I'm sure _they_ love _you_ too, English Muffin!" Armstrong trilled. "I mean, just _look_ at you! You're _gorgeous_!"

"Maybe we should get going," Maya cut in anxiously before the over-the-top _wannabe_ _Frenchman_ possibly scarred her daughter's boyfriend _for life_! "Kids, do you have everything you need for overnight?"

Pearl and Luke nodded mutely, completely at a loss for words.

 _This is what my life has become_?! Pearl silently screamed. _I made **one** horrible comment a few months ago about how if Mystic Maya were to marry Longines, I would be getting a **second mommy** , and now **this** guy comes along, as the **third** creepy **maternal** figure?! What did I ever do to wind up with **this** 2-for-1 package from hell?!_

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Longines Beaugosse_**  
 _Douce-Amère Restaurant_  
January 1, 2026, 12:15 AM

She hadn't been able to stand to be in there another moment.

Desperately needing some fresh air, Maya stepped outside on the restaurant patio, waving away the pungent smell of cigarette smoke as she joined the throng of smokers who were puffing away on their cancer sticks, making a bluish-grey opaque cloud form around their heads, _completely negating_ her need to come out there.

 _Fine, so it's not fresh. Well, at least it's semi-fresh. Well, kind of…outdoorsy…_ Maya coughed as a stream of smoke blew her way. _OK fine, at least it's **air**!_

At least it was better than _in there at the party,_ where, on a night out _with her own fiancé_ , _she_ had been made to feel like _the odd man out,_ by his disgustingly _inappropriate_ , _clinging vine_ of an _enamored assistant_!

_Who, incidentally, hasn't upped his game in the kitchen whatsoever in the past near-decade! He should have stuck with his mondo grosso aromatherapy oils!_

Longines had apologized to her profusely for the stomach-lurching, so-called gourmet fare, which made the previous food that Armstrong had served at _Trés Bien_ seem _deliciously edible in comparison_! He'd even promised to take her out for a burger before the night was over, as atonement!

Historically, it seemed the combination of _Maya Fey + Longines Beaugosse + French Cuisine_ = **_doomed, abysmal, epic fail_** , _regardless_ of the continent they were on!

Thus far, however, Longines had been unable to make good on his promise, because Armstrong had insisted on keeping Maya's fiancé _glued to his side_ while he had mingled amongst the other party guests, possessively clutching his arm in a death grip while he steered him about, as though the hair tycoon were _his_ date!

Longines, of course, had been too gracious to say anything much without causing a scene and had _repeatedly_ , and _apologetically_ , looked over at her and mouthed, " _we're leaving soon_!"

The last time had been about _an hour and a half ago_! As a result, Maya was left to fend for herself all night, in a roomful of people she didn't even know, (and desperately wishing she'd gone ahead to the Gumshoes instead!) while feeling like she was an unwanted third wheel.

Despite her misery, the spirit medium honestly found she couldn't even be entirely angry with Armstrong for acting the way he was. Unrequited love _sucked_ , she knew this firsthand, and she also understood that the man was simply acting out because he suddenly had to share Longines' affections and attention with _somebody_ _else_ _now_ , after having had him to himself, for so long.

How could Maya possibly judge him, without seeming like a _complete hypocrite_ , when nearly 7 years ago, _she_ had been guilty of such equally abhorrent behavior herself?

_I wanted things that I thought would never be mine and I had not yet learned how to deal with that. Armstrong is merely a fatter, hairier, **bitchier** version of me, circa 2019._

On her 21st birthday at The Borscht Bowl, Maya was beyond mortified to admit that she had acted like an absolute green-eyed monster towards the unassuming Tiffany, the sexpot waitress who'd worked there. The sexy blonde had had her eye on Phoenix, and had innocently assumed that he was unattached at the time, which _technically_ , up until that night, he very well _had_ been! However, that _still_ hadn't stopped Maya from acting like a _catty, jealous, shrew_ towards the other woman for the entire night, until things between her and Phoenix had finally come to a glaring head.

" _There_ you are!" Longines exclaimed, bursting out the side door and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I've been looking all over for you! You took off right after the clock struck midnight, and I couldn't even kiss my fiancée Happy New Year!" Leaning over, he planted a light kiss on her cheek.

"I noted that your _lips were occupied_ when the New Year was being rung in, my dear." Maya smiled faintly, planting a chaste peck on his cheek in return. "I didn't want to get in the way."

"Ugh, you _saw_ that?!" Longines groaned with embarrassment and dragged a hand down his face. "I _swear_ to you, Maya I don't know _what_ got into Jean tonight - I mean aside from over a half-dozen SUCK, BANG & BLOW cocktails! He's _never_ acted in such a manner before - but the minute midnight hit, he just grabbed my face and _planted one right on me_ before I could do anything about it!"

"I _did_ see it," Maya admitted, her lips twisting into a wry smile. "But I can't say I even fault him too much. I tried to hint at it earlier, up in Kurain, when I said he was hitting on you and you dismissed his actions as mere Frenchman flirtatiousness. There's more to it than that. He's acting out because he's desperate and terrified about losing you."

" _Losing_ me?!" Longines gaped at her comically. "Maya _what the hell_ you talking about?!"

"Longines." Maya looked at him earnestly. "I thought you were such a bright man, yet you continue to astound me by still insisting that you are _truly this_ _blind_? Even _now_ , you're going to claim to be _wholly unawar_ e of the fact that Jean Armstrong is _madly_ , _hopelessly_ , _perilously_ in love with you?"

"Are you gonna be all silly about this, _again_?" Longines demanded, shaking his head. "Jean's just a little bit too much to drink, probably stemmed from his nerves about the opening night of his restaurant, that's all. You're reading _way_ too much into this!"

"A French restaurant with a name that translates as _bittersweet!_ He essentially declared he called it that with _you_ in mind. No, I'm not being silly, dear friend." Her voice was soft. "He's _in love with you_. Trust me on this one. I can tell by the way he looks at you."

"Oh?" Longines raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And _how_ exactly does he do _that_?"

Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she drew upon a distant memory from another lifetime ago, pausing for a moment to swallow back the searing pain that accompanied it before she found the ability to answer.

"The way the moon looks at the sun," she explained, her voice quivering. "Like for the first time in his life, he feels warm."

Longines stared at her, wide-eyed and completely speechless as the weight of her words sunk in.

"I _know_ that look," Maya whispered, as tears filled her eyes. "I know it because _that's_ how _Nick_ used to look at me."

"I'm so sorry, Maya." His blue eyes were awash with sympathy as he pulled her into a tight hug. "I've been a terrible fiancé for keeping you here this long, alone with your pained thoughts, when I should have been at your side and feeding you that burger I promised you! Nevertheless, I _am_ a man of my word – let's get out of here. I'll take you to this great burgers-only diner, and then we're gonna check out this terrific after-hours club that has dancing till dawn…"

"You go on ahead." She shook her head. "I swear, I'm not angry at either of you for the way your assistant behaved tonight, but I'm kind of in party pooper mode tonight and I don't want to drag everyone down with me. I - I just want to go home."

" _Home_?" He looked astonished. "Maya, I don't want to go out without you…"

"I _insist_ that you do, though. It's _fine!"_ She smiled tiredly. "I'm a big girl. I'll be alright on my own."

"But you said you were going to go see your friend Gumshoe tomorrow while picking up Luke and Pearl on the way back to Kurain? You wanting to go home tonight makes no sense! At least let me book you a hotel room down here in the city, and then you can just head over to your friend's place and pick up your daughter and go home tomorrow, instead of making a double trip for nothing."

"Longines, please, let me be." Maya put a placating hand on his arm. "Maybe I've had too much to drink tonight, or I'm just tired, but regardless, whatever it is, I know it's going to make me be really bad company tonight. I refuse to do that to you. The only thing that'll snap me out of this funk is just going home, being alone, and sleeping in _my own bed_. I'll call a cab. It's no big deal."

Seeing that she was in no mood to be argued was, the blond man sighed in resignation, then leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

"Fine, but there's no way I am letting you take a taxi back to Kurain. I'm going to jump into a cab with some friends and had to that all-night club, and then probably crash either at a hotel down here in LA, or head back to my mansion. In the meantime, though, Beauregard, my limo driver is on call, and just around the corner. I called him right before I came out to see you. At least let me ensure you get home safely if nothing else."

"Thank you," Maya replied quietly, leaning over, and kissing him on the cheek. "You're such a sweetheart. Your assistant is right, you know. I _am_ a lucky girl. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

Fifteen minutes later, the spirit medium was sitting comfortably in the luxury limousine, headed homeward bound. She leaned her head back against the plush seat and closed her eyes.

Maya wasn't quite sure if it had been Armstrong's arduous actions that she'd witnessed that night that had triggered her overly emotional state, or if she could blame it all on the fact that it was still the holiday season, which was making her feel so nostalgic for her ex and the loved they'd once shared.

Regardless of what it was, and the fact that she was now engaged to a man who dulled a lot of her pain, and allowed her to feel some sort of happiness again, _something_ tonight had triggered a sleeping beast within. And this cruel beast had made her feel more melancholic and more alone than she had in a very, very long time.

_Loneliness eats you alive, swallowing every ounce of hope you had yet to spare. It feasts upon any happiness you have left, leaving behind an empty carcass; full of despair and memories you can't seem to hold onto anymore. It takes your heart into its claws, squeezing out every bit of life you had circulating throughout your opaque veins. It craves for you to suffer a life without any warm hands embracing you, or any shoulders to go cry on. No, this beast wants you to only feel those cold fingertips tracing your soul, getting close to you, yet leaving in the end; abandoning you, once more, for this beast is something you should be afraid of because you have no power over it._

Maya sighed as she stared out the window. Even though she'd made the conscious decision to release her ex-lover from her heart and mind on during her fateful visit to Franziska, there were still times when she missed Phoenix Wright so much, it _hurt_.

 _This_ was one of those times.

_In French, they say **tu me manques**. It translates into "you are missing from me." Much like a limb, organ, or blood, you were a part of me. You were essential to my being. I simply cannot function without you. Not in the same way. Despite what you did to me, I cannot pretend that I'm now a cold, heartless creature when it comes to you. Of course, I still miss you. One minute you were here…and in my life for eight long years… Not just as my lover, but also as my hero, confidante, and the best friend I'd ever had in my life. Now… you're just…gone. Even if I didn't love you, even if I now actually **hated** you, I'd still miss you, Nick. And for the record, I loved the fuck out of you._


	109. Shape Of My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby, please try to forgive me  
> Stay here don't put out the glow  
> Hold me now don't bother  
> If every minute it makes me weaker  
> You can save me from the man that I've become, oh yeah
> 
> Looking back on the things I've done  
> I was trying to be someone  
> I played my part, kept you in the dark  
> Now let me show you the shape of my heart
> 
> Sadness is beautiful, loneliness that's tragical  
> So help me I can't win this war, oh no  
> Touch me now, don't bother  
> If every second it makes me weaker  
> You can save me from the man I've become
> 
> Looking back on the things I've done  
> I was trying to be someone  
> I played my part, kept you in the dark  
> Now let me show you the shape of my heart
> 
> I'm here with my confession  
> Got nothing to hide no more  
> I don't know where to start  
> But to show you the shape of my heart
> 
> I'm lookin' back on things I've done  
> I never wanna play the same old part  
> I'll keep you in the dark  
> Now let me show you the shape of my heart  
> Looking back on the things I've done  
> I was trying to be someone  
> I played my part, kept you in the dark  
> Now let me show you the shape of my heart  
> Looking back on the things I've done  
> I was trying to be someone  
> I played my part, kept you in the dark  
> Now let me show you the shape of
> 
> Show you the shape of my heart

**_Phoenix Wright_**  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
January 1, 2026, 7:30 PM

Running a hand abashedly over his chin, Phoenix winced inwardly at the protruding bristles scraping over his fingertips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shaved – sometime _last year_ , probably. He smiled grimly at his self-directed attempt at drollness.

He’d figured that his appearance wouldn’t matter much that evening, as he’d thought it would be a dead night at the bar. His rationale had been that everyone would still be so hungover from the previous night’s New Year’s Eve festivities, they simply wouldn’t have enough energy to leave the house the next day, and add more _hair of the dog_ to their systems.

Turned out, he was wrong. Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

The joint was ass-to-elbow jam-packed. He couldn’t even see the back wall of the room among the sea of laughing, cheering heads. It was just as well. If he couldn’t see _spaces_ , he wouldn’t be focusing on _faces_. This meant Phoenix could just lose himself into this particular piece he’d long been perfecting, rather than reflecting that a fresh year had been rung in, and yet absolutely nothing was new or improved in the desolate, abysmal, hollow shell that was otherwise known as his general existence.

The bond he had shared with Maya had been like a bridge out of his fortressed mind, it allowed him to set foot outside its protective compound and explore the sun-warmed grass on the other side. Now she had gone, and the bridge had been severed. Now, no matter how many people surrounded him, even in a crowded bar of cheery, drunken regulars – some with questionable music tastes who were fans of his and _enjoyed_ his mediocre pianist performances – he still felt inconsolably desolate, empty, and alone.

 _Love is just a dilemma people tend to believe in. I have observed that people use this term to cover up their actual concerns. Loneliness is what you get out of it; it makes your life miserable, breaks your heart into thousand pieces, and still, each broken part of your heart misses her like your heart missed her as a whole. It keeps you obsessed with her, you just miss her face, her eyes, her smile, her scent, all the time knowing that you are never going to get her again. Life becomes vulnerable as you are enslaved by her thoughts, you try to be normal but you just can’t. Each and every single thing seems meaningless, at starting everything looks_ _extraordinary and ecstatic but in the end, you are left with nothing except agony and emptiness._

The hobo had never felt more bleak or lonesome in his entire life. If his old friends had all simply been physically far away, like Edgeworth (whom he hadn’t heard a peep from in nearly a year now) he could have overcome it with technology. However, since the breakup, and his consequential emotional distance, he’d sensed it was now too late to go back to them – to have to deal with his angry, antagonistic, forsaken point of view on life. That was why he’d opted not to go to Gumshoe’s party last night and just gone home to wallow after work. He couldn’t face seeing them after having pushed them away for so long. No doubt they also blamed him for the deterioration of the relationship with Maya, and now, the chasm between them was simply too devastating to be bridged. It yawned ever wider with each passing day until he knew finally, there was no going back and he would be an outcast for the rest of his days.

Phoenix gave his head a firm shake. He refused to let himself continue down this downward spiraling train of thought. He would not allow himself to wallow self-pity, even though for the most part, his world was full of shadows and gloom.

After all, he still had his darling Trucy, who still managed to light up his otherwise dark world, and who was the sole reason that the ever-present glass bottle resting atop the piano bench was nothing stronger than grape juice. He’d learned Christmas Eve that _very bad things_ tended to happen when he drank anything stronger.

The pianist uncapped the bottle resting at his side (Tyler seemed to have had pity on his sorry ass since his moving Bon Jovi performance and was back to slipping him freebies), and took a long swing from it, hoping to drown his sorrows into its sweet taste.

His daughter was the motivation for him not having gone over the edge, into the alcohol-soaked dark side of the abyss, never to return. Hell, the magician was the sole reason he hadn’t gone and _offed himself_ after his final breakup with the love of his life.

Maya Fey. His first source of light.

He recalled the sorrow of their first meeting, both of them mutually shattered at the shock and grief of finding Mia’s body. In one of the worst moments of his life, as he’d gazed into those pained, red, tear-rimmed eyes staring back at him, instinctively, even then, he’d somehow known that the inconsolable, grieving devastation on her visage, despite still being a stranger to him, matched exactly not only what was on his face, but also within his heart. From the darkness of losing Mia…he’d forged this incomparable, impenetrable bond with Maya Fey, connecting them in some otherworldly way, right from the very start. There was so much more to Maya than Phoenix Wright ever knew – he had been determined to discover every single part of the real person hidden at the bottom of her soul. It was the dawn of the person he had been; the person he’d thought was destined to be. She had made him realize what true love, selflessness, and sacrifice truly were.

_She made me want to be a better man._

Then along had come his daughter when he’d been at his darkest hour, adding her wonderful beacon of light to his life.

How lucky he’d been to have not only had the loving Trucy but Maya right there too, enduring his personal hell right with him, all the while dealing with her own. Together, they had braved the odds, and side by side, they both had survived, even if their hearts bore scars that would never fade. In the end, he had realized that with her beside him, nothing could ever go wrong. With Maya having his back, and vice versa, they could face anything.

In hindsight, he could see how despite the loss of his badge, how blessed he’d been to have had two great loves of his life to aid and see him through, even though fate hadn’t allowed them to come and shine together.

Not even a burning bridge stopped him from trying to save her, rescue her, to try to bring her back to safety. He had almost died that day, but he had done it for her, and he would never regret it. Even back then, he’d known he would have done anything to keep her safe because she’d meant that much to him. He would have done anything to keep her alive, to keep her by his side, and maintain that otherworldly, unbreakable connection they’d forged. That connection which had since brightened up his whole world, like a warm, comforting light he’d always carried him through his life and given him continued strength in all adversity.

Against all odds, Maya Fey had remained by his side. He’d thought nothing could ever take her away from him.

Unfortunately, cruel destiny had decided once more to prove him wrong, and send something against them that would finally be their undoing.

And now his erstwhile soul mate was engaged to be married to another man. One who wasn’t him.

_If someone punches you in the stomach, it’ll hurt whether you were expecting it or not. So, if the person you love stops loving you back, you’re going to feel the blow even if you saw it coming._

When Phoenix had presented that diary page to the court, he hadn't realized that it would decide his future and change his life forever; hadn’t known that it was going to cost him the most important person in his life.

He never could have fathomed that after all they had endured together, a mere little piece of paper would cruelly snatch her from his arms and that a pitiful excuse for a man – an evil, diabolical, madman, would be what severed the unbreakable tie and put the final nail in the coffin, sealing his fate.

_Kristoph Gavin._

The name would forever burn like an eternal curse in his ears.

Because of that monster, where there had once been dual pinnacles of brightness in his life, now Phoenix only had one.

His Trucy. His sole remaining source of light, which somehow, still shined on brightly through the haze, like a lighthouse in the distant skyline.

He’d given his daughter the night off from sidekick poker shark duty. Nobody would be in the right frame of mind to be playing poker that night. At 15, Trucy was old enough to stay home by herself but had remained at Gumshoe and Maggey’s since the night before, along with his ex’s cousin and her boyfriend. Although Pearl’s visits to the city to see his daughter had dwindled to near non-existence since he and Maya’s breakup last spring, he was glad that the two teens were still in touch. Phoenix was grateful that the demise of his own relationship hadn’t affected that of his daughter, and the young girl he would always love as much as his own. However, on the rare instances that he knew Pearl might have been dropping by to see Trucy, either for a visit or en route to visit the Gumshoes, he’d found himself making excuses to quickly make himself scarce, lest he became victim to a sharp slap or pointed choice of words for breaking her cousin’s heart.

Phoenix's current state of mind possibly wasn’t in peak form for piano playing, but he figured having played the song infinite times, he could reproduce it by habitual automatic memory.

 _It's the routine procedure_ , he reminded himself, feeling the cold air from the underground room beginning to hit the bare skin on his face and hands like shards of ice. _It's for the paycheck; it’s for Trucy._

Seven years ago, in another lifetime, a young defense attorney, desperate to declare his affections to the woman he loved, had made a last-ditch, courageous effort to prove his ardor with a certain song. He’d impulsively overthrown Willie Effastop, the unsuspecting pianist in a bar, and taken over the ivories to play a song of his own creation, to the tune of “Grenade” by Bruno Mars, and sung about how he would break every law for her. That final attempted hurrah had been the only way to convince her how much she’d meant to him. At the time, the customers at the tavern had applauded and hailed him for the romantic gesture of his supposed wondrous singing.

None of the cheering crowd that night could have ever foreseen, in a million years, that _not even a month later,_ that acclaimed performer would one day be forced to show off his lackluster piano skills, _in that same bar_ , yet again. Except for this time, it was for the sake of _profit_ instead of _play_. And not as a passionate performer, but as a disgraced former defense attorney. A pathetic, nearly unrecognizable has-been.

There had only been one point in his life that the piano _publicly_ hadn’t been a despised task that represented all that he’d had and lost, and that had been the one time he’d played it for Maya.

He wished like hell she could be there now, but he knew that was an impossible dream. If the fiendish German were to know about Maya having any kind of contact with him, she would have been in danger, he couldn’t have ever risked that. As a result, he’d had no choice but to make the gut-wrenching decision to forcibly eject her from his life forever.

_Damn you, Kristoph._

How easily he could still visualize her, as though she were there. He could picture her standing before him, looking into his eyes, lifting her hand to his face, soft, cool fingertips tracing up the shape of his lips, up the length of his nose and to his eyelids. Then her fingers brushed his cheek and cradled it with her palm. 

_Nick_ , he heard her say. 

Her touch . . . it felt so real. It was almost as if he could physically feel her skin against his. It was just like the previous night, in his room, where he could have sworn that she was there. 

_Nick, Nick, Nick . . . I've missed you so much._

The sound of her voice rang true to his ears.

 _It's so real,_ he thought in wonder, staring at her beautiful face. 

Tentatively, he reached up to touch her cheeks. His rough fingers caressed her face, treating her like a delicate, porcelain doll. Soon, chapped lips replaced rough fingers and his hands ran up her spine, caressing her with tantalizing slowness. He smirked when he felt her delighted shiver and her hands roaming up his back to his biceps, gripping tightly. 

_Nick_ , he heard her murmur. 

"Maya," he whispered back to his hallucination, his lips brushing her forehead.

Phoenix moved his hands down to her waist, pulling her close to him, her chest pressed tightly against his own. He loved the feeling of her heart beating against his. 

" _Nick_." Her voice broke as she grabbed his hoodie tighter and buried her face in the crook of his neck. 

She stretched up on her toes, her lips brushing his ear, making him shudder. 

_I love you_ , he heard her say in his mind, her voice echoing softly into his head. It still sounded so clear to him, as if she were really there. _I loved you then, I love you still. Always have. Always will._

“Maya,” he whispered softly, savoring the feel of her name on his tongue. How he missed that as well. His mind was where she continued to haunt him, where she made her pleasurable jaunts. Where he could still tell her, over and over again, how much he still loved her. How he never had, nor ever would stop, until the day he drew his last breath.

_I like to think back when the tender breath we shared was all but my own. What a stale mist it is within my mouth nowadays. You flourished in life with such a young heart. There was nothing ever to be changed. You had figured your heart long before I could ever set my own. I knew from the moment I met you my life would become a blur. No longer would I be able to count the days that I wasn’t happy. You would become my beacon, my love, my laughter, my **life**. How I long for your lips, your vanilla-sweet scent, the teasing chime of your laughter, the gentle breath of sweet nothings in my ear. If only you knew how simply broken I am without you._

Christ, how he missed his Maya.

 _Maya. Maya. Maya_. Her name ran through his thoughts, as unforgettable to him as she was. He saw her in his mind’s eye, giggling, whispering his name, and beckoning him to reach her.

However, he never, ever could. It was only a figment of his imagination.

_Because she’s promised to belong to another man now. Here’s the inescapable truth – she’s moved on, so I had to tell everyone that I was over it, as well. But it ended up being the worst decision I ever made because then I couldn’t even get to talk about missing her. About how when I coerced her to leave me, she took away the very heart of me._

Phoenix fervently hoped nobody would challenge him at cards tonight. Trucy’s absence notwithstanding, in his current melancholic state, he knew he would undoubtedly lose, which would result in bidding _sayonara_ to his perfect undefeated winning poker streak, and consequently, saying _hello unemployment line_!

_Wouldn’t that just be the ultimate **kick you in the crotch, spit on your neck fantastic** way to kick off the New Year!_

After seven years, the tune to “I Would Break Every Law for You,” otherwise known as “Grenade” was forever seared into his skull, but he only played the piano cover of the song, and he rarely sang along to it. However, sometimes, if he was in decent spirits, and a few consumer bucks accompanied the request for the song, Phoenix would concede and sing the Bruno Mars version. Nevertheless, n _ever, ever_ again did he sing his personalized lyrics, despite the repeated cajoling requests and the tempting dollars waved at him.

Gritting his teeth, Phoenix began to play the familiar song, but somehow _still_ managed to screw up the first few opening bars. He bit back the stream of curses threatening to erupt.

He blamed nobody but himself. The holidays always left him gloomier than usual, because they reminded him of _her_. Consequently, his entire game was off, and he couldn’t even get it together enough to play the tune of the very song he’d started his pianist ‘career’ with! And _sing_? The _one thing_ which normally distracted the crowd from his second-rate piano playing? _Tonight_? _Forget it!_

Phoenix’s shaky fingers made yet another sharp, off-key blunder, and this time, the messing up of the notes resulted in some of the cruelly unforgiving drunken patrons jeering at him.  
  
 _The hell with it all_ , he thought angrily, burying the heels of his hands in his eyes.  
  
In resigned desperation, Phoenix pounded out another song. He hadn’t practiced this one as much, and he winced as his fingers hit a beginning off-key note, which he hoped nobody had noticed. In his tormented condition, he wouldn’t be able to withstand another chorus of boos.

Some things were set in stone, whether you liked it or not, and the fact withstood that Phoenix Wright was a better poker player than he was a singer, and a better singer than a piano player, even though there were some nights when he didn’t have to resort to singing to obscure his lack of pianist skills.

Unfortunately, this was not one of them. He had no choice. He _had_ to sing.

The accompanying lyrics were disturbingly revealing, but he knew Kristoph was away in Germany for the holidays until the next day.

* * *

 **_He deals the cards as a meditation_ **   
**_And those he plays never suspect_ **  
**_He doesn't play for the money he wins_ **  
**_He don't play for respect_ **

* * *

**_He deals the cards to find the answer_ **   
**_The sacred geometry of chance_ **  
**_The hidden law of a probable outcome_ **  
**_The numbers lead a dance_ **

**_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier_ **   
**_I know that the clubs are weapons of war_ **  
**_I know that diamonds mean money for this art_ **  
**_But that's not the shape of my heart_ **

* * *

**_He may play the Jack of diamonds_ **   
**_He may lay the Queen of spades_ **  
**_He may conceal a King in his hand_ **  
**_While the memory of it fades_ **

* * *

**_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier_ **   
**_I know that the clubs are weapons of war_ **  
**_I know that diamonds mean money for this art_ **  
**_But that's not the shape of my heart_ **  
**_That's not the shape, the shape of my heart_ **

* * *

**_And if I told you that I loved you_ **   
**_You'd maybe think there's something wrong_ **  
**_I'm not a man of too many faces_ **  
**_The mask I wear is one_ **

* * *

**_But those who speak know nothing_ **   
**_And find out to their cost_ **  
**_Like those who curse their luck in too many places_ **  
**_And those who fear a loss_ **

* * *

**_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier_ **   
**_I know that the clubs are weapons of war_ **   
**_I know that diamonds mean money for this art_ **   
**_But that's not the shape of my heart_ **   
**_That's not the shape of my heart_ **   
**_That's not the shape, the shape of my heart_ **

* * *

The DILF ruefully acknowledged that he possibly wasn’t as incompetent at the piano as he liked to think he was; it was more of the fact that he had no aspiration to be a piano player and didn’t want to risk internally assuming its identity. It was transience, a means to an end. The true Phoenix Wright's fulfillment lay elsewhere, over the horizon. So tantalizingly within sight yet so far, and still out of reach…

When the song was over, the bar burst into a smattering of applause and cheers. He smiled faintly but did not revel in the crowd’s admiration. He hadn’t been able to do so in seven years. 

_No matter how much I think, no matter how much I try, I can’t fill this void in my heart._

"I love you, Maya," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears as it got lost amongst the throng of shouts and cheers. “Happy New Year.”

He tugged his blue beanie down so that it shadowed his eyes, before closing them against the burning sensation behind his eyelids, unaware that across the room in the far corner, unnoticed and unseen, somebody else was doing the exact same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstreet Boys – Shape Of My Heart (Chapter Quote)  
> Sting – Shape Of My Heart


	110. Tell Me Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Even if I'm clinging onto you out of hypocrisy and obsession, I can't let you go. You've never been your whole self with me. I thought things will get better if I can just hold onto your empty glances but there's no room for me in your heart."

**_Maya Fey_**  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club  
_ January 1, 2026 _,_ 7:25 PM

After spending the previous, mostly sleepless night tossing and turning while wallowing in memories of old before finally snatching a few hours of sleep, Maya felt like 2026 had already started out sucking harder than a Hoover. She'd dragged her feet the entire day around Fey Manor, accidentally-on-purpose waiting until early evening to catch the train down to Los Angeles to go make her promised cameo appearance at Gumshoe's place to grab Luke and Pearly.

For some reason, which, for the life of her, she could not explain to anybody, including herself, she felt compelled to make a certain drop-in, when she knew a certain somebody would be working his shift at a certain place, before going to see her friends.

Therefore, after suffering the majority of the previous evening as a sympathetic bystander of the actions stemming from unrequited love, Maya truly had no justifiable reason for coming to the Russian bar that night, save for the simple fact that she was possibly a closet masochist who was a glutton for punishment. Yet it was a fact that murderers often attended their victim's funerals, was it not? So really, was it that difficult to fathom her irrepressible urge to return to back to where it had all begun?

For the rest of her life, The Borscht Bowl would always be the place she would mentally associate as the proverbial scene of the crime. It had been seven years ago, in this very establishment, after all, that Phoenix Wright had first publicly, then privately, declared his everlasting love to her. A love which, at the time, she had naively believed, with all her heart, was unshakable, unbreakable, and bulletproof – and yet in the mother of all ironies, he had been the one who'd shot her, right through the heart.

_Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name._

Maya smiled gloomily at her own wit and took a sip of her _Dead Lawyer_ drink; hell, if she was going to go nostalgia, she may as well go full-blown! She took a quick gander of her immediate location and surroundings, ensuring she wasn't too far from any exit doors, in the unlikely occurrence that Phoenix or, God forbid, _Iris_ , spotted her, in which case she'd be forced to make a cowardly mad dash out of there.

In an attempt to remain inconspicuously blended amongst the surprisingly busy masses that evening, the spirit medium had worn her long hair up in a nondescript topknot and had donned on leggings with a black turtleneck cotton sweater under a dark denim jacket. Despite it being nighttime, she'd seriously contemplated wearing sunglasses inside the bar, but had vetoed the idea at the last minute. After all, despite her minor media fame as Master of Kurain, she refused to wear her sunglasses at night, as she was no Corey Hart, and had no desire to resemble some sort of desperate celebrity attempting to be incognito. Instead, she'd opted for minimal makeup and accessories, even forgoing the wearing of her distinctive trademark magatama, to avoid standing out.

It turned out that all of her efforts had been completely in vain, as it was so crowded in the tavern you could barely see _your hand_ in front of your face, never mind anyone else's!

_Oh well. At least this time, I'm properly dressed for the frigid temperature of the place!_

Maya's stop-over game plan had consisted of remaining a safely hidden distance away, downing a quick drink, and having a brief listen to Phoenix's pianist repertoire. She was admittedly curious to discover if his music skills had expanded at all since she'd last heard them.

At the time, it had seemed like a harmless enough strategy. Admittedly, even after all this time, in her highly emotional state, the actual _sight_ of her ex would gut her surely. However, _hearing_ him play wouldn't be so bad, would it? From what she remembered, Nick had a very nice voice, so this would be her live musical entertainment for the night; her cultural immersion, if you would.

Maya was in the process of actually trying to convince herself of the validity of this positively ridiculous explanation to justify the fact that she was presently stalking her ex at his workplace, just as Phoenix began to play his next ballad.

There were a couple of breath-halting moments when she heard the first few notes of _that_ song, and her stomach, as well as her heart, gave an unexpected lurch. Of _all_ the songs, in all the world, _how_ could he play _that_ song, the _heartless bastard_? Did he possess absolutely _zero_ sense of sentiment, whatsoever? Of course, Phoenix had no clue that she was lurking in the crowd, would never expect her to be; except for last night with her fiancé, this was her first trip down to LA since they'd split up. Nevertheless, even though _he_ had since moved on, it was unfathomable for her to comprehend that he could genuinely be so blasé and sing the song he'd personalized for her, _in public_ , as effortlessly and readily, as though it were Mary Had A Little Lamb!

The song continued for another few bars, and Maya clutched her glass so hard, her knuckles turned white, only relaxing when ultimately, Phoenix didn't go on to sing the accompanying lyrics. Feeling slightly foolish for her unprecedented knee-jerk response, she let out a small sigh of relief when it appeared that he'd had a change of heart, and was opting to play a different song instead.

Nonetheless, she chided herself for her momentary bout of weakness. After all, it was a _New Year_ now. As she'd lain on her sleepless bed last night, she had opted to make several resolutions, and the first one had been _to quit being such an_ _emo head case_ _about anything pertaining to Phoenix Wright_ , and thus _cease making a sobbing spectacle of herself, in public **and** in private_!

These affirmations, of course, were much easier to adhere to when her ex-boyfriend wasn't _playing or singing_ the customized song with which he'd declared his love for her to, in the background!

The new melody was pleasant to hear, and the pianist was familiar with it, even though the spirit medium wasn't. While she couldn't tell how on or off-key his singing, or playing, was to the unknown ballad, it was pleasing to the ear and didn't appear to be overly poignant.

Then the love of her life began to sing. He was as golden-throated as ever; the rich, warm crooning voice that she'd so dearly loved was still present, and everything else around her seemed to fade away as she focused on the lyrics, her brow furrowed in concentration as she listened to the words.

* * *

**_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier_ **   
**_I know that the clubs are weapons of war_ **   
**_I know that diamonds mean money for this art_ **   
**_But that's not the shape of my heart_ **   
**_That's not the shape, the shape of my heart_ **

* * *

While it wasn't _quite_ a _love song_ … there was still something strangely… _melancholic_ about it…

* * *

**_And if I told you that I loved you_ **   
**_You'd maybe think there's something wrong_ **   
**_I'm not a man of too many faces_ **   
**_The mask I wear is one_ **

* * *

Her head jerked up upon hearing that verse, and inexplicably, tears stung her eyes. _What_ had made her former lover chose to sing _this_ song, with its haunting melody, which could only be described as _heartrending sadness personified_? _This_ … This was nearly as bad if he had sung "I Would Break Every Law for You," if not somehow… _inexplicably **worse!**_

* * *

**_But those who speak know nothing_ **   
**_And find out to their cost_ **   
**_Like those who curse their luck in too many places_ **   
**_And those who fear a loss_ **

* * *

What the hell was going on here?! Phoenix Wright was not a man who was supposed to sound so woebegone about loss! He was supposed to be a man in love – with the fortunate, fair maiden Iris, the woman whom he'd left her for! So why was she, Maya, the one who was feeling such a strong impact by these lyrics, as though he were singing them about her; as if she was the reason that he 'wore a mask'? Above all, why did she suddenly feel like weeping readily and uncontrollably, until there were no more tears left inside of her?

The song ended, and the diviner set down her drained glass and joined in the applause of the other enthused patrons as her ex finished the song. She closed her eyes against the stinging sensation behind them, clapping her hands so hard they nearly felt sore.

* * *

 ** _Maya Fey and Tiffany Pearce_**  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club  
_ January 1, 2026 _,_ 7:35 PM

"Mighty dang good crooner, ain't he?" A familiar voice drawled beside her.

With a start, the village leader looked up and saw Tiffany, the statuesque, bombshell server from that fateful night all those years ago, standing next to her. The scantily clad waitress, still in the same tuxedo booty shorts and cropped ruffled blouse, was standing next to Maya, but facing towards the piano, her empty tray tucked under one tanned, toned arm as she effusively applauded.

"Um, yeah," the Master mumbled, suddenly feeling very awkward and extremely plain in the scantily clad buxom beauty's presence. She was also more than a trifle embarrassed, considering everything that had transpired between them the last time she'd seen Tiffany, none of which had been pleasant. "I'd still say that he's a better singer than a pianist, though."

"Believe yew me, I've been an observer of his ivory tickling skills for quite a spell, and I gotta tell ya, that was _mighty fine playin' –_ for _him_ , anyway! – but I reckon y'all are entitled to be a music critic, even if some opinions are like assholes, in that some are just louder and smellier than others…"

Tiffany finally turned her head to see whom she'd been trying to make idle chatter with, her blue eyes growing large in surprised recognition as she stared at the raven-haired patron.

" _Yew!_ "

Maya dropped her eyes and discreetly began inching her way towards the nearby back exit. The last thing in the world she needed right now was a scene. _Dammit_ , why hadn't she worn her camouflaging sunglasses after all?

"Um, yes, it's me." She smiled weakly, even though her insides were quivering with trepidation. "Hello, Tiffany, long time, no see."

"Well, I _do_ declare missy! I haven't seen ya on these here stompin' grounds in a coon's age! But my, my, my, don't I feel like hostess _without_ the mostest, seeing as how yew know my name and I can't seem to recollect _yers_ …" Tiffany droned in her Alabamian accent, her pretty face screwed up in concentration as she scanned the recesses of her memory. " _Myra_ , was it?"

"It's _Maya_ , actually, but hey, close enough. I've been called _worse!_ How nice to have you even come even _close_ to remembering me, after all, this time…" the psychic took another small step backward, keeping the nervous grin plastered on her face the entire time as she did so. "Happy New Year, by the way!"

"You must be here to see Nick." Tiffany's smiling face bore absolutely no trace of any rancor whatsoever. All of a sudden, her azure orbs widened in alarm and she clapped a scarlet-tipped hand over her plump, glossy lips. _"Dawggonnit!_ I meant _Phoenix_. I beg yer pardon!"

"It's not my place to dictate what you address him as." Maya regarded the other girl as if she had just sprung a third cantaloupe-sized boob upon her forehead. "You can call him whatever you want, Tiffany."

"Well, shut my mouth!" The waitress flashed a mega-watt smile and dramatically pretended to wipe the sweat off her brow. "The _last_ time I called him _Nick_ , yew done got _yer panties in a bunch_! And I ain't got no axe to grind with yew, so I just don't want ya flying off the handle on me again! Because I've said it before, and I will say it again, I ain't the kind of hussy to willingly go after another gal's fella, even if he _is_ still a sight for sore eyes after all this time!"

She flashed one of her trademarked friendly winks.

"Like I said, you can call him whatever you like, Tiffany," Maya repeated dully. She forced a smile upon seeing the bewildered expression on the blonde's face. "Nick – _Phoenix_ and I, we aren't together anymore."

"Well, I'll be!" Tiffany gasped, one slim hand flying to her pneumatic chest. "Talk about getting caught with yer pants down! I had _no inkling_ …dang it, _why did he lie to me then_ …?" A confused look came into her eyes as she murmured the last bit under her breath, then quickly remembered that she had an audience, and shrugged. "That makes a helluva lot of sense then. I reckon _that's_ why _Mr_. _Formerly Devilishly Handsome_ has been looking like _10 miles of bad road_ lately!"

 _Au contraire! If that's true, that doesn't make **any** sense!_ Maya exclaimed to herself. Although she had been unable to see Phoenix over the jam-packed roaring din that night, she had assumed that being with the beautiful Iris would constitute him making _some_ sort of effort with his appearance!

"His girlfriend lives kind of far away," the Kurain head shrugged. "Mayhap he doesn't feel a need to spruce himself up on days he's not seei _ng her, I guess?"_

" _Hang on one_ _cotton' pickin' minute there_! So he _does_ have himself a _lady_ friend – just not _yew_ anymore then?! _Dang scoundrel_! That scallywag's as windy as a sack full of farts!" The buxom beauty now looked more _irritated_ than surprised, which confused the necromancer slightly. A contemplative look came over her visage. "Huh. Might be trouble in paradise for them lovebirds? How else ya done explain that sad, but sweet little ditty he just sang?"

So Maya _hadn't_ been the only have similar thoughts about the song! While evocatively beautiful, the melody had been sung with too much _genuinely_ _soulful, lamenting angst_ to be unnoticeable, but made _no sense in the least_ for a man who'd been reunited with his longtime first love!

"I _thought_ he did," she responded at last. "Have you made any _endeavors_ to ascertain knowledge of his romantic status? You know, find out if he's available?"

"Heavens to Betsy! I've put countless efforts in with that blasted man over the years, as ya very well _know_!" Tiffany scowled. "But it ain't done me no good! He's _completely immune_ to _any_ of _my_ feminine wiles…hell, there was one time I flat out asked him if he wasn't _a dang fruitcake_!"

"You _didn't!"_ Maya giggled, despite herself. "Tell me, how did he respond?"

"He completely _denied_ _being lacy_!" The blonde's scowl deepened. "Then he told me he thought I was beautiful…but he had a soft spot for _raven-haired brunettes_."

Iris had obsidian hair the same color as Maya's. Phoenix had a type, all right!

"I'm assuming he meant _women_ …" the server muttered darkly, obviously still stinging from the unaccustomed rejection. It was understandable. The girl was walking _sex on stick_ , and undoubtedly had more prospects than she knew what to do with! Phoenix's refusal of her advances had probably been a major blow to her ego. She caught Maya's raised eyebrow and shrugged. "I'm just sayin."

"Say whatever you want about my ex, girl…" the Burger Queen faltered, remembering the many passionate nights she and Phoenix had shared over the years, the memories now making a lump form in her throat as she struggled to utter the next words. "B-but he's _not_ gay. Trust me."

_That Iris is one helluva lucky lady!_

Tiffany heard the quiver in Maya's cadence and regarded her with unmasked sympathy.

"Still, he hasn't got the sense God gave a goose if he let a fine gal like yew go!"

"Thank you, Tiffany." She smiled sadly. "Regardless, Nick broke up with me because he was in love with someone else … a _woman_. A very beautiful one."

"That takes the cake!" The Southerner exclaimed. "More purdy than _yew_?"

"She's my cousin." Maya shrugged. "I can't judge."

"Yer _cousin_? Now that just makes my ass itch! And here I thought he sang that song just now because he was all broken up about _love lost_! That _lyin_ , _no-good piece of Yankee slime!"_ The blonde fumed, with such endearingly loyal ferocity that had it been under any other circumstances, the spirit medium would have cracked up. " _He's slicker'n owl shit_! That _varmint_ done left yew for _yer own kin_? If that don't beat all! I'm fixin' to give that low-down snake in the grass a piece of my mind!"

She turned on her heel and started to stomp away but Maya quickly caught up with her.

"Tiffany, wait! Please don't!" The Master begged, placing a hand on the bar wench's arm.

"Why in tarnation won't ya let me give that egg-suckin' dawg a piece of my mind?" Tiffany demanded.

"Nick, he doesn't know I'm here tonight, and I don't _want him to_! I never wanted to interfere with his relationship or his life!" Maya cried. "He told me to go away … and I should have listened. I shouldn't even _be_ here!"

Tiffany's hostile expression softened as she looked down into the petite woman's imploring face, the sorrowful mocha eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She sighed in resignation, shook her head, and then gently patted the brunette on the shoulder.

"Cross my heart, missy, my lips are zipped, I swear it. Yer a good gal. I'll pray for yew."

"Thank you, Tiffany." Maya swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled sincerely at the kindhearted sexpot whom she'd misjudged so long ago. Tiffany was no man-eating bimbo; she was a true lady. "You're a true _Southern Belle_ , both inside and out. I'm so sorry about my atrocious behavior all those years ago…"

"Forget about it, missy. _I_ already have. However, I must take my leave. Tonight I'm busier than a one-armed monkey with two peckers!"

With a final wink, the waitress waved the apology away and headed back into the bar area, leaving a broken but resolute Maya behind in her wake.

She wasn't going to go to Gumshoe's – at least, not _yet_. There was _one more pit stop_ she had to make first! Something was surely _amiss_ here, and she _would_ get to _the bottom of it_ , _no matter **what**_ _the consequences!_

Maya took a deep breath to steady herself and headed to the exit door. Then she looked back forlornly over her shoulder one final time, in the general direction of the piano in the corner of the bar.

_Happy New Year, my love._

* * *

**_Maya Fey and Iris Hawthorne_**  
 _Hazakura Temple_  
January 1, 2026, 9:00 PM

The spirit medium had messaged Pearl on the cab ride back to Kurain, citing that she wasn't sure she'd be able to make it over to Gumshoe's that night, due to some last-minute important Master business that she desperately needed to tend to, immediately. Maya also advised her little girl that she and Luke were free to return to the village on their own whenever they wished, but needn't wait for her arrival.

_Thank God, psyche locks cannot be detected over cell phone texts! I hate lying to Pearly, but what choice do I have?_

The Master didn't even bother with any trivialities or small talk as she stormed into the temple and found Iris, in her customary garments, finishing the sweeping of the main entrance. The shrine maiden looked beyond startled when she looked up and saw her cousin standing there, hands-on-hips, and visibly fuming.

"Mystic Maya!" She gasped, her slender fingers fluttering to her parted lips. "This is most unexpected – but of course, it's wonderful to see somebody from the village besides Mystic Mildred. Happy New Year. If you've come to see Sister Bikini, I'm afraid she's already gone to bed…"

"Happy New Year to you, _cousin_." The words sounded downright venomous, even to her own ears, and Iris cringed upon hearing them.

The village leader took a deep breath to steady her nerves in an attempt to calm herself. She hadn't realized just how much resentment she still harbored towards the other woman even a year later but knew that she would not get anywhere if she walked in there with her guns blazing.

"The good Sister is not the person who I came here to see at all. It is _you_ whom I seek."

"Certainly." Iris turned and leaned the wicker broom against the stone wall, then turned back with a polite but apprehensive smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I suppose I am slightly delayed in congratulating your newly free-bird self on being sprung from jail at last," Maya drawled, unable to keep the sarcasm from positively dripping off her tongue. "I imagine Nick would've been the one behind your early release?"

"Um, yes he was," Iris answered hesitantly after a brief pause. "Feenie arranged for his friend Prosecutor Edgeworth to take over and put the motion into completion after he ...um, you know, was unable to do so himself. He's _so wonderful._ "

_Holy Custer's last stand! I was **so** not prepared to hear Iris start gushing about my ex, ad nauseam! I'd best change the subject of Nick's praises before I projectile vomit in her general direction!_

"Yes, I can certainly see why you would think so," she replied tightly. "I take it that means things are going pretty well for the two of you?"

"Better than I could've ever hoped," the nun responded with utmost sincerity.

_Considering I thought Feenie would hate me forever after what I did, and instead he has offered me his eternal friendship and unconditional trust as well as forgiveness..._

"Huh. So I guess that means you're in touch with him a lot, then?"

"Yes."

Iris had already decided her best course of action against this not-so-subtle Spanish Inquisition was to keep her replies short and sweet.

_If you can broaden the definition of keeping in touch to mean **I** call **him** and Feenie calls me back whenever he can, which tends to be on a sporadic basis ... but he forewarned me as much._

The diviner arched an eyebrow at the unexpected brief answer, so Iris felt compelled to make an addendum.

"I mean, we're both very busy people, you know, what with me helping out Sister Bikini with the cabin rentals now, on top of my normal shrine temple duties, and Feenie being a single, hardworking father and all..."

"Relax, I get it, I get it!" Maya subjected the demure woman to a piercing stare as she spoke. "We're _all_ extremely busy, but surely, he still _makes_ the time to come up and see you?"

"Actually..." Iris hedged. "I invited him and Trucy to come up for Christmas."

"I – I see." Maya faltered at this response, and the words came out sounding as flustered as she suddenly felt. "Y-You mean – _you've_ metTrucy? Like, in person?"

Iris smiled sweetly at the memory of the magician; oblivious of the unexpected sucker punch to the gut this revelation had caused her cousin, who _within six years,_ hadn't even had Phoenix's daughter be made _aware_ of her _existence!_

"Yes, I have. Such a delightful girl! So pretty, and smart and sweet! Feenie has been doing such a great job raising her."

The Master closed her eyes for a moment as waves of unexpected pain washed over her. She hadn't thought that this visit was going to be overall pleasant, but she also hadn't expected any of the revelations to cause her this level of angst. For all his lies and excuses, she had genuinely believed that Phoenix had had good reasons for never allowing her path to cross with his daughter's; that even after the whole mess with the social worker had died down, that he generally had been concerned for her reputation with the elders and her overall safety. But obviously, he just hadn't thought that she had been fit to be seen as the potential mother of his only child. Maya felt her heart constrict with the agony of that realization. A bullet to the chest would have hurt her less at this point.

Anxious for an excuse to look away from the other woman’s benign expression, she reached under her turtleneck and began fidgeting with her magatama, which she had taken out of her purse and refastened in the taxi, en route to the village. As she absently stroked the mystical gemstone with trembling fingers, she was unaware of how the glint of her pink diamond ring twinkled under the bright flames of the surrounding temple torch lamps and caught her cousin's admiring glimpse.

"Oh, what a ring! That's just gorgeous!" The nun said warmly. "By the way, cousin, Sister Bikini told me about your engagement! She is so excited and happy for you! I believe it is my turn to wish a most heartfelt congratulations to _you_."

"Thank you," Maya replied numbly. "I'm, er, still getting used to the weight of this thing. Ah, _speaking of jewelry_ , is it a fair assumption that since Nick has allowed you to meet daughter, coupled with your longtime history with him, that the topic of … _rings_ have also come up with _you_ , as well?"

"Truth be told, yes. The subject of rings _has_ been brought up to me."

Once again, Iris was telling the truth.

_Mind you, it was with my enraged half-sister, who threatened to slap me to the moon when she told me about the **promise ring** Feenie gave to you because he was going to marry you, but that's neither here nor there._

The shrine maiden anxiously eyed her cousin's impossible-to-miss magatama.

_So far so good! I haven't **lied once**._

The spirit medium's glance followed the direction of her kinswoman's nervous orbs, and her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously, as she reflexively curled her fingers over the glowing gemstone.

"You really do love him, don't you?" She asked at last.

"I always have." Iris met her gaze unflinchingly. "I never stopped."

"Yes, well, I suppose old feelings die hard." Maya turned her head away then, unable to withstand the look of unrestricted love in those doe eyes staring back at her another moment. "I suppose _he_ loves _you_ , too?"

Iris stuck with the same response she had given her half-sister nearly a year ago to the same question.

"I – I'd like to think so."

Unfortunately, the split-second hesitation in her reply caught Maya's notice, and she raised her face back up, now wearing a look of intense scrutiny.

"You affirmed that you _have_ been in contact with him and that you asked him to come up for Christmas," the necromancer began slowly, never tearing her piercing eyes from her cousin's nervous visage. "But tell me… _did_ Nick end up making the trip up here?"

Iris's eyes widened with panic as her mind frantically groped for a way to give a vague but convincing answer to such a direct question. Maya noticed her uncertainty and her tone grew slightly louder and more accusing.

"Would you prefer if I asked you something _less ambiguous_ , Sister Iris?" She spat, her mocha eyes flashing now. "If he _wasn't_ up here during the holidays, _have_ you seen Nick _recently_ , at all?"

Iris felt her heartbeat quickening and her breath coming out in shorter rasps at the look of unmistakable, contemptuous loathing in the Kurain master's eyes, which could no longer be disguised.

"It appears that I am _still_ being too vague. Would you prefer if I _spelled it out for you_ , **_dear cousin_**?" Maya took a step forward and leaned closer to the now trembling shrine maiden so that they were nearly nose to nose, incensed dark orbs now boring into the nun's. "Have you _seen Phoenix Wright in person, at all_ **_since you got out of prison_**?!"

Iris's eyes filled with tears, and her lips began to tremble. She had never, ever wanted to betray Phoenix, and had always intended to keep her promise to go along with his plan. She'd even prided herself on being successful with Pearl last year. However, it now appeared that lightning wasn't about to strike twice in the same place with her sister's slightly more perceptive, and only _marginally less volatile_ yet equally as fiery guardian.

"Cousin, I – "

"Holy blast from the past! Maya baby, how long has it been?" A familiar voice suddenly crowed, as though from nowhere. "Happy New Year!"

The next thing the spirit medium knew, she was unexpectedly crushed in the arms of none other than Larry Butz!

The artist swooped down from out of the clear blue, wrapping his old friend in an effusive embrace, rocking them both back and forth with the fervor of his visible delight at seeing her. It was only when Maya began to gasp from lack of air that he slightly released his hold and drew back, his animated eyes bright with affection.

"I don't think I have laid eyes on you since your 21st birthday!" Larry exclaimed, his happy goofy grin as evident as ever. "Look at you, still as pretty as a picture! How you been?"

Maya recovered from her surprise long enough to at last greet the man whom she had always felt a wry fondness for, although at this particular moment, she was mentally cursing him for his godawful timing!

"Happy New Year, Larry," she murmured, her eyes darting back towards Iris, who was discreetly stepping away from the two and slinking back inside the temple. Sighing with resignation, she forced a friendly smile for her ex-boyfriend's childhood pal and gently pulled out of his suffocating hug. "It's great to see you. I guess your art tour is finally over?"

"You bet!" Maya was treated to another big goofy grin. "I'm back for good now, baby! And where's a better place to be, than the very location that first inspired my artistic pursuits?"

"Yes, where better indeed?" The Master agreed. "Well, it's been great seeing you Larry, but it's getting late, and it's a good half-hour walk back to the village, so I'm going to get moving. I'll see you later. And welcome back."

With that, she turned and walked away feeling both downtrodden and chagrined about her whole venture to the temple. Iris had not appeared to be lying, this was true, but she was uncertain how things would've turned out had it not been for Larry's all too perfectly timed interruption. It could've been her imagination, but she was almost positive that Iris had been struggling for a way to worm her way out of replying to the most important question of all, which had been the last time she had set eyes on Phoenix in the flesh.

_Oh well. This was probably a big mistake. I don't know what I was thinking. What does it matter anymore, anyway?_

* * *

**_Larry Butz and Iris Hawthorne_**  
 _Hazakura Temple_  
January 1, 2026, 9:20 PM

The minute he had ascertained Maya was out of sight, Larry ran back up the steps of the temple and cupped his hands around his mouth as he directed his shout towards the inner entrance.

"Hey, Iris! The coast is clear! You can come out now!"

Iris cast a furtive glance around as she timidly stepped back outside.

"She's finally gone!" The nun observed, heaving an enormous sigh of relief, before flashing a grateful smile at the artist. "Oh thank heavens! I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't shown up at that moment Laurice! I owe you one!"

"I returned from Gumshoe's not too long ago, then I came up here to see you, not knowing you'd have company, so I admit, I kind of hung back in the shadows and was listening to you two for a bit. I didn't want to interrupt," Larry confessed, blushing slightly at having been eavesdropping. "I just chose that exact moment to make my presence known, because it seemed like things were getting pretty intense between the two of you!"

"How much did you hear?" Iris stared at the ground, her cheeks reddening.

"Enough to know that Maya still hates your guts and holds you responsible for her breakup with Nick." Larry jammed his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "I mean, I don't know what to say about that… She's _engaged_ now! _Yeesh_! I'd have thought she would've gotten past it by now but I guess she's still holding onto that grudge…"

"Please, Laurice, don't say anything more," Iris pleaded while eying him beseechingly. "I cannot bear to hear any sort of disparagement about my cousin! She and Feenie were together for a very long time. I can understand her still being upset, engaged, or not."

She raised limpid eyes to meet compassionate brown ones.

"I - I know better than anybody that regardless of how much time passes, Feenie is not an easy man to get over."

"Yeah, Nick's a lucky man to have such loyal devotion," Larry mumbled, not looking at her now. "Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a Happy New Year, Iris, and let you know that I'm back, and since Mystic Mildred is now shacked up in my former residence of Heavenly Hall, I'm staying up here at one of the guest cabins for an indeterminate amount of time."

"It's nice to have you back," she said kindly. "I look forward to hearing about the adventures on your art tour all over the world, Laurice."

"Oh, right." Larry walked over to the giant stone statue of Mystic Ami situated in the middle of the temple entrance, where he had been lurking in the shadows, and retrieved the canvas, approximately 8 x 10 in size, with a cloth over it, that he'd been hiding behind it. "I, um, I made this for you while I was away. I hope you like it."

"Um, that's so nice of you. You _really_ shouldn't have…" Iris winced inwardly as she recalled the last "artistic endeavor" – when he'd had tried to capture her essence as a cartoon-like, _flying stick figure_ over a burning bridge!

However, as she unwrapped the gift, her astonished orbs widened with surprised pleasure as she uncovered a beautiful portrait likeness of herself, in her shrine maiden garb, but without the hood on her head. Larry had captured her glossy black waves tumbling, long and loose around her shoulders, and Iris' intricately painted bright eyes and parted lips appeared so lifelike, it looked as if she were about to speak.

Larry was regarding her with nervous anticipation, and her eyes were still round with amazement as she ogled him with awe.

"Oh, Holy Mother, Larry…"

"Do you like it?" He asked shyly.

"I _love_ it," she breathed. "You've come a long way over the years in honing your craft. Your late mentor would be so proud of you."

"Thank you. It means so much to me to hear you say that." He swallowed hard. "I was counting the days until I could come back and give this to you in person, instead of just mailing it to you."

"It's a very flattering likeness." Her cheeks were pink. "I don't know if I am worthy of claiming to be as much of a beauty as you have portrayed me to be in this painting, but I am beyond humbled and grateful for it."

"Trust me, Iris, you're more than worthy," he said gruffly. "I could see your image so clearly in my mind while I was away, I didn't even need to look at a picture to paint it. That's how vividly I remembered every feature, every contour of that beautiful face of yours. It took me over two months to do, and about a thousand sketches and drafts because I wanted it to be perfect."

He jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.

"H- Happy Birthday, Iris."

"My goodness!" Her fingers flew to her lips in astonishment. "Y – You remembered that today was my birthday, after all this time? The only one who normally knows my day of birth is Sister Bikini … and even the good sister forgot this year … what with the news of Maya's engagement and her advancing age and her back acting up tonight…"

"I never forget things that are important, Iris." His voice was uncharacteristically serious now. "I remembered _everything_ about you while I was away."

"Thank you so much, Laurice. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for this unexpected gesture of kindness."

"Well, for one thing, please stop calling me by my artist title. I'm not on tour anymore, so I don't need to use my professional name. I would like it very much if you just call me Larry because that's who I am. Not even touring around the world could let me escape that underneath all the claim and fame, I'm still Larry Butz."

"I had no idea that you were trying to run away from him." She tilted her head to the side and eyed him quizzically. "Nor do I have any idea why you would. I like Larry Butz. I think he's a really nice guy."

"A nice guy who's always finished last with the ladies." He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Who's gotten dumped by every girlfriend he's ever had. And who's always fallen in love with the women he can't ever have."

He looked her squarely in the eye.

"Sometimes because they're not available and other times because they're in love with my best friends."

"Are you referring to your crush on Franziska when you kept asking her to pose for your children's illustration book?" Iris asked in confusion. "I mean, she's with Miles now but surely you've gotten over that by now?"

"I wasn't talking about Franziska." Larry shook his head, his intense gaze never wavering from hers. "As you said, that was a crush, and nothing more. In my whole life, I've only _truly_ loved _once_."

Iris blinked as the meaning of his words sunk in. If he wasn't talking about best friend _Miles_ , did that mean that he was referring to … _Phoenix?_ Could he possibly mean … _her_?

" _M - me_?" She whispered, her hand fluttering to her chest. "I remember you admitted to loving me before, but that was seven years ago…"

"I – I never stopped," he admitted, his expression tender but sad. "Nick isn't the only one who is hard to get over, Iris."

"B – but why _me_? I am not worthy of such affection!" She burst out, entirely flummoxed. "I come from one of the most powerful psychic families on earth yet despite Sister Bikini's and Mystic Matilda's best training efforts this past year, I'm still the only existing, _useless_ Fey _without any spiritual power_! Moreover, this face of mine … is only a reminder that I am _the mirror image_ of a monstrously evil, serial killer twin sister, who although dead, _will never be forgotten_ by those who I care for. And your best friend was nearly killed because of me!"

"Number one," Larry replied evenly. "Rome wasn't built in one day and these things may take time. Don't throw in the towel on your progress into the spiritual world just yet. It sounds like Bikini and Matilda haven't given up on you just yet, and neither should you. As for Nick, you were trying to protect him."

He took a step closer so she could see the veracity in his eyes.

"Spiritual power or no spiritual power, you are the _furthest_ thing from useless _to me_. Moreover, as for that visage you so loathe, whenever _I_ look at it, all I see is _you –_ the kindest woman I've ever met, who genuinely cares about people, and has the most beautiful face, but moreover, most beautiful _heart_ , I've ever known."

Iris stared deeply into Larry's big, puppy-dog brown orbs, and was touched by the sincerity and unmistakable love she saw there, a love she'd never dreamed she would ever see in another man's eyes, ever again. It made her want to open her own heart to him and let him know how much his words meant to her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the goateed man just shook his head and was already turning away from her.

"Forgive me, milady." He gave her one last, tortured glance, before dropping his gaze to the ground. "I shouldn't have said any of this. I broke the _Bro Code_ once when I expressed my feelings to you back in the day before I knew that you were Nick's ex-girlfriend. Nevertheless, I was still guilty of the offense. It's even worse now since I know not only your past with him, but that you're back together with him again. Therefore, bearing my soul like this in such a manner, where in the past, may have been pardonable, is now completely inexcusable and unforgivable. A bro _never willingly goes after another bro's girl_ , Iris."

"Larry – _please_. Don't say that…" She protested weakly, but he shook his head and held up his hand.

"No, please. Stop. I don't need your pity." His expression was morose as he began to slowly shuffle away, too lost in his self-pity to see the tears forming in her eyes. "Because as you told your cousin tonight, you're in love with my best friend. That's _all_ that matters. It doesn't matter how much I love you, and how I never stopped."

His voice broke slightly.

"G – Good night, Iris. Sweet dreams."

The shrine maiden stared after his dejected, retreating form, feeling completely heavy-hearted. How she yearned to tell him how wrong he was, and how touched she was that such a kindhearted, talented, and _loving_ man carried a place for her in his heart; that it _did_ matter how much he loved her. She wanted to cry out that her heart was open to maybe learning to love him back as well – if only things could be different for them.

But alas, they could not, because her hands were tied.

She'd made a binding promise to Feenie, and there was nothing she could do about it now, even if it called for sacrificing her own pursuit of happiness. Iris owed Phoenix Wright the world, and she had given him her _honor-bound word_. It was her _bond_ , and she would _die_ before she ever went back on it, even if that meant spending the rest of her days alone in that temple, yearning for a chance at a new love that could never be.

"I'm sorry, Larry," she whispered, the tears that had been welling up in her eyes now trickling down her cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry."


	111. The Mind Eraser Deviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ever wonder WHY Ema hates that glimmerous fop so damn much? I give you...the roots of the antipathy! 😛

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There's an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar."

**_Ema Skye and Lana Skye_** _  
The Borscht Bowl Club_  
April 17, 2019, 10:00 PM

"I wish that pianist would shut the holy hell up and seize his horrendous caterwauling already!" Ema exclaimed, dramatically putting her hands over her ears. "I'm not drunk enough yet to block out that lugubrious warbling! Will he ever stop?!"

"He hasn't ceased polluting our ears for the past 5 minutes, although it feels like 5 years!" Lana agreed, wrinkling her nose in the direction of the blond piano player, who was presently emitting unforgivably, god-awful butchering of "The Lady Is A Tramp" by Frank Sinatra. "He's not a bad musician … It's just…"

"It's just that his vocal massacring is totally harshing on the celebration buzz of my big sister's bachelorette party!"

"Come on, Ema, this is ludicrous!" Lana protested laughingly as the two women moved through the tavern. "How can you possibly claim that this is my bachelorette party when due to the currently incarcerated status of the future bridegroom, I have no wedding date within sight and have been only been engaged for approximately 24 hours?"

"Quit your grousing!" Ema shot back with a grin, spotting a few of her sister's University girlfriends sitting in a corner at the table and waving at them as she and Lana made their way through the crowded bar. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to throw together this quickie stagette celebration _at the last minute_?!"

"And I appreciate it, I _do_!" Lana insisted. "It just seems like _stagette_ is a crazy thing to refer to it as, all things considered…"

"Would it make you feel any better, Sis, if we just called it: _‘your engagement party before you ship off to Europe to begin extensive undercover Interpol training'_ … for God knows how long?" The science lover countered. "I still cannot believe I came back from Europe to visit my favorite sister, merely a sennight ago, only to have you be shipping out not even a week after! Had I known that was going to happen, I would've ducked out of school sooner, so I could have had more time with you!"

"I'm sorry, Ema," the elder Skye sighed mournfully as they shuffled their way through the swarming masses towards the table. "But you know I have to take this offer, as it was a stipulation of my parole. If I do this and partake in the top-secret mission after my training, they will completely expunge my criminal record after a decade. At the risk of sounding cliché, they made me an offer I just couldn't refuse."

"What about Jake?" The wannabe scientist's brow furrowed with concern. "What are you going to do if he gets paroled early while you're away on your undercover mission, which I am 100% positive is going to be beyond life-threateningly dangerous, otherwise anyone would be leaping at this golden opportunity!"

"Then I guess my cowboy will just have to wait for me, the way I promised I'd wait for him," Lana replied hollowly, a haunted look coming over her face at the mention of her beloved fiancé. "But don't you worry about me, little sister. I was a trained detective, after all, so I am hardly a stranger to danger!"

"I know. You're right." The younger Skye put a hand on her sibling’s shoulder then. "But Sis … I'm also allowed to express concern for the only family I've got left, aren't I?"

"Ema Skye, don't you dare make me cry at my own bachelorette/engagement party!" Tears filled the newly betrothed's eyes. "Don't you know that leaving you, my baby, is the hardest thing of all? If I didn't think you were going to be in good hands staying with Hope, I never would've taken this mission."

"Don't worry." Ema pulled her sister into a tight embrace and swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Your coroner friend has been an absolute angel. And I'm a big girl now. I'm going to finish my schooling, and become a forensic scientist, and make you so proud of me! Maybe someday, we'll be working alongside each other!"

"Absolutely nothing would bring me greater joy." Lana sniffled, wrapping her arms around the girl she'd raised as a daughter and hugging her fiercely. "No matter _what_ you do, Ema Skye, know that I will _always_ be proud of you."

Suddenly, a passerby jostled the siblings while trying to walk past them, and the teary-eyed sisters reluctantly separated and smiled sheepishly at one another.

"Man, we're a couple of party poopers, huh?" The ex-detective attempted to joke while dabbing at her eyes.

"No kidding! This tragic, abysmal mood calls for immediate upheaval, via mind erasing obliteration!" The lab coat wearer declared, gently giving her sister a gentle shove towards the table. "I'm going to go get the first round you go enjoy yourself with your girls. How's a couple of Mind Eraser shooters sound?"

"Throw in a couple of G-String cocktails, and you got yourself a deal," the former jailbird grinned. The younger Skye arched an eyebrow at the name of the drink and she shrugged. "What? You know Jake used to croon country songs to me while strumming at his acoustic guitar ... G was his favorite chord! It reminds me of him, OK?"

"Hey, no judgment here!" Ema put her hands to indicate her lack of intended offense. "I'll be right back with the drink that's named after a guitar string… _not_ the butt floss!"

Giggling, Lana strolled away as the petite brunette attempted to fight her way through the chockblocked room towards the swarmed bartender. She stood there patiently in line, arms crossed and absently drumming her slender fingers against her forearm until at last, she was the next person to be served.

Suddenly, without warning, just as Ema was about to step in front of the bartender, she felt herself being roughly jostled as a tall, flaxen-haired man - wearing _sunglasses_ of all things, even though it was nighttime and indoors! – shoved past her and butted right in front of her in the line, as though he Goddamn owned the place! Without even looking around, he snapped his fingers arrogantly to get the server's attention.

"Two _Jägerbombs_ , _ja?"_ He ordered brusquely, apparently blissfully unaware of what he had just done. "Just put on my tab."

"Right away, Mr. Gavin, right away!" The bartender replied quickly, already reaching for the requested liquor bottles, much to Ema's irritation. "Will that be all?"

"Um, _excuse_ me?" Completely livid, Ema reached over and tugged at the raisin colored sleeve of the wannabe Corey Hart. "You just completely cut in front of me! I was here first."

Taking advantage of the intruder's momentarily startled state as he unconsciously took a step backward, she stepped forward, while purposefully keeping her back turned to the line jumper. She then solely addressed the man behind the bar, as though the blond man were not even present.

After all, if _he_ wasn't going to even pretend to acknowledge _her_ existence, why should _she_ do otherwise?

"I'll have two Mind Eraser shots and two G-String cocktails, please."

"Sorry, Miss." The bartender looked at her apologetically. "I didn't see you there. Er - do you mind if I take care of this lady first, Mr. Gavin?"

" _Mind?!"_ Ema snapped. She tossed her long brown hair back over her shoulder and subjected the obnoxious customer to her best contemptuous scowl before turning back to the mixologist. "I should hope good manners would dictate that _Mr. Gavin_ wouldn't at all object to being served in the order that he arrived, which was right _after_ me!"

The tavern employee glanced nervously at the incensed brunette, and then back at the now amused-looking male patron, who had crossed his arms across his tanned, muscled chest, revealed by the top three unopened buttons, and was flanked by a heavy-linked chain, from which dangled a huge silver _G_ pendant.

"Excuse me, Miss…" The barkeep bent over and put his head down, lightly touching the sleeve of her lab coat, indicating her to lean closer to him. "A word, please?"

"Yes? What is it?" Ema was beyond exasperated now as she tilted her ear towards him. "May I get my drinks _sometime this century_ , please?"

"Don't you know _who that **is**?"_ The bartender hissed in her ear. Seeing her blank stare as the response to the question, the young man's eyebrows nearly jumped into his hairline and his tone was incredulous now. "Have you never heard of the _internationally renowned rock band_ , The Gavinners?! This man is their _lead singer_ , Mr. Kla –"

"Don't worry about it, Christian," the blond man interjected smoothly. "The young _Fräulein_ was indeed here before I was, so go ahead and serve her."

Christian appeared relieved at being granted "permission" and hurried about getting Ema's order. The supposed rock singer then pushed his dark sunglasses up into his chin-length, tousled waves and peered down at her irate face, a slight smirk playing upon his full lips.

"I honestly didn't see you there," he said offhandedly, in an unmistakably thick German accent. "So do you think you could quit glaring at me now, _Fräulein_?"

 _You're so full of **Scheiße** , your eyes may as well be **brown!**_ Ema fumed indignantly, her admittedly short-fuse reigniting at the most graceless _non-apology_ known to man! _The bloody **Arschloch** damn near flattened my boob with his arm when shoving past me!_

"Is that supposed to be how the so-called men apologize in Germany?" Ema demanded, putting her hands on her hips, and, hating how his leanly muscled frame towered over her by nearly a foot, drew herself up to her full 5'1. "Listen, _Stretch_ , I may be small, but I am no more _invisible_ than I am an _idiot!_

You _deliberately_ shoved past me and you _damn well know it!_ You just weren't expecting me to _say_ anything, just because apparently you're in some little rock band or something!"

The smirk disappeared from the man's tanned face and he narrowed his cerulean eyes slightly.

" _Little rock band?"_ He repeated disbelieving, as though she had just uttered blasphemy. "I beg your pardon, _Fräulein._ Don't you even know _who I am?"_

Ema could not believe the gall of this _audacious_ **_Schwein_** _!_ Regardless of _who_ this guy was – he could've been _Mick Jagger_ for all she cared! – _what_ the arrogant jerk was still _sorely_ lacking were _basic decorum and social etiquette!_ At this point, she couldn't have given a _rat's ass_ **_who_** the hell he was! She didn't even give a damn about the fact that he was good-looking. Which she _supposed_ he was, in a tanned, blond, Adonis, man-pretty sort of way. _If_ that was your thing. Which, of course, it most certainly _wasn't!_

"Asking me if I even _care_ would've been the better question!" She retorted, reaching over and grabbing the drinks the bartender was now pushing towards her at the bar. "Regardless of _who_ the hell you think you are, _here in America,_ we _wait our turn in line_ amongst the other _mere mortals,_ regardless of our supposed celebrity status, or _inflated sense of self-importance_!"

Rather than looking annoyed, or even affected by her outburst, the man turned towards the bar for a split second to grab the two drinks he'd ordered as well, and then had the _nerve_ to cock a derisive, well-groomed brow at her instead, which only infuriated her even more.

"Are _all_ American girls as feisty as you, _Fräulein_?" He asked silkily, leaning down towards her so that she could catch a whiff of his woodsy aftershave. "Or is there something _about_ _me_ , _in particular,_ that seems to have gotten under your skin?"

She felt her face growing hot for some reason at his sudden nearness, and now that they were down at near face to face level, she could see the man's eyes were quite an electric blue, but not in the recurrent way the phrase 'electric' was used. Ema was a scientist, and thus had spent many hours in the lab swirling and concocting many variously-hued liquids in test tubes and knew all colors and the many different shades there were to them. To every shade, there were ten more shades abaft it, and this smug man's eyes were the perfect kind of electric blue for him. Striking yet soft. Not the charging shock that paralyzed you or crawled under your muscles, but the kind that made your blood dance. She felt her face growing even warmer.

" _Omigod!"_ A girl suddenly squealed from behind the man. "It's really _you_! I can't believe it!"

The next thing the scientist knew, a voluptuous ginger-haired harlot had lurched herself at the singer from behind, sending him sprawling forward, _face-first,_ into the unsuspecting Ema's previously abused _chest!_

The brunette shrieked as the jostled drinks in her hand splashed all over her pristine white lab coat! Miraculously, the man managed to lift his arms in the air so she didn't wind up wearing _his_ drinks as well, but she was completely drenched and utterly fuming as, rather than apologizing, he turned around instead to stare at the clumsy, blushing _fangirl!_ The redhead who had caused the accident was now staring at the two of them with enormous, alarmed eyes, a hand clapped over her mouth in horror.

"I'm _so sorry_!" She gasped. "Somebody bumped into me, and I stumbled into you – I swear it was an accident!"

"No harm was done, _schöne Frau_ ," the musician replied easily, flashing a toothy, megawatt smile, making him look like he was auditioning for a toothpaste commercial, which only made Ema even _more_ irked, and made the fangirl to visibly swoon.

"This is _such_ a thrill, you have _no_ idea!" She gushed, batting her heavily mascaraed lashes. "I'm your _biggest_ fan! Do you think you could give me your autograph?"

"I'd be delighted to. Do you have a pen?"

The spluttering and soaked forensic scientist just stood there, _with her blood boiling,_ at this entire exchange!

"You're even _more gorgeous_ in person, you know!" The fangirl fished into her purse for a pen. "Holy cheese and tiny little crackers! I don't seem to have anything to _write_ on!"

"Huh. That does complicate things somewhat..."

"In the meantime, you can make out the autograph to Candi. With an ' _i_ ' by the way," she cooed, then gave a saucy wink. "Again, I'm _so_ sorry about the incident, by the way!"

"Think nothing of it _schöne Frau!_ Now, where shall I sign?"

"How about … _right here?"_ Candi breathed, thrusting out her pneumatic chest, amply displayed in a sparkly tube top that looked as though it'd been spray-painted on! "You can write … _'to clumsy little Candi_ … _I'll never forget how we met'."_

"Ah…" The musician gulped and appeared slightly uncomfortable. "Perhaps I can write on a surface where all that writing…er, won't be necessary? After all, there's no use crying over not yet spilled Jägerbombs, ja?"

"Might _I_ make a suggestion?" The rage in the forensic scientist student's tone was unmistakable as it became glaringly evident that the singer was wholly oblivious to what he had just done to Ema! "Perhaps we can weep over _spattered shooters_ and _dripped drinks,_ instead?"

The rocker spun around, appearing extremely grateful for the reprieve from a potentially awkward as hell situation! However, the relief on his face was immediately replaced by one of utter mortification as he took in her pink-splattered lab coat and cringed at her tightlipped, stormy eyed expression.

" _Achtung Baby!"_ He gasped, looking genuinely contrite now. "Did I do _that?!"_

Ema's temper had now reached a fevered pitch, partially spawned, she was dimly aware, of the fact that this _boob-baring bimbo_ had gotten to be dubbed _pretty girl_ in German, whereas _she_ had merely been addressed as the more polite _Miss_ and was hence first _completely_ _overlooked_ and now, to add insult to injury, _utterly ignored,_ up until _this moment_!

"Perhaps if _my_ assets were as aptly displayed as Miss Candi's golden globes over there, you would've more clearly remembered giving me a G-String shower when you launched, face-forward into my chest?!" Ema shouted, her face red with fury. "You klutzy, arrogant, superficial … _Dummkopf!"_

The musician flashed what he hoped was a charming grin as he forced himself to meet her Arctic gaze, feeling unexpectedly drawn into her eyes. The icy green generated the feeling of being pulled into a swirling ocean of frozen emotions. It was as if all the myriad shades of turquoise swirled together to form a whirlpool of apprehension. He could tell by her body language that she did not like him, and those flickering teal orbs confirmed his thoughts. However, he'd never encountered a woman in his entire life that he _hadn't_ been able to beguile… _yet._

" _Fräulein_ , I'm terribly sorry. Is there _any way_ I could make this up to you… Perhaps tickets to my next concert?"

"Is this your idea of some kind of _bad joke_?!" Ema exploded wrathfully. "On _what universe_ could you _possibly_ think that seeing a second-rate, undoubtedly _lousy show_ for your little boy band – which I have _never even heard of! –_ would make me feel better about the fact that I am now _wearing_ my drinks! I mean, hello! I'm earth! Have we met?!"

As he was more accustomed to adoration from the opposite sex and not much else, the rock star was unfamiliar to being on the receiving end of such wrath from _anyone_ , _least of all,_ of the female persuasion! While the tiny brunette's fury was understandable, for some reason, he also found it somewhat endearing, and _intriguing_.

"You know _Fräulein_ , you're rather cute when you're mad," he grinned, attempting to further crank up the charm. "This certainly was not an intentional occurrence. I was bumped from behind and lost my balance… Can we not find _some way_ to put this behind us?" He leaned forward and lowered his voice an octave as he affixed her with his most sultry stare. "Perhaps I could further pique your interest if I were to offer you a more _private concert_ sometime, _ja_?"

Ema stared at him, her unmitigated rage temporarily subsiding as her lips parted in shock.

**_What the ever-loving titty-fucking hell?_ ** _Is this **glimmerous fop** seriously trying to now **hit** on me?!_

"Are you for _real?!"_ Her voice was shaking with barely suppressed anger as her fury doubled over. "Or do you merely have the emotional range of a w _atercress sandwich_ , you - you _glimmerous fop_!"

The man reeled back, as though she had physically struck him – which Ema had to admit she was _almost_ tempted to do by this point! – but she at least had the satisfaction of seeing a hint of surprise and even, unless her mind was playing tricks on her, some _hurt_ , in the azure eyes at her response.

"Please forgive my grossly delayed apology, _Fräulein_ ," he responded, rather humbly. "Since you're evidently not a Gavinners fan, feel free to disregard that offer, but at least allow me to replace your drinks."

Before the appearance of _the bimbo_ , Ema would've _considered_ taking him up on the drink offer, and even accepted his apology, but that was _before_ she saw what a _pompous, shallow, prick_ he was, and one who was easily swayed by _flash_ over _substance!_

"Argh! Just forget it!" She seethed through gritted teeth. "As for your _concert_ … _Private or otherwise_ … You _know_ _exactly where_ you can _shove that electric guitar_ of yours!"

Without waiting for an answer this time, she spun on her heel and stomped away back into the crowd, not realizing until she reached her sister's table that she was carrying two shooter and two drink glasses which, thanks to the collision with the clumsy clod/wannabe rock God, were now each only _a quarter full!_

Lana paused in the middle of her laughing conversation with her girlfriends and regarded her sister's newly decorated, pink-splotched lab coat, irate face, and nearly empty glasses with an expression of amused concern.

"Couldn't wait to get back here before you started quenching your thirst, Ema?" The future bride quipped. "What took you so long?"

Ema glowered at her sister, and Lana let out a gasp of dismay.

"Oh my gosh, Ema! What the _hell_ happened to your lab coat?!"

"A _glimmerous fop_ from some _wannabe boy band_ is what happened!" Ema scowled, slapping the glasses down onto the table with a groan. "His clumsy clod self bumped into me and made me spill my drinks – and then instead of _apologizing_ _right away_ , I had to stand there and endure him flirting with some _slutty_ , _red-headed groupie_! I'm so sorry to return empty-handed, Lana."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, don't apologize!" Lana waved her hand dismissively. "Lissianna and I can go to the bar, honey. Why don't you hightail it to the bathroom and see if you can get those splotches off before they turn into permanent stains?"

"Good idea…" Ema's words faltered as a drop-dead gorgeous blonde waitress, who looked like a younger Pamela Anderson's doppelgänger (and whose _impressive bust_ put even _Candi's_ mammoth twin peaks to _shame_!) came by that moment, and placed four tall shot glasses on their table.

Ema stared at the buxom beauty.

_Oh shit! I **think** I **may** be **a little gay** now...!_

"Four Mind Eraser shooters for y'all!" The bombshell drawled with a sunny smile. "Enjoy!"

"Thanks, but we didn't order these," Lana stated, looking confused.

"Drink up! There's one for each of ya ladies. They're courtesy of some fella named Peter Stroker who just got engaged tonight to some Anita Lai dame," the waitress explained in her sultry Southern twang. "He's celebrating by buying a Mind Eraser shot for everyone in the bar tonight _. Cheers!"_

And she sauntered away.

"I don't know about _you,_ but I know _I_ need one of these _desperately_!" Ema declared and tossed back her shot without a moment's hesitation. "I wish I could _mind erase_ this _entire night_ already!"

"Cheer up, kiddo," Lana coaxed, putting a cajoling hand on her sister's arm. "This is supposed to be a fun girl's night out! Don't let some klutzy idiot ruin it for you!"

"You're right, Sis." Ema sighed, and then beamed at Lana. "I am not going to let that glimmerous fop completely ruin my mood and rain on your parade! I'm going to go head to the bathroom right now and see what I can do to salvage this coat!"

"You go do that, sweet girl! Come on, Lissi…Aurora can hold down the fort here at the table to make sure no one swipes it while we head over to the bar…" The rest of Lana's sentence suddenly died on her lips, and her pretty face turned ashen as she suddenly saw something over Ema's shoulder that made her eyes nearly bug out of her head.

"I changed my mind." The elder Skye sibling quickly turned her head away and grabbed her purse. "Also, I've been _inspired_ to order my next cocktail! Lissi, would you mind getting the drinks? I'll have two _Red-Headed Sluts_! In the meantime, I'm going to go outside for a cigarette with Aurora, _right now_."

"Knights of Columbus!" Ema gaped at her sister, completely thunderstruck. "Lana, you don't smoke!"

"It's a habit I picked up recently," her sister retorted flippantly, turning to grab Aurora by the arm and all the yanking her friend out of her seat. "It's something I tend to do when I'm drinking."

"Since _when?!"_ The scientist demanded.

"Since I got out of prison if you must know!" The former Chief Prosecutor snapped. "Now this is _my_ party, and I will have a fucking cigarette if I want to! So butt out, Ema!"

The younger Skye blinked, completely stunned by her sister's harsh tone, but wisely said nothing. As Lana and Aurora headed towards the back exit to the outside patio, she turned to follow Lissianna towards the bar, which was also in the general direction of the bathroom.

That was when she spotted, in the far corner, on the other side of the bar, _Phoenix Wright, Dick Gumshoe, and Miles Edgeworth_! They were seated at a table for six, with two vacant seats that had two purses hanging from then, along with some other, lanky guy Ema didn't know, who had gravity-defying hair and a goatee. She felt a jolt of simultaneous astonishment and pleasure.

 _What a small world!_ She thought jubilantly. _I need to go pass by after I've cleaned up! I can't have the sexy Prosecutor Edgeworth seeing me look like such a complete slob! Wait - didn't Lana **see** them too, since she was **facing** in this direction?! Why wouldn't she want to go say hi to them?! After all, they're our friends!_

"Lana, wait!" Ema called to her sister's retreating form. "Didn't you see who was here at the bar? Detective Gumshoe, Phoenix Wright, and Miles Edgeworth! Aren't you going to go say hello to them, first?"

Lana halted, but only for a moment, and gave a strained smile.

"Oh, are they? I _didn't even notice_!" She replied, her normally level voice sounding strangely high. "Yes well, that's very nice, but I'm sure I'll bump into Phoenix and, um, _Miles,_ a bit later on tonight. After all, it's still early, and I'm sure they're _not going anywhere_!"

Ema scrutinized her sister's inexplicably flustered face, which for the life of her; she couldn't comprehend in the _least_! After all, she and Lana owed Phoenix _everything,_ and the dreamy Prosecutor Edgeworth had been Lana's _subordinate,_ who had _worked under her for years,_ and was _no stranger_ to either one of them!

"I'm off to have that cigarette now," Lana announced, turning back around and hastily rushing to follow Aurora outside. "You better take care of those stains before they set in, little sister!"

Ema shook her head with confusion as she headed towards the ladies' room, still completely flummoxed by her sister's bizarre behavior.

_Why in God's name would my **non-smoking** sister mysteriously prefer to give herself lung cancer rather than greet a couple of hunky as hell Ace Attorneys?!_

* * *

**_Ema Skye and Dick Gumshoe_**  
 _Criminal Affairs Department  
_ February 1, 2026, 9:00 AM

"Welcome back to Los Angeles, pal!" Gumshoe rose from his desk when the sullen Ema entered and enfolded her into a warm embrace. "Look at you, all grown up now! It is such a pleasure to see you again after so long, Ema!" He released her and smiled broadly at the pensive-looking young he'd known as a bubbly teen. "Or would you rather I call you… _Detective Skye_?"

 _I wish you were calling me **Forensic Scientist, Ema Skye**!_ She thought miserably, blinking back the tears of disappointment that were prickling behind her eyelids.

She hated herself for them, as she'd now had more than a year to get over the devastating news. Regardless, it still felt like a sucker punch every time she heard the title of the new job that her sister's influence had alternately gotten her instead as _the world's shittiest consolation prize._ It was little comfort to know that she had "come close, but no cigar" with regards to passing the final forensics examination, which had resulted in a _complete turnabout_ in her career path. As a result of her lousy fate, she'd spent nearly a year in New England, training for this new job which although had been _Lana's_ legacy, was _the furthest thing possible_ from what _Ema_ had desired to do with the rest of her life!

Los Angeles Police Detective. Otherwise known as the career she had _never_ wanted.

However, she supposed she should be grateful for the fact that as the Chief of police, she was at least working alongside an old and dear friend, one whom she knew had pulled strings to get her into his particular precinct. Still, Ema was only human, and at times still couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with bitter resentment at the unfairness of her plight, even if it meant she was finally _back at home_.

_Home sweet hell._

"It's great to see you too, Chief." She forced herself to smile at the kind of man whom she'd adored as a teenager. "I guess you can call me whatever you want – after all, you're my boss now, right?"

"On paper, I suppose I technically am," Gumshoe chuckled good-naturedly, then his expression grew somber for a moment as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ema, I'm truly sorry about the test. Believe you me, I've been inquiring on your behalf regularly! You have to know that I'd be _the first one_ to tell you to go take that blasted thing again _in a heartbeat_ if _we had a place for you._ Unfortunately, there are absolutely _no free openings_ in the LAPD for another forensic scientist."

"Thanks for the update, Chief," Ema replied numbly, looking down at the floor. "I appreciate the sentiment, but it's OK." She swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. "After all, you can't always get what you want, right?"

"Buck up, kiddo," he said quietly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "I know this wasn't your first choice, but _I_ for one, am delighted to have you not only on my team but back here in the States, where you belong. And I'm sure not the only one who's eager to welcome you aboard on your first day. In fact, how about I introduce you to your "other boss"…that is, your _partner in crime_? Prosecutor Gavin specifically made the trip down from the Prosecutor's Office to have a meet and greet with you, but he just stepped out to the cafeteria to grab a coffee. He should be back any minute…"

"And here I am, Chief Gumshoe." An unknown, yet somehow, _eerily familiar_ man's tone suddenly was heard, coming from right behind Ema.

"Prosecutor Gavin, I'm glad you're here!" Gumshoe boomed, a broad grin on his face. "I'd like you to meet your new partner, Detective Ema Skye."

"Greetings, _Fräulein_ Detective." The German-accented voice intoned pleasantly, causing an eerie sense of déjà vu to come over the LAPD's newest hire. She whirled around at the sound, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked at _the instantly recognizable_ mien of the man to whom she would now be a subordinate, her lips frozen open in a soundless gasp.

It was the same _glimmerous fop_ from seven years ago at The Borscht Bowl Club! While his flaxen hair was now worn in a long braid, and he'd swapped his violet shirt for a black one, and now wore a plum-colored blazer over it, Ema would've known that obnoxious, blingy, oversized silver G-pendant and knowing, smarmy smirking mug anywhere!

The worst part of all was there it was _not even an **iota** of recognition_ on that _irksome, self-satisfied mug_ of his _whatsoever_ as he smilingly extended a bronze, well-manicured hand towards the stupefied Detective, his cordial expression entirely one that indicated **_she_** was naught but _a total stranger_ to **_him_**!

"Detective Skye, I've heard so much about you." A blinding white smile, which the cop positively  
itched to slap right off that smarmy, pretty-boy kisser! "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Ema felt her blood pressure already rising as she, at last, found her voice.

"Holy Shiitake Mushrooms! You've _got_ to be kidding me!"


	112. Fallen Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The people who are meant to be in your life will always gravitate towards you no matter how far they wander."

**_Thalassa Gramarye_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage  
_ August 8, 2005

He was so beautiful.

The young woman lightly traced her fingertips over her baby boy's perfect rosebud lips and round pink cheeks, trying to memorize his cherubic features. He was sleeping peacefully now, and although she would have loved to have seen his inquisitive brown eyes look up at her one last time, she didn't want to disturb him from his peaceful slumber.

Her infant son had such huge, expressive, constantly smiling orbs. They were such a unique colour, a mix of cinnamon and chestnut, with a ring of gold encircling inside his iris, adding another layer to the already luminous depths. So big and beautiful, so much emotion held inside. She was almost grateful for the fact that she didn't have to face those loving, magnificent eyes this final time, for they would have been her undoing.

Although the baby had just turned a year old the day before, the newly widowed teen found he _already_ had _quite_ the set of pipes on him – no doubts his cries would wake up all the other tots at the children's shelter, which was where she would be bidding adieu to her son for the last time.

Her heart was heavy with regret. A baby didn't deserve such a fate; not knowing who had brought him into this world, and wondering why his Mommy didn't want him.

He had no way of knowing Mommy had wanted him more than the air she breathed. But her choices had been cruelly snatched from her, just as her husband had.

The tears were coming again.

"Please forgive me, Apollo," she whispered, the warm, sorrowful droplets rolling down her cheeks and splashing onto the blue blanket that was wrapped around him. "I'm hardly 18 … what life can I provide for you with no husband and no money?"

She pressed one last kiss onto his sweet-smelling forehead before she turned away from the woman at the front, nearly blinded by her tears. She prayed to God that life would offer her sweet boy everything she couldn't right now: a place to belong, a family that would love and provide for him, and could give him a brighter, happier future, so he would grow up into a man she would be proud to call her son.

Someday, if the good Lord had any mercy on her, she would be reunited with him again. That bracelet she'd given him to remember her by would not only help him, but it would be proof of their bond. The one tangible tie that bound him to her.

_Your father is gone, and mine won't let me keep you if I'm to go back performing for him, that selfish, heartless monster. I hope someday I can find it in my heart to forgive him for forcing me to make this choice, just as I hope someday, you will find it in yours to forgive me._

Her tears had dried now.

But Thalassa Gramarye's soul still wept.

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice and Clay Terran_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage_  
October 11, 2016, 4:10 PM

"Hey Apollo, you feeling any better?" 12-year-old Clay Terran burst into his best friend's room the moment he got back from school. He found his spiky-fringed friend sitting up in bed and appear to be hacking up a lung while attempting to snip something out of the newspaper spread out on his lap.

The horn-haired youth held up a hand, signaling the other boy to wait a moment. Then he reached for a drink of water from his bedside stand before rasping out his reply.

"I'm fine!" He croaked, before collapsing, downright winded, back against the pillows and smiling faintly as he reached out for the collection of notebooks and papers the dark-haired boy handed him, as he'd been kindly picking up Apollo's assignments and homework from his teachers while he had been homesick the last few days.

"You sound like one of Wanda's flea-bitten felines, _hacking up a fur ball!"_ Clay joked, coming over and taking a seat at the foot of the bed, then protectively pulling up the neck of his turtleneck over his nose and mouth like a makeshift mask. "Do me a favor, and _cover that mouth of yours_! I don't need to catch your _nasty germ-burgers_ , man! I've never seen you this sick – and I sure don't want to have whatever it is you've got! Not when the school dance is next week!"

"I'm sure I'll be better by then!" Apollo wheezed, taking another sip of water, and then successfully clipping out the desired news article and carefully placing it on to his bedside table. "Have you decided who you're going to ask to be your date to the dance yet?"

"I'm still contemplating between _two lucky ladies_ ," the middle-school Casanova-in-training drawled, tapping his chin in mock contemplation, even though his dark eyes were glittering with amusement. "So far I've narrowed it down to Philippa Bird and Polly Graf. They're _both_ all kinds of cute, and they _both_ seem to like me… Which is what makes this _so_ hard! Do I pick perky, girl-next-door, blonde Betty Cooper, aka Ms. Bird, or the stylish, sophisticated, raven-haired Veronica Lodge, otherwise known as Ms. Graf? Dilemma, dilemma. Now I know how Archie Andrews feels!"

"I _wish_ I knew how it felt to be able to relate to the girl troubles of a comic book character!" Apollo attempted to laugh at his friend's cheeky wit, but unfortunately, due to the nasty flu bug that had had him knocked him flat on his ass, it sounded more like a death rattle. " _Must_ you be such a colossal flirt, Clay? There's only _so_ much of you to go around, after all! The way you've got all these the girls worked up and chasing after you, you're going to leave an endless trail of broken hearts behind in your wake before you even hit high school!"

"I do nothing in particular to encourage them, nor have I committed to _any_ of their requests to be their boyfriend!" Clay shrugged and flashed the same shit-eating grin that made all the middle school girls in their junior high become instantly smitten at first sight. "School is a place to study and make friends, and any _persons of interest_ are strictly for extracurricular activity only! Dance is a prime example of such a thing. Now, Boy Wonder, since you're the smart one of the two of us, help me make the wise decision about who shall be the Ginger Rogers to my Fred Astaire?"

"What makes you think I can be of any assistance here?" Apollo asked wryly. "As far as experience with the opposite sex goes, _you_ have already made out with half the girls in school, whereas _I_ have only kissed _two,_ and _both_ were during a game of spin the bottle at Lucinda Head's birthday party last week!"

"I'm asking you, Apollo, because I'm the looks, and you're the brains of our operation!" Clay informed him, a mischievous twinkle in his eye now. "By the way, said the scatter-brained girl from Alaska keeps persistently asking me about your well-being, you know. She wishes to convey to you that she hopes you get well soon and that her dance card, thus far, remains open if you happen to still be looking for a date for the dance…Assuming she doesn't succumb to the same dreaded kissing disease she has convinced herself that you are suffering from, and is still frightful you could have passed onto her?"

"Lucinda is kind of cute, even if she is all over the place," Apollo admitted, blushing slightly. "I've always had a soft spot for redheads! But please let her know, for the gazillionth time, that I have the flu and not mononucleosis, and having kissed her last week, if I did, by now, she'd know!"

"It's a ridiculous rumor," Clay concurred. "There's no merit to it whatsoever, and I have no idea how it started at all! I mean, I'm your _bunkmate_ here – surely if you had such a contagious ailment, _I_ would have it by now as well!"

"No kidding!" Apollo frowned at the outlandish accusation. "I have no doubt we can thank your dumb crush, Polly Graf, for putting such an idiotic idea into Lucinda's mind in the first place! That should be an indicator to you right now about which girl you should be hanging out with, Clay! While I've always found Philippa Bird to be a rather nasty, confrontational young lady, that loud-mouthed Polly Graf is nothing but a persistent liar! Lucinda should know by now that you can never believe anything that shit-disturbing windbag ever says!"

"Look who's talking about being a loudmouth!" Clay quipped, causing him to be subjected to the mother of all withering glares. "Kidding! Even though this is the world's most hilarious case of the pot calling the kettle black, thank you kindly for that insightful pearl of wisdom, my good man!"

The pre-teen then looked over with curiosity at the news clipping his friend had put aside.

"What was it that you were just tearing off the newspaper… Or should I even bother asking?" A knowing smile played on his lips.

"Yep, it's another article about _him_!" Apollo plucked the article off the night table and waved it proudly, as though presenting a blue ribbon at the county fair, his eyes sparkling animatedly despite his sickly pallor. "This Phoenix Wright...he just keeps making the headlines, Clay! Just two months ago, he was in the papers because he won his very first case, which was a murder trial defending his best friend, against alleged 'Rookie Killer' Winston Payne! He mopped the floor with that clown!"

Apollo still remembered the date August 3, 2016, just as clearly as he recalled his awed amazement at the details of the story. It had been the court debut of the greenhorn defense attorney of Fey & Co. Law Offices, in the murder trial of Cindy Stone, an up-and-coming model, defending his childhood friend, Larry Butz. At first, the case had looked hopeless. Larry had had evidence and testimony stacked against him, yet Phoenix was able to turn everything around and pin the crime on the _hell toupee_ witness, Frank Sahwit, otherwise known as Frank _Dunnit!_

The spiky-haired man had managed to deliver his defense flawlessly and with admirable confidence. That was when Apollo had been first exposed, both in the papers, and later, by TV reporters, to the detailed recap of the lawyer's would-be infamous bluffing tactics – an unorthodox, albeit slightly questionable, technique, but it was different and Apollo found it to be a fascinating blend of both cunningly inspired and charmingly offbeat. The young rookie had risen the ranks and popularity charts, as well as posed as a common feature on the front page of various publications, affectionately dubbed by the media and public alike as 'The King of the Turnabout.'

"You have got a serious _man-crush_ on this Phoenix Wright guy don't you, Apollo?" Clay teased, plucking the article from his friend's fingers and studying it with interest.

"Oh come on, don't make me sound like a lame-ass fanboy!" Apollo scowled, and then relaxed when he saw that his friend was merely yanking his chain, as usual! "The man just _inspires_ me, Clay! Barely a month after his first courtroom victory, Phoenix Wright was left to fend for himself when his mentor, the legendary Mia Fey, was tragically murdered! But despite that, he went and did it _again_ , this time as avenging his late mentor, while rescuing her baby sister, Maya, from execution due to false _sororicide_ allegation charges _and indicting_ the true killer! And his second triumph was over veteran prodigal prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth!"

"I've heard of him. Wright crushed Edgeworth's longstanding perfect winning streak too, didn't he?" Clay recollected. "I admit, _that_ was even _more_ impressive than beating that talking hairpiece, Payne."

"So can you blame me for being so enthusiastic about the guy? He's _everything_ I want to be, you know? Don't you remember how blown away _you_ were when we first visited the Cosmos Space Center and you met Solomon Starbuck?"

 _"Touché!_ Spoken like a true defense attorney in training indeed! So, shall I pin this to your bulletin board, along with the copious _other_ Phoenix Wright associated items you've already tacked on there?"

Apollo nodded, and the darker haired boy walked across the room, put a thumbtack through the paper, and stuck it onto the board, which had various photos of Phoenix, some from newspapers, some printed from the Internet, news articles mentioning the up-and-coming Ace Attorney, and even the takeout menus of a local hamburger joint and Mr. Eldoon's noodle stand. Clay didn't bother asking about the restaurant items. He didn't want to know about the full depths of his friend's _fanboying_!

"Did you see that headline this time?" Apollo prompted eagerly. " _King of the Turnabout Strikes Again! Exonerates The Steel Samurai From Clutches of The Evil Magistrate!_ He's gone _Hollywood_ now, can you _believe_ it?! This man is _already_ on his way to becoming a _legal legend_ just like his mentor, Mia Fey! And he's not even _that_ much older than _we_ are!"

"Pretty remarkable, having done all this, and he's only 24," Clay agreed. "Although I still insist part of his allure for you is the fact that you both appear to have gravity-defying spikes, although his are in the back of his head, whereas your horns are in the front! Tell me, if you ever met Phoenix Wright, would you ask him what hair products he uses to make his hair always look so wind resistant?"

"Very funny, wise-ass!" Apollo hurled his pillow at his friend in mock anger, which Clay laughingly caught with ease. "Gosh, Clay…If I ever _met_ Phoenix Wright, I don't think I'd even be capable of _speech_! I would probably go into _cardiac arrest_!"

"Yep, definitely a man crush, with a side of possibly the world's most adorable hero worship," Clay decided, his dark orbs brimming with barely suppressed mirth. "I've decided that I find it charming!"

"Call it whatever you want, but this man - he makes me want to be just like him when I grow up! He's such a good guy that he takes a lot of his cases, pro bono because he doesn't do it for the money!" Apollo's face glowed as he spoke of the man he so revered. "He genuinely cares about justice, and standing up for the little guy… you know… kind of like the defender of the innocent, and a champion against all bullies! The world needs more people like that! Moreover, I want to become one of those people!"

"Not too many middle school kids have this kind of certainty about their life paths, this early in the game," Clay noted, appearing quite moved by his friend's impassioned speech. "But if Phoenix Wright is the man that has helped you already determine your destiny, Apollo, then I'm gonna be right by your side, cheering for you, every step of the way."

He flashed an indulgent smile and turned to leave the room.

"I'm gonna go tell Wanda that you're still too sick to help out with dinner preparation tonight, and am taking over your roster for you until you're better."

"That's so nice of you Clay, but I'm _fine_!" Apollo insisted, even as his thin body was suddenly seized by another bout of coughing. "I can't have our housemother think I'm shirking my duties, just because I have a little cold!"

"A little cold?" Clay laughed and shook his head. "You, my friend, are walking infested contagion of gross magnitude, and there's no way I am letting your germy ass be within 500 yards near any type of food that I am ingesting! Can you imagine if I came down with whatever the heck it is you've got? It would be pretty hard to squelch the wacky mono rumors at school then, wouldn't it!"

Apollo hurled another pillow at Clay's retreating form, managing to make his mark this time right before the laughing future astronaut made it out the door.

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice and Clay Terran_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage_  
December 26, 2016, 9:50 AM

" _Apollo_!" Wanda Round's shrill voice sounded at the door of the recreation room where the Phoenix fan and Clay had been watching television. "I need your help tidying up the place! The social services worker will be arriving here within an hour to inspect the premises and make sure that everything is kosher, so I need to ensure everything here is on the up and up!"

"But I just managed to wrestle the TV away from the other kids, who've been hogging it for the past fortnight watching Christmas specials!" Apollo turned to the orphanage housemother with his most beseeching puppy dog eyes. "Could this possibly wait maybe 10 or 15 minutes, please?! This is the first-ever televised trial of defense attorney Phoenix Wright of Wright & Co. Law Offices! On live TV! He's squaring off against the legendary Manfred Von Karma, who has had a 40-year undefeated prosecution record, in the case of the latter's adopted son, Miles Edgeworth, being on trial for a murder that occurred on Christmas Day!"

"Rules are rules, Apollo." Unmoved by his plea, Wanda Round waved her finger sternly at him, causing the loose flab from her upper arms to sway jiggle like a bowl full of jelly. "We have a _regularly scheduled roster_ for a _reason_ , and I keep this place in disciplined working order by making sure that chore schedule is followed _religiously_! Now, stop your bellyaching! You oughta know it is _your_ turn to help me with the housecleaning. No exceptions, as I have to treat everybody equally."

Apollo's disheartened countenance was gut-wrenching, and Clay immediately shot up off the sofa and affixed the housemother with his own pleading expression.

"Ms. Rounds, please _have a heart_! This attorney is his _idol_ and he's been following his entire career for some time now! _I'll_ go help you clean up, so can't you just let him watch this? It'd mean the world to him to see his hero in action! It's only the day after Noël; do you not still have even the _slightest trace_ of the Christmas spirit left within you to extend _some_ goodwill to your fellow men?"

Any other human being at this point would have felt at least _some_ ounce of compassion by now and granted what was truly such a small favor, coming from not _one,_ but _two_ orphans in their care, but the persuasions were wholly wasted on the aptly named, _very round_ (but nowhere near _jolly_!) Wanda Rounds. The stoic spinster, who although well aware of Apollo's newfound dedication to both following law as his own path, as well as Phoenix Wright's illustrious career, could simply not fathom such determined devotion at such a young age. This was probably because, as she had constantly told her wards, despite being a college graduate and world traveler, _she_ had never quite _found herself_!

 _Or_ a _man_ , of _any sort_ , despite the sad fact that she was now pushing _50!_

Apollo bitterly surmised that Wanda's solo status was probably because the behemoth's only devotion was to her dozen shedding cats, (which swarmed around the place and constantly made him sneeze!), and her incessant bonbon consumption! The gluttony for the sweets that helped maintain the fact that Wanda had more rolls than a bakery was only rivaled by her addiction to sleazy daytime talk shows, all featuring degenerate people with surprisingly greater rotund physiques than herself, whose life paths consistently entailed spinning the Wheel Of Father in the incessant game of Who's the Daddy!

Entirely unmoved by both boys' words, Wanda shook her head, the action making the numerous jowls on her pudding-like face quiver like a Jell-O mould.

"Sorry Clay, I already had you take over his duties a few months ago when he was sick, but like I said, _rules are rules_. And you boys should know by now that Ms. Bea Verhunt from Children's Services is an even bigger stickler of order and rules than _I_ am. It won't do to have this place not be in proper order. Come on Apollo let's go." Seeing the crestfallen look on his face as he dismally rose from the sofa, her tone softened marginally. "Look, Apollo, if the court case is _such_ a big deal, I'm certain they'll air it again in reruns later today, all right? And I'll make sure the TV is yours the rest of the day, post-cleanup."

 _Re-runs?!_ Apollo silently screamed, feeling tears of disappointment burning his eyes. _This isn't one of your trashy soap operas, you heartless, nasty… Stay Puft Marshmallow Woman!_

"Sorry pal," Clay murmured as the dejected youth trudged past him. "Hell, I tried."

"Thanks anyway," he mumbled miserably, then slunk out of the room in Wanda's thundering footsteps

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice and Clay Terran_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage_  
December 29, 2016, 12:30 PM

"How they hangin'?" Clay greeted his roommate cheerfully as he strolled into the boys' room, carrying a paper bag in his hands. "We missed you downstairs at lunch. Not that it was anything special – just tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which Wanda had no problem scarfing down your share of since you didn't make an appearance at the lunch table."

"I don't care. I'm not hungry." Apollo replied glumly from his desk, where he sat before three days' worth of newspapers, reading the press coverage of his idol's three-day trial, which he had been forced to miss.

The news articles gave great, in-depth detail of the televised trial, but Apollo was still inconsolable, as it certainly wasn't the same as actually _seeing and hearing_ his hero in action! _Especially_ since it'd turned out to be such an _explosive_ court case! Not only had Phoenix and his assistant, Maya Fey, solved the mysterious 15-year-old DL-6 case, but he'd also successfully _twice absolved_ his friend, Miles Edgeworth, from _two_ murder charges! Not only that but in doing so, the blue attorney had shockingly revealed, then helped convict his old friend's adopted father, Manfred Von Karma as the diabolical mastermind behind _both_ situations!

When he had cruelly and unfairly been unable to catch the first day of the trial on television, Apollo had refused to be appeased by the fact that while it had _not_ rerun later that evening, as Wanda had suggested it might, the trial _had_ ended up being televised for the next couple of days afterward. But to him, viewing _days two and three,_ after missing the premier one, would've been the equivalent of watching the _second part of a trilogy_ before seeing the _first!_ Therefore _,_ he hadn't bothered whatsoever and had instead holed himself up in his room, in a depressed and gloomy state, ever since.

"I'm sorry, Apollo." Clay eyed him sympathetically. "You're still pretty bummed about missing the trial, aren't you?"

"Well, do you blame me?" Apollo burst out. "It's just so _unjust_ , Clay! There is truly no _justice_ in this world – I don't ask for _much_ in life! And _this_ …it makes me feel like I'm just doomed to be this eternally _deprived underdog_ , who's never allowed just that _brief snapshot_ of happiness, which so many others take for granted, you know?"

"Buck up, cupcake." Clay walked over and lightly punched his friend in the arm. "Speaking of which, you're my best friend, and I _cannot_ have you withering away in despair while a New Year beckons us. Therefore, I managed to slip you an _actual cupcake_ away from Wanda's greedy paws, as well as an apple." He produced the two food items from the paper bag with a grand sweeping motion and set them down on the desk. "I'm sorry it's not much, but it's better than nothing. And dinner isn't until 5:00."

Apollo's stomach growled uncomfortably at the sight of the enormous chocolate frosted cupcake. While he didn't normally have much of a sweet tooth, it suddenly looked like the most scrumptious food in the entire world. And never before had a mere apple look so luscious.

"This was so great of you, Clay. Thank you." He demolished both items in record time and smiled at his _brother from another mother_. "You're the best."

"Save that sentiment for later!" The astronaut grinned. "Normally dessert isn't so decadent in this joint, but those were specially delivered cupcakes from some gourmet bakery, courtesy of Children's Services, as a late Christmas/early New Year's gift. The Iron Lady social worker was very impressed at the spotlessness of the house during her visit. You must've channeled your rage that day with some serious elbow grease! She had never seen the toilets so clean! You're a natural with that cleaning brush, Apollo!"

"Thanks, a heap, Clay," Apollo replied dryly. "I'm sure that being ashrewd toilet scrubber  
will be a big help down the line with my future career path! I'll ensure I put that on my job résumé!" He studied his friend, who was still grinning from ear to ear, and felt a slight twinge of suspicion. _"Hold it!_ What did you mean by: _save that sentiment for later?"_

"Nothing much," the dark-haired boy responded innocently, his dark eyes dancing. "It's just that I didn't feel it would be right to accept my "best friend in the whole wide world" trophy over the simple delivery of a meager desert and piece of fruit to his justifiably desolate buddy. I figured I would more readily accept those words after you look at what's in the bag."

Apollo regarded his friend strangely as he reached for the proffered item and stuck his hand inside, pulling out three VHS tapes. Two of them were brand-new, but one of them had a label on it, which had been hastily crossed out with a sharpie marker, and ' _Phoenix Wright: 1 st Televised Trial Day One'_ was written over the previous title, which had read ' _Clay Terran's First Little League Game_ '.

"Clay…" Apollo felt his mouth go dry as he regarded the three tapes, the other two bearing the labels, ' _Phoenix Wright: 1st Televised Trial Day Two_ ' and ' _Phoenix Wright: 1st Televised Trial Day Three'_. "Is _this_ really what I _think_ it is?"

"Oh, do you mean is it the fully recorded, first-time televised, three-day trial of your legal idol?" Clay asked breezily, his lips curling up into a smirk at his best friend's dumbfounded expression. "Otherwise known as your Christmas gift? Yeah, I guess you could say it is …exactly that!"

"I – I can't believe you _did_ this!" Apollo stammered, feeling a lump growing in his throat. "Did you seriously tape over _your own Little League game_?! That your late _mom_ must have recorded?!"

"Don't sweat it," Clay shrugged, smiling reassuringly and patting his friend in the shoulder. "The memory of my first Little League home run is always going to be in my heart, but seeing your reaction to _this_ is even _more_ priceless."

"B – but Clay…" Apollo felt the same stinging sensation behind his eyelids he'd that day with his housemother, only this time for a different reason. "H – How did you even manage to _do_ this?"

"When that _soulless manatee_ dragged you away from the TV the other day, I had to get creative, and fast, because I didn't have any blank tapes handy, and the trial was about to start! That one was the first one I found when I rushed back to our room. After that, I called Rhonda and managed to sweet-talk her into giving me a couple of blank VHS tapes she had at her house so that I could record the next couple of days."

Clay beamed proudly at his admittedly innovative actions.

"I can now add 'knows how to program a VCR while the other kids can still watch their favorite shows on the TV' to my list of job résumé skills, as surely as you will be able to brag about your mad toilet cleaning skills on yours!"

_Ugh, out of all the girls in school, poor Clay had to go ask a favor from that overly **bawdy and busty femme fatale** in training!? Big Rhonda's been panting after him since kindergarten! That's the **one** girl in school he never tries to flirt with, from fear of actually **encouraging her too much**! Rhonda Blokkenbek – that's a gal who has **been around**!_

"I don't know what to say…" Apollo looked at his friend with eyes that were brimming with grateful tears. "I don't know how I am _ever_ going to thank you for this, Clay."

"Oh, I do!" The other boy laughed, shooting his friend an impish grin. "This favor I asked of the eighth-grade floozy who has been around the block if you catch my drift, does not come without a steep price! In exchange for this magnanimous gesture, I promised Rhonda that you and I would go ice-skating on a double date next weekend with her and her best friend, Honey, who thinks you're cute. I figure having the two of you there as our unofficial chaperones will be the only way I can keep that horny toad of a girl at bay!"

"I'll be too busy fending off _Honey's_ advances to be able to _willingly_ C-block _you_!" Apollo spluttered, feeling the blood draining out of his face. "Clay, I am so grateful for this, you have no idea, and God knows I owe you _big time_ but… _Honey Potts?!_ That the girl is a sweetie pie, but _she's a bit too loose with the boys,_ for _my_ liking! And possibly _more so_ than even _Rhonda_!"

"So, I've heard!" Clay conceded. "But at least _now_ you can finally stop dragging your chin across the floor, and _I_ get to see my best friend be happy! Surely, it's a small price to pay for getting the chance to see your idol in action! I mean it's _one date_! It's not like we have to _marry_ them or anything!"

"B – but…"

"No _buts_ about it, or else I'm kicking _yours_ to the _moon_ if you try to back out of this, Justice!" Clay shook his head and held up his hand to halt any more protests his friend was about to make. "Now, I'm going to check if my Little League jockstrap miraculously _still fits_! Might I suggest _you_ invest in _some_ sort of _protective, makeshift chastity belt_ for our date as well? Because I'm pretty sure the _double trouble gals_ will get pretty _handy_ and _seize the opportunity_ to go all _octopus-styles_ on us if the rumor mill about them is true!"

Apollo groaned and buried his head in his hands, his horns drooping.

_I'm doomed! The things I do for my pursuit of justice…_

* * *

**_Apollo Justice and Clay Terran_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage_  
August 7, 2018

From then on, Phoenix's subsequent trials were followed by success after success, and Apollo enthusiastically and loyally followed every single one. Despite Clay's knowledge of programming the VCR, Apollo would get so excited if he knew about a televised trial (which, since the career-ending one of Manfred Von Karma, _all_ of Phoenix's trials consecutively were!), that he would skip school on occasion just to watch the television coverage live. He was completely _star-struck_ , as well as _awestruck_ by the Ace Attorney's unwavering passion and dedication to justice! It was just so incredible to see the way the King of the Turnabout would always manage to turn even the most unfavorable cases around, make the impossible possible, and show that the underdog could emerge on top! He was truly a real-life hero and the young boy couldn't help look up to him and shamelessly be his number one fan!

Also, just when he thought he couldn't _possibly_ hold the man with any higher esteem than he already did, along came the trial with Shelly de Killer. There were many strange happenings during that case, the most prominent being Maya wasn't in her usual spot by his side, and Phoenix had seemed unusually tense throughout the trial. That had been when Apollo had realized that his hero had been willing to forego justice for friendship, and the young boy had learned that not everything was in black and white; the truth wasn't always pretty; the law had its limits, but trust went a long way. There was more to trials than winning and even though the lawyer had lost that case because he knew his client was guilty, he had still seemed happy, and despite the loss, he had still earned the name Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney.

That had been when Apollo was convinced that his hero was even more _amazeballs_ than he could have ever _dreamed_. Short of meeting the man in person, he honestly thought he had reached the highest possible pinnacle of giddiness about anything and everything regarding the defense attorney.

It turned out he was wrong.

Today was Apollo's 14th birthday. Clay had recently gotten a part-time job selling Samurai dogs at the beach and was going to treat him to burgers and a movie as his gift. Therefore, he was unprepared when, once they'd sat down in a booth at the very hamburger place that he knew Phoenix and his assistant frequently visited, (hence the menu pinned to his Phoenix Wright bulletin board), the spiky-horned teen was gobsmacked when his best friend suddenly produced a flat parcel from inside his inner jacket pocket.

"You didn't _have_ to get me _anything_ , Clay!" Apollo protested, although deeply touched by the gesture. "It's not like you make megabucks at your job! The food and the show were more than enough! You really shouldn't have!"

"Yeah, I _shouldn't_ have, but I _did_!" Clay flashed a cheeky grin and rubbed his nose. "We're going to be in high school this fall, and knowing _you_ , you probably already signed up for every available law course there possibly was! I thought maybe this would help you get a leg up so you would be at _the head of the class_."

Apollo eagerly opened the package and let out a wry chuckle at his friend's attempted rapier wit when he saw what the present was: a copy of a book that was entitled, **_Law School for Dummies_.**

" _Thanks,_ bud!" He tossed a French fry across the table as Clay started laughing. "You _really_ shouldn't have!"

"I will have you know, mocking title aside, Mr. Justice," Clay began, with a miraculously straight face. "What you're holding in your hands is the straightforward guide to surviving and thriving in law school! It uses straight talk, sound advice, and gentle humor to help students sort through the swamp of coursework and focus on what's important-all while maintaining a life. It also offers a rare insight into the law school experience for women, minorities, non-traditional, and non-Ivy League students."

"Wow, actually that sounds pretty terrific," Apollo acquiesced, flipping the book over and reading the details on the back. "I'm almost tempted to skip the movie and head straight home to crack right into this!"

"No way! I've been waiting for ages for the next installment in _The Steel Samurai_ movie series!" Clay took a long sip of his milkshake and then almost as an afterthought, added, "by the way, since you're examining every inch of that thing, you _may_ want to check out the inside cover while you're at it. That's actually where your _real_ present is."

"Huh?" Confused, Apollo flipped to the back inside of the book but saw nothing except a mini author biography. "I thought this _book_ _was_ my …" The rest of his words died in his throat as he flipped to the inside cover at the front of the book, and that was when he saw _it._

There, in barely legible, cursive writing in a manner that was typically associated with most doctors… And _lawyers_ was the following inscription:

* * *

**_Happy Birthday, Apollo!_ **

**_"Success is not attained by chance; you have to work in order to get it."  
Good luck in law school, and I hope to see you someday in court! You'll be fine!_ **

**_Best wishes,  
Phoenix Wright_ **

* * *

Apollo's jaw dropped open as he stared across the table at his best friend, who smiled smugly at his enthralled expression.

"I can finally stop lugging that blasted thing to work with me," Clay said casually, although he was beaming with pride. "I've been hauling it in my backpack every day for the past month, waiting for Mr. Wright and that _gluttonous, burger-eating assistant of his_ , to _finally_ take a break from the usual _burger chow down_ at this joint, and _finally_ make a trip to the beach for some Samurai dogs! I was gonna start stalking him at Mr. Eldoon's noodle stand – _he's_ the one that gave me the inside tip about Maya's passion for street meat, by the way, really nice guy! I was getting nervous about whether or not I could arrange an "innocuous run-in" with Mr. Wright by the time your birthday rolled around, but I _, at last,_ got lucky _yesterday_ , because the adorable little pretzel-haired girl, who's always with them lately, had a sudden yen for one, so I had my chance to _carpe diem_!"

"I can't believe you actually _met_ him!" Apollo gasped, lovingly tracing his fingertips over the inscribed message, as though trying to convince himself that it was _real_. "What can you tell me about him? What's he like?"

Clay mulled over the question for a moment while adjusting the visor on his unruly hair while his friend sat there, breathless with anticipation.

"He's very sincere…and seems very nice," the visor-wearing boy replied, at last, smiling at Apollo's captivated expression. "A lot more softer-spoken than he is on TV – for some reason I expected his tone to be at the same courtroom level, earsplitting decibel I've heard in his trials. However, when we spoke, his voice is quite pleasant, mid-range, without any distinctive accent. He seems surprisingly humble, considering his pseudo-celebrity status, and seemed _floored_ that someone wanted his _autograph_! He was only going to sign his name at first because he didn't know what to say – he seemed pretty shy, too. But then his legal assistant/girlfriend – I _swear_ there is more going on with those two than just being mere coworkers! – Started giving him hell about being such a _stodgy old fart_ and started pressuring him to say something _cool_!"

He paused his anecdote for a moment to take another long sip of his milkshake, much to Apollo's impatient chagrin.

The birthday boy forced himself to squelch his urge to shout at his friend _to hurry up and continue_ _already_ and focused on politely keeping mum while nodding encouragingly for him to go on.

"Did I mention Maya managed to yell at him through a mouthful of Samurai dog?" Clay cracked up at the memory. "Actually, it was Samurai _dogs_ … She was _double-fisting_ **_two_** of them at the time – Mr. Eldoon told me she can pack away more than an NFL linebacker – but she's so _tiny_ in person! I've no idea _where_ she puts it! Anyway, then the cute little girl, who calls him Mr. Nick, said that he should at least write _Happy Birthday_ since the book _was_ a birthday gift, and then Maya told him he should say something encouraging to a prospective future attorney, and then _I_ told him about your whole _Mr._ Fine thing…and _he_ came up with what quotation he thought would best inspire you, and _voilà_! Thus ends the story of how you have an autographed law book by the famous Phoenix Wright!" He finished the tale with a flourish, standing up from the booth and taking a mock bow at his gaping friend. "Please, hold the applause!"

There was a brief silence as the spiky-fringed teen absorbed all of this information, and stared at the boy who had been the only family he'd ever known, who had _twice_ made him happier than he had thought he'd ever be in his life and found himself utterly speechless. Then, without thinking, and uncaring that they were in public, Apollo jumped out of his seat and wordlessly wrapped his arms around his best friend, hugging him so hard that poor Clay squealed that he was being suffocated. Apollo didn't care, however, and only held on tighter, taking advantage of the opportunity so he could bury his head against the taller boy's shoulder.

He would've died of embarrassment if anyone else in the restaurant had seen that he was crying.

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice and Clay Terran_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage_  
February 10, 2019, 7:30 AM

"Wake up, Apollo!" The soon-to-be astronaut announced cheerfully, shaking his friend's slumbering form until he reluctantly woke up.

"Wahhh?" The future attorney sat up and ground his bleary eyes with his fists. "Why are you up so early, Clay? You usually don't wake up for about another half hour!" He looked over at his alarm clock and scowled. "And _I_ wasn't due to wake up for another _15 minutes_!"

"You _snooze_ , you _lose_!" 15-year-old Clay's eyes were sparkling with eagerness. "Today we are _celebrating_ , and I cannot think of anyone else I would rather celebrate _with_!" He ripped the covers off the grumbling Apollo. "I suggest you get yourself together and dressed within about 20 minutes because it's a _really_ long bus ride downtown during rush hour if you want to make it to the courthouse in time!"

 _"Huh?"_ Apollo's brain was barely registering what he was hearing. He had never really been a morning person. "Court? Why? What did you _do_?"

"Get yourself in the shower and wake yourself up!" Clay tugged at his arm. "Don't you want to make sure you're fully alert when we go see your idol in person?"

_What? My idol?!_

Apollo shot up out of bed as though he had just been injected with about a dozen shots of espresso.

"We're going to see _Phoenix Wright?_ " He yelled excitedly, suddenly uncaring about sleep entirely. "Like, _in the flesh_?!"

" _In the spikes_! You bet your ass we are! I _finally_ was able to score us a couple of tickets to see his _live trial_ , in the actual courtroom gallery!" Clay boasted. "Like I said, this is a celebratory day for me, and who better to spend it with than my best friend?" He was already fully dressed and grabbing his visor off his night table.

Apollo was already pulling a sweater over his head with one hand and yanking down his pajama bottoms with another. He halted in his actions and looked at his friend quizzically.

"What are we celebrating? It's not your birthday – that was _last week_!"

"We are celebrating the fact that even though we've both known for a while now what we want to do with the rest of our lives, as of five minutes ago, I got a phone call to make me realize that I am _one step closer_ to making my dream of being an astronaut come true!" Clay was practically bouncing on his heels with ebullience. "I _just_ got the message that Solomon Starbuck from the Cosmos Space Center has accepted my application into the early mentorship space program!"

"That's mind-blowingly awesomesauce, buddy!" Apollo fist-bumped his friend, utterly alert now. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!"

"I'm happy for _myself!"_ Clay laughed merrily. "Next week I take the first step towards the reality of becoming a spaceman, just like him! As you know, we've gotten to know Starbuck pretty well from our visits to the center and he likes me! As a belated birthday gift, he told me he could get me tickets to _anything_ I wanted – exclusive VIP movie premiere tickets, sports games, theater… but I told him I wanted tickets to see Phoenix Wright live in the courtroom, and he managed to get us two spots in the gallery for _today's_ trial and took care of all the details!"

" _Do you mean to tell me_ …" Apollo stared at his friend in amazement. "That with _your_ one birthday gift wish, you got something that _I_ would want to do, instead of something that _you_ would want to do? You're... _a saint_! How can I _ever_ thank you for this?"

"Don't worry about it, bud." Clay shrugged and waved away the thanks, which Apollo should have anticipated would be his response, yet still, even after knowing him all this time, it remained _mind-boggling_ about what kind of _steadfast, selfless, mensch_ Clay Terran was.

"Starbuck is _my_ hero, Apollo. It was written in the stars for me to meet him! And while I can't fast-forward the clock and put you through law school so you can work with Phoenix Wright as your mentor _already_ , I couldn't think of a better way to _further inspire_ the guy who I _know_ will one day take the legal world by storm!" Clay grinned and lightly punched his friend in the arm when he saw the look of intense emotion coming over Apollo's face as the magnitude of the gesture sunk in. "Hey, this no time for crying, Justice! You can weep your tears of gratitude later on the bus! The trial starts at 10:00, so we've got to get a move on!"

"I _still_ can't believe this!" Apollo swallowed back his overwhelmed tears and instead allowed his friend's emanating enthusiasm to rub off on him so that he too was feeling practically giddy with excitement. "I've been watching this trial on TV and so far, it's been _insane_! I mean, first _Miles Edgeworth_ was the defense attorney for this case, but _now_ it's Phoenix Wright?! This is going to be _off the charts_!"

"I know, _Wright_? Let's go, slowpoke!"

Apollo was dressed and washed up in record time, and the two boys all but flew out the doors to the bus stop, both soaring on wings of bliss.

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice and Clay Terran_**  
 _Trial Day 3, District Courtroom 7  
_ February 10, 2019 3:40 PM

_OK… The true culprit wasn't Iris Hawthorne… But her dead sister Dahlia?! No, wait... No not Dahlia… But Maya?!_

Apollo was literally on the edge of his seat and breathless with anticipation at all the unexpected twists and turns of this case – this was better than _any_ Phoenix Wright trial he'd ever seen on television by _far_! It made the Matterhorn at Disneyland seem like a _carousel_!

Even though he had watched his hero's trials on numerous occasions, the teen simply couldn't get enough of how his idol carried himself that day. Phoenix Wright was more than just confident; he was on fire, unstoppable, fearless. The way his jaw set in determination; eyes blazing with conviction and inherent desperation to protect his client and dear assistant; raining objection after objection on his opponent; going against all odds and at such lengths to pursue the truth, uncaring of the consequences… It was a mysterious blend of professionalism and character, an untamed passion for order and justice, and Apollo relished it. He knew every tactic, saw every involuntary twitch, felt the intensity, and involuntarily shuddered.

It was uncommon for a defense attorney to win a case, let alone find the real perpetrator. However, in the end, that was exactly what happened, and Phoenix solved the Hazakura Temple mystery when the mysterious masked prosecutor, Godot, revealed his real identity.

As always, against all odds, the King of the Turnabout had won, and Apollo Justice had been fortunate enough to bask in his hero's triumph.

In the end, he was so overcome by the tumultuous, bittersweet emotions that had been evoked within him, both by the trial itself, and seeing his idol, live in action, that this time, he was unable to suppress them, and it was with silent gratitude that he accepted the handkerchief that Clay discreetly pressed against his knuckles so he could dry his eyes.

Today had been the happiest day of Apollo Justice's life.

* * *

**_Out of the ruins_ **   
**_Out from the wreckage_ **   
**_Can't make the same mistake this time_ **   
**_We are the children_ **   
**_The last generation_ **   
**_We are the ones they left behind_ **   
**_And I wonder when we are ever gonna change_ **   
**_Living under the fear, till nothing else remains_ **

* * *

**_Looking for something_ **   
**_We can rely on_ **   
**_There's got to be something better out there_ **

* * *

**_Apollo Justice_**  
 _Acres of Love Orphanage_  
April 19, 2019

As a child in an orphanage, void of parental affection and guidance, like most kids, Apollo grew up with tales of valor and bravery. He read and heard of many heroes up against extraordinary, seemingly insurmountable challenges, victorious against all odds. The characters in his books were extraordinary men, destined for greatness, immortal; but they were only fairytales, and as he grew older and watched the happy faces of the other children being adopted, he ceased believing in them.

Then, on August 4, 2016, his 12-year-old self had had his bleak perspective in life do a complete turnabout when he'd randomly picked up the morning paper on the orphanage doorstep one fine day, and saw Phoenix Wright's photograph for the very first time. From then on, his whole universe changed.

April 19, 2019. This date would forever remain seared into his mind, as it was the day Apollo would remember that his whole world had altered yet again, but this time not for the better.

Today, Apollo had picked up the morning paper, still fresh from the exuberance of having seen his hero live in the courtroom two months prior, and had felt the world as he knew it, shatter into smithereens.

The man who he'd considered his idol had been accused of using forged evidence.

Mr. Phoenix Wright, the man who inspired his career life path, had gone from being referred to in the media as "Ace Attorney" to the "Forgin' Attorney."

Every news channel was identical.

_"Phoenix Wright, the defendant's lawyer, has not yet released a statement to the press, but if he does our station will be the first to report it…"_

The headlines were all the same as well in their accusations.

**_"Phoenix Wright, or Phoenix Wrong?"_ **

Apollo felt simultaneously dejected, heartsick, and numb. His mind felt as if lead were coursing through it instead of blood. His once sunny memories of Phoenix Wright now felt as if they were tarred; disfigured into something grotesque. Had the past three years of his life been an extensive waste of blind, misplaced faith? Completely meaningless?

He fell into great despair and holed himself up in his room, in his bed, and under the covers for the rest of the day, refusing to come down for meals or look at or speak to anyone, not even Clay. He simply wanted to be alone.

He didn't know what to believe; _whom_ to believe – or if he even _could_ believe in a Goddamn thing anymore.

He listlessly rose from his bed and walked across his darkened room, staring sightlessly at the Phoenix Wright shrine he'd been collecting over the years, posted over his desk. Half of him wanted to tear all of it into shreds; the other knew he'd indubitably fall apart if he did.

Apollo had always heard that crying was a healthy release, but had spent most of his life suppressing his tears. Now, at the sight of his collective memorabilia of the three years devoted to his fallen hero, he felt the droplets beginning to fall, for the first time in a long time. They splashed onto the cheap plywood desktop in a rain-like pattern and soon created a small puddle of tiny watermarks on the shiny surface. He simply let them fall, not once raising a hand to stop them.

_Most People think all lawyers are scum; that they're all soulless ambulance chasers who will do anything to win that not guilty verdict, no matter how unscrupulous the methods they use to do so. That was why I looked up to Phoenix Wright so much. I thought he was different. I thought **he made a difference**. Giving up on him, on my faith and trust, for all he stood for, hurts more than a knife to the gut. Why were you so stupid and naïve, Apollo?_

The dark voice in his mind taunted him.

_You thought Phoenix Wright was an honest lawyer but isn't this just proof that such a thing doesn't exist? That you wanted to go into this profession blind, without knowing what it's all about? **Corruption. Lies. The quest for fame and the almighty dollar**. Not **justice**. Not the **truth**. **Nobody** gives a damn about those trite things._

_That's not true!_ His heart cried back plaintively _. **I** care about those things! I wanted to be a lawyer for all the **right** reasons! Not **all** lawyers are bad!_

 _Name **one** that isn't then, **Pollyanna**? _The cruel inner voice jeered. _I dare you!_

" _Me_ ," he whispered fiercely, clenching his hands into fists and dropping them down onto the desk with a heavy, determined thud. "I _will_ become everything that I always looked up to _him_ for being – and _I will not_ compromise my _ethics_ or _morals,_ **_no matter what_**! I don't care if that means I remain the _sole_ **_honest_** Ace Attorney on the face of this earth! Look out world – _here comes Justice!"_

**_Love and compassion_ **   
**_Their day is coming (coming)_ **   
**_All else are castles built in the air_ **

**_And I wonder when we are ever gonna change it_ **   
**_Living under the fear 'til nothing else remains_ **

**_So what do we do with our lives_ **   
**_We leave only a mark_ **   
**_Will our story shine like a light_ **   
**_Or end in the dark_ **   
**_Give it all or nothing_ **   
**_I'm going to give it all I've got._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tina Turner - We Don't Need Another Hero


	113. Badd To The Bone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Risin' up, back on the street  
> Did my time, took my chances  
> Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet  
> Just a man and his will to survive
> 
> So many times, it happens too fast  
> You trade your passion for glory  
> Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past  
> You must fight just to keep them alive
> 
> It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight  
> Risin' up to the challenge of our rival  
> And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night  
> And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger
> 
> Face to face, out in the heat  
> Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry  
> They stack the odds 'til we take to the street  
> For the kill with the skill to survive
> 
> It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight  
> Risin' up to the challenge of our rival  
> And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night  
> And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger
> 
> Risin' up, straight to the top  
> Had the guts, got the glory  
> Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop  
> Just a man and his will to survive
> 
> It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight  
> Risin' up to the challenge of our rival  
> And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night  
> And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger
> 
> The eye of the tiger  
> The eye of the tiger  
> The eye of the tiger  
> The eye of the tiger

**_Kay Faraday and Shi-Long Lang_**  
 _Kubija Hotell-Loodusspaa, Borginia_  
November 12, 2025, 3:20 AM

Shi-Long Lang had never viewed himself as an overly complex man. Overall, both in and out of the workplace, while no Nobel prize-worthy saint, he was hardly a right bastard or a ninnyhammer either. In fact, despite being generally loud, aggressive, and always determined to do things his own way (even defying other authority figures in the past in his dedication to chasing down his target) he thought the good at least balanced, if not entirely outweighed, the bad. After all, that very same strong-willed, tenacious nature also resulted in him sharing a strong bond of mutual loyalty and respect with all of his subordinates, making him fiercely protective of them, nearly to a fault. It was a fact he readily accepted and never regretted, even though he'd been burned for it previously – and still had the gunshot wound in his leg to prove it!

For all his adult life, the Wolf Man had lived with the desire to keep the representation of the Lang family name one his late father would have been proud of, while revering the acumens of Lang Zi, such as: _"One should always know one's place in life."_ On occasion, he was known to add his personalized pearls of wisdom to adhere to and dispense to others as well: " _Never let the enemy know they have you on the run, and sometimes run when it isn't necessary –always best to keep them guessing."_

The Interpol Agent had also never been a man to admit willingly to fear. It was part of his creed, having been the leader of the pack for so long. For as long as he could remember, he'd prided himself on keeping a calm disposition, even if being reduced to a level that would induce paralysis in others. He was the Alpha male, remaining cautious and cool at all times. Even in the face of danger or adversity, he'd still smile and never quicken his pace. Neither panic nor fear was an option – he was Shi-Long Lang, and he would remain ever steadfast, strong, and carry on as though nothing were wrong, and not a man in a thousand could ever spot his tension.

However, at that moment, with the recently acquired knowledge of the gruesome fate that had met Ku and his associates, the Wolf Man's insides were seized in a grip of silent trepidation as he frantically punched in Tyrell Badd's number. Although an agnostic man, as he impatiently listened to the multiple rings on the line, he found himself _praying_ that his friend would answer his cell so that he could be alerted to the potential danger that he and Lou Pole were in.

_For the love of God, Badd! Pick up the damn phone!_

After what seemed like a million years, the detective finally answered.  
 ** _  
_**"Lang, make this quick!" He growled as a greeting. "I've got an emergency here!"

"I've got an even _bigger_ emergency!" Lang countered. "You know how Ku got shot today?"

"Yes, of course, I do! That's why I'm here with Lou right now! We've got a flight risk, Lang, so make this quick!"

"They're _dead,_ Badd!" Lang hollered. " _All_ of Ku's associates: his bodyguards, friends, even his _servants_ … Looks like _nobody's_ been spared – they've _all been silenced_. We're talking snipers, mysterious poison blow darts to the neck, drowned in the river, drowned in their _damn bathtubs!_ One of them, a fellow drug lord, perished today in a car bomb! Anyone who that fiend ever had any dealings with appears to have been a marked target. It's like someone's been putting a tracker on _each and every person_ that had ever known Wa Sing Ku!"

There was a long, drawn-out pause on the line as the other man absorbed this news, then the next thing Lang knew, there was a thud as the detective appeared to have dropped the phone, and he could hear Badd hollering to his associate in the distance.

" _Lou_!" He screamed. " _Wait! Stop!_ "

" _Badd_!" Lang shouted into the phone, his heart beginning to thump rapidly. "What's the matter? What's wrong? Can you hear me?!"

" _Noooooo_!"

That earsplitting scream was the last thing the Agent heard before a deafening boom sounded in the background, along with the sound of shattering glass.

Then the line went dead.

" _Badd!"_

Lang stood there, frozen in fright as waves of horror washed over him, his brain feeling like it'd been pickled in brine. He could not concentrate on anything else for the life of him.

For the very first time in his life, Shi-Long Lang was scared. The frightening sensation was only compounded by the sudden eruption of grief, shock, and helplessness churning within him, threatening to consume his newly battered mind with the horrific realization of his dear friend's sudden, sickening fate.

A wave of panic began to wash over him. He could feel it, creating an unstoppable snowball in the pit of his stomach. The next step was his heart starting to beat harder and faster as adrenaline levels rose. His balls tried to crawl back up inside his body and his brain started to fire out destructive thoughts like a machine gun as he broke out into a sweat from head to toe. It felt as though his flesh had another hot layer of skin on the outside, like a bin bag, it moved over his body but couldn't release. The negative thoughts kept returning like waves on rocks. He began pacing irrationally. The arguments in his head got so fast and so disturbing that his brain seemed determined to shut down. The sweat that now fully covered his body had gone cold, and his heart now felt as though it were going to explode.

Barely conscious of what he was doing, Lang hurriedly dialed emergency services and barked the scenario, as well as Lou's address, to the dispatcher, before quickly hanging up and rushing through the door that adjoined his hotel suite with Kay's. The anxiety within him was building anew at the thought of how he was going to break the sudden news to the young woman about her beloved Uncle when all this time she had been innocently, and obliviously, working on surveillance for him, unaware of the bomb that had just dropped on them all, both literally and figuratively!

He rushed into the room, and opened his mouth to speak, scanning his brain for the right words, but halted abruptly, as he came suddenly upon the young woman, swathed in an aura of profoundly heartbreaking distress and sorrow.

Sitting on the floor, next to her room desk, bearing all of her computer and surveillance equipment, next to a discarded, toppled chair, was Kay, curled up into a tiny ball, her knees drawn to her chest, and her head buried in her hands, her frame wracking with sobs.

Lang felt his stomach plummet to the floor as he silently cursed the paper-thin walls of the hotel, along with his accursed loud cadence.

She'd _heard_. She _already_ **_knew_**.

"Kay…" He whispered, feeling downright helpless about what to possibly say. He walked over and squatted down before her, placing a tentative hand on her shaking shoulder.

The young agent's head shot up at the sound of his voice, her haunted, bloodshot green eyes staring sightlessly before her, and her face drenched with tears.

"Kay, we need to get to the hospital. I already called the ambulance to get over there, so they are probably already at the scene… Let's not jump to the worst-case scenario – we can't lose hope just yet…"

She shook her head, her chin quivering uncontrollably, refusing to be placated by words they both knew were unlikely to be true.

" _Uncle Badd!"_ She wept. "He was all I had _left!_ I've known him since I was a l–little g–girl! _Whyyyy?!"_

Wordlessly, Lang pulled the weeping Yatagarasu against his chest, swallowing back the lump in his own throat. He had to stay strong. He couldn't break down along with her, even though his heart, too, was downright shattered.

For the longest time, Kay Faraday remained in the comforting embrace of Shi-Long Lang on that Borginian hotel room floor until her sobs finally subsided, even though the tears continued to silently flow, unchecked, down her cheeks and drip from her chin. She was too devastated to cry out or wail, so she just sat there, as still as a statue in his arms, while the magnitude and grief of her loss swept over her. There was nothing left, nobody left, no reason to move.

* * *

 _Borginia_  
November 25, 2025, 10:00 AM

**_BLAZE OF GLORY! Billionaire playboy and lover perish in a fiery plane crash!_ **

_Multi-billionaire Maximillian Banks, 33, and his main squeeze, Debbie Dallas, 35, have died after his small private jet plane crashed on an island off the east coast of Quebec._

_Authorities said the real-life Tony Stark of Europe, along with his longtime lover, met their fiery doom when the plane crashed as it approached Iles-de-la-Madeleine Airport, amid heavy winds and snow, while visiting the province on their winter vacation._

_Banks was as notorious for his collection of rare and imported artwork as he was renowned for being on the "high-end party scene" and was usually accompanied by Dallas, a fellow socialite and well-known "party girl."_

_Officials with the Transportation Safety Board of Canada traveled to Havre aux Maisons Island in the Magdalen Islands to determine the cause of the crash._

_The twin-engine turboprop plane had left Montreal's St Hubert Airport on Tuesday morning…_

* * *

"I _cannot_ believe this _hogwash_ made it to print in any sort of publication of any repute whatsoever!" The recently pronounced deceased billionaire playboy seethed. "It's like reading my _own bloody **obituary**_!"

Disgusted, Miles crumpled up the newspaper containing the ersatz news article, which had been the front-page headline of the morning paper, and hurled it into the nearby wastebasket before shooting a lethal glare at the slightly smirking Lang, who was sitting across from him in the visitor's lounge of _Jõhvi Hospital._

"It _is_ sort of morbid to be reading about your alter ego's _fiery death_ while keeping vigil to see if someone that we _adore_ will live to see another day," Lana admitted awkwardly, biting at her thumbnail. "While I don't exactly relish Interpol having so much fun with that bogus article, which refers to my _porn star named_ , party girl self as the _main squeeze,_ I suppose I _should_ be grateful for the creative liberties taken in _shaving nearly 5 years_ off my _actual_ age…"

"Is that your way of saying that I shouldn't quit my day job and take up being a journalist, Lana?" Lang grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I'm saying that you have _one sick and twisted_ sense of humor, Wolf Man, and I cannot _believe_ the way Max and Debbie were described in that article!" She snapped. " _Blaze of Glory_?! Talk about your sick sensationalism and warped irony, unsuccessfully attempting to be passed off as _comedic written wit_! This article was supposed to be a posthumous, pseudo epitaph, not an _homage to Bon Jovi!_ I realized the ends justify the means, but _still_ –"

"I apologize if you and Miles didn't appreciate the creative leeway taken by Interpol with that news release, but better we did _that_ and let whoever has gone on a killing spree think that you two are worm chow, rather than have you join the heavenly ranks alongside Ku and the Klan," Lang reminded her, arching an eyebrow. "Or have you already forgotten that you were _both_ witnessed, _on several occasions,_ associating with the kingpin, and therefore were more than likely to be next in line on that _hit list_?"

"I suppose we _should_ be _thanking_ you then, for taking preemptive measures," the chess lover muttered darkly. "Which I suppose I _shall_ do, as soon as I get over that _most unflattering depiction_! Although, since we are on the topic of people associated with the late, _not so great,_ Ku, this bears another looming question. Amidst the latest tragedy that has befallen us, have you been keeping track of whatever happened to Li? I would imagine as his betrothed, she also potentially would have been an intended target?"

"Nobody has been recovered as of yet," the Agent replied dismissively, suddenly looking utterly drained. "At this point, it wouldn't be very far-fetched to assume that Li didn't have to suffer the _whole till death do us part_ thing for very long, nor did she have to wait until she was _married_ to the son of a bitch. I guess her status could best be explained right now as _still missing, presumed annoying_."

"Lang, you're an absolute _ghoul,_ " the brunette glowered at him. "It's horrendously inappropriate that you're _wisecracking_ and making _terrible jokes_ when someone so near and dear to us has their life hanging in _complete limbo!"_

" _Not so fast!_ I only made that last jibe based on the _perception feedback_ that _you_ and Miles gave me, Agent Skye!" The Interpol Agent put his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender.

Lana and Miles both looked away and blushed guiltily.

"Now, instead of attacking me for what the both of you believe to be my _lack of skill_ with _written verse_ , might I suggest a truce, and instead venture that we keep a positive front, at least for Kay's sake?" Lang suggested mildly. "As you know, she's been an absolute wreck for the past two weeks, even though we should be grateful that Detective Badd didn't have any flying shrapnel embedded in him, nor had any internal bleeding or blood on his brain, but merely suffered broken ribs and one ruptured eardrum…"

"Don't forget suffered a severe concussion from the impact of the blunt force trauma to his head from the explosion, which has resulted in him being in a coma for the last fortnight, from which we still don't know he will ever recover," the ninja interjected bitterly, completely out of nowhere.

The trio jumped slightly in their seats and flushed remorsefully at the fact that they had been so busy complaining and idly jabbering about frivolous matters, that they hadn't even noticed the dejected Agent rejoining the group. There was a tense silence as they fidgeted in their seats, all of them now uncertain of what to do or say to the gloomy Kay, whose eyes moved slower and were always more downcast, skimming the floor, rarely rising to eye level, since the incident. It was evident in her voice too, which was now quieter, with a meekness that wasn't usually part of her speech pattern, and it was heartbreaking to see her former, vibrant self be utterly vanquished, and reduced to a withered husk of what she'd been.

"Life is short, there are no guarantees," the Zheng-Fa native ventured, at last, attempting to go the philosophical route. "Lang Zi says: _'The passage of time is but a fleeting moment'_ …"

This proved to be a huge mistake, as the raven-haired Agent crossed her arms over her chest and subjected him to a ferocious glare.

"With all due respect, Agent Lang, will you please put a lid on it _with_ your _trite and pointless parables_?!" She shouted furiously at the shocked-looking Agent, her voice trembling with emotion. "I am _sick and tired_ of you constantly spewing off _nonsensical_ crap about what Lang-Zi says! _Nobody_ _gives a **damn**_ _about what Lang-Zi says_! Least of all, _at this moment!"_

Completely taken aback by the violent outburst, Lang's jaw dropped open, but he wisely remained quiet, and Lana and Miles both dropped their gazes to the floor, uncertain of how to react now, as it appeared the normally amiable Agent's nerves were beyond frayed. Finally, after the world's longest pregnant pause, Miles was the first to recover.

"Kay, my apologies if we seemed insensitive just now," he said quickly, rising from his seat and placing a hand on her shoulder as she slumped into the empty seat next to Lang. "I assure you, we are now fully focused on what's most important. What did the Doctor say? Has there been any change in his condition?"

The raven-haired girl peeked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, and right away, he knew the answer before she even spoke. Miles felt a sharp pang at the anguish saw in her normally sunny face. Having known Kay since she had been a wayward, spunky child, it pained him to see her in such a state, for the sparkle of yesterday was extinguished. She was unhappy in a way he'd never seen before; such was the weight of her bereavement.

Sorrow was the new smile in his friend's eye now. Tears replaced the sunshine. Correspondingly, it hadn't escaped any of their minds that only nine months ago, within that same year, a previous heartbreak had already struck their group with the loss of Carol. Life was dark for them, with no ray of looming light within sight, for what seemed to be forever.

"First of all, Mr. Edgeworth, Agent Lang, I'm not a little girl anymore," Kay responded hollowly. "So none of you need to pretend like everything is copasetic for _my_ benefit, OK? I am an adult, and just like all of you, I have already faced great loss in my life, so there's no need to pretend that history may _not_ repeat itself. _It is what it is._ They've been doing everything they can for Uncle Badd, and while they keep saying that he's lucky to still be alive and not have any internal injuries or have lost or damaged any limbs or organs, they've also made it painfully clear that the longer he remains comatose, the lesser the likelihood is that he'll ever wake up again."

Her voice broke then.

"I don't know what I'm going to do if I lose him! I –I just love that old man so damn much! H –He's my _family_! He's _all I've got!"_

With that, Kay buried her head in her hands and sobbed, rocking back in forth in her seat as she did so.

Lang swallowed hard and exchanged a concerned look with Miles as he placed his hand on her other shoulder while Lana blinked back tears. Tyrell Badd was more than a colleague to them – he was like a wise and loving father figure, a true and faithful friend but moreover, the only remaining family Kay Faraday had left. On top of their worried and semi-grieving states, there were all greatly concerned about the mental and emotional impact the older man's potential passing would have on the young woman. They all had already observed the formidable Franziska Von Karma fall apart earlier that year, and thus far, the legist had still been unable to reach her to let her know about this latest tragic event. None of them had any idea how things would possibly progress, or what they could do, should Kay go to pieces as well.

Miles Edgeworth was generally a man who most people considered the strong, silent type at best, and at worst, by those who did not know him well, was deemed aloof, cold, and dismissive. However, while the list of people whom he truly loved and cared about was a very short one, the distraught young woman next to him, who was weeping as though her heart would surely break, was definitely on that shortlist. The barrister was generally not the emotionally expressive sort, preferring to be a problem solver and man of action, but the truth was that as far as women went, right alongside Franziska and Maya Fey, Kay Faraday meant the world to him. There had been a time when he had realized the plucky hoyden had meant so much to him that he (albeit, mercifully, for only a brief period!) had forsaken his prosecutor badge! Moreover, he realized this was _one time_ when he needed to offer comfort _with words_ , and _not give_ _a rat's ass_ about the _potential_ _consequences_ to his _cravat!_

Crouching down beside her, the prosecutor gently tugged the weeping ninja's hands away from her face, so she had no choice but to look at him.

"I understand that while the rest of us care deeply for that man lying in that room, fighting for his life, that he means the most to _you_ , Kay." His normally unruffled tone was surprisingly tender. "Yet there is something that I need you to understand now, which is how much _you_ mean to _us,_ and specifically, how much you mean to _me._ I was born an only child, but I wasn't much younger than you were when I was orphaned, and then suddenly given two wonderful young women, whom I grew to love as sisters. For the longest time, their love helped atone for the nightmare that was the monster who raised me."

The Yatagarasu had stopped crying now and was peering searchingly into his visage, obviously wondering where he was going with this. There was something solemn swimming in his eyes. Their stunning, grey depths held truth that his face could not hide. The despairing chill that they conveyed made her feel heartbroken. She looked away; she couldn't bear it. What was usually strength now showed a despondency that mirrored her own, and what used to be firm resolve now showed naked woe. Miles had to stop and clear his throat before he was able to continue.

"Unfortunately, one of those young women got married and flew the nest very shortly after I arrived in their home. The other one, as you know, I later forfeited my _sibling status_ to pursue what later became a different kind of love. Nonetheless, that sisterly void Franziska left behind when I gave her my heart was later filled when I met _you_ , Kay Faraday. I have known you since you were a feisty, cheeky child, and I've watched you blossom into this strong, capable, intelligent woman, whom I couldn't love more like my own sister, than if you were my blood relative. That will never change, and I hope you understand that even if the worst-case scenario occurs here, that you won't _ever_ be alone, because _you_ are _my_ family."

Touched, but understandably equally astonished by the poignant words, as much as by their source, the shattered girl's wide emerald eyes stared into Miles Edgeworth's face and saw something she had hoped to see never again – a lone tear rolling down his cheek. Next to her, while she didn't see it, she could feel Agent Lang quickly wiping his eyes beside her, although in this case, she was uncertain if it was due to Badd, or the surprisingly moving words he had just heard! Silently, as though sensing the gruff man's need for comfort, Lana rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around the Wolf Man, who didn't put up any resistance.

Kay thought about what had happened.

_Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while so that we can see with a clearer view again._

Putting her hand on her friend's arm, she gave a small, watery smile and mouthed the words, _I love you, too_. He smiled back, and at that moment, she knew everything was going to be all right.

Then, wordlessly, the cravat-wearer held his arms open in invitation, and Kay flung himself into his embrace with a strangled sob. She buried his face into the crook of his neck and they remained there like that for a while, the Agent wracked with the force of unvoiced cries and Miles holding her, his heart aching for his dear friend.

"I hate to interrupt you all." Out of the blue, an unfamiliar voice sounded from above the heads of the embracing, teary-eyed foursome. "But I'm looking for a Miss Kay Faraday?"

Immediately, Miles and the Agents jerked into an upright position and looked worriedly at the young male doctor standing before them.

"I – I'm Kay Faraday." The Interpol Agent reflexively reached for Miles' hand as she spoke, who silently gave it a supportive squeeze in return. "D – Do you have an update on my Uncle?"

The doctor noticed her apprehensive expression and flashed a reassuring smile.

" _Someone_ up there likes your Uncle very much, young lady," he told her. "It's a miracle, considering his age and the intensity of that explosion, but Detective Badd just woke up, and is well on the road to recovery. Even though he's exhausted and groggy, he's still coherent, and as a matter of fact, the first person he asked for was _you_. He's awake if you'd like to go see him."

"Of _course,_ I'd like to go see him!" Kay shrieked ecstatically, wrapping her jubilant arms around Miles' neck and then launching herself at first Lang, and then Lana. "We _all_ would!"

"Well, normally we say _family only_ …" The doctor frowned slightly, then faltered as Kay put her hands on her hips and stared him down in a manner which was not at all dissimilar to a cobra that was poised to strike.

"We are _all_ of us his family, Doctor," she declared, in a no-nonsense voice that Miles had never heard her use before. "Just because we are not _blood_ does not make us members of the same _pack, nevertheless!_ I understand my Uncle might be tired, and we may not be able to stay for long, but I am going to _insist_ that you allow his fellow kin, to whom my Uncle is very much a _brother_ and _father_ _figure,_ to see him as well! I swear to you that seeing _them_ will undeniably be most therapeutic for your patient, as surely as I swear that _I am The Great Thief Yatagarasu!"_

 _Egad!_ Miles groaned inwardly and barely resisted the urge to facepalm. _And she was doing so well until she threw in that **last** bit, too!_

Ultimately, it was undetermined whether it was the sight of the Wolf Man _bearing his fangs_ at the doctor, or Kay's impassioned speech, which did the trick, but in the end, all four of them were cordially escorted to the patient room of one Detective Tyrell Badd.

The detective was sitting up in bed, his gaunt face as white as the bandages on his ear and head, but he smiled at the sight of them, and his arms were already extended towards Kay, who lurched at him with her usual exuberance, causing the burly man to grunt slightly in discomfort.

"Easy there, kid," he chuckled, the pain evident in his face even as he held her close and stroked her hair. "Are you trying to break these _remaining_ old ribs of mine?"

"You give us quite a scare, Pops," Lang said gruffly, although the sentiment on his face belied his words. As Kay finally untangled herself from her Uncle, the Agent took the detective's hand within both of his in a firm clasp. "Don't you dare go dying on us anytime soon, you hear?"

Badd attempted to laugh at the quip but only ended up coughing slightly, even as he managed to wave weakly at the visibly relieved Lana and Miles. Exhausted, he fell back against the pillows and shut his eyes.

 _"Fuck this shit!"_ He rasped, reaching gratefully for the glass of water that Lana hurriedly handed him. "I'm getting too old for this!"

Miles smirked to himself. Despite the defeated-sounding words, _he_ very much took them as an indication that Badd was going to be _just fine._

"Well, nobody's going to blame you if you have no desire to jump back into the field anytime soon, if at all," Lang admitted, then quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "Somehow, though, I just can't see you being the type to spend the rest of his golden years just idly sitting on beachfront property."

"Of course not!" Badd retorted smugly. "Have you _any_ idea what kind of a lousy salary we detectives make? What kind of pension plan did you think I was going be _getting_? I'd be lucky if I could afford one of those drinks with the tiny umbrellas, in a home that was big enough to have my own _balcony_ , never mind own _backyard, because that costs extra_!"

"I never dreamed _I'd_ be the one ever saying this," Miles inserted dryly. "But you just were brought back to life by some sort of _miracle_ , Detective Badd. Might I suggest talk about work be somewhat delayed for now?"

"I've been told my hearing was completely _shot_ in one ear," Badd deadpanned. "But I could've _sworn_ I just heard the _workaholic prosecutor,_ turned undercover agent, suggest that _work_ take a _backseat_ to something!"

"Indeed, I can assure you heard me correctly!" Miles crossed his arms and looked sternly at the amused-looking detective. "And I stand by my words!"

"He's right though," Lana cut in anxiously. "We should be thanking the Man upstairs that you're still with us, detective, and to _hell_ with everything else right now!"

"No way!" Badd shook his head stubbornly. "I nearly croaked protecting this valuable information that poor bastard Lou risked his own life getting to me, and even if _I_ am physically restrained from being able to do anything about it, isn't that what you _youngsters_ are here for?"

" _Information_?" Lang stared blankly at the other man. "What the _hell_ are you talking about, Badd?"

"Did _nobody_ check the inside zipped lining of my trench coat?" Badd demanded, attempting to sit up again but grunting from the discomfort in his ribs the action had caused. "I'm pretty sure that if _I_ survived that explosion, _Old Faithful_ did as well! Kay, honey, what did they do with my coat and belongings from that night?"

"Um… I think _most_ of them were somewhat _charred to a crisp_ …" Kay walked over to the small chest of drawers in the corner of the room and began rummaging through it. "But whatever they _were_ able to salvage should be in here somewhere… _Boo-ya_!"

A moment later, she triumphantly waved the battered garment in the air. It had only further deteriorated since that fateful night, with black soot stains now accompanying the bullet holes and tears, but as her expert fingers deftly reached into the requested pocket, they retrieved a wondrously _intact_ sheet of paper, with handwritten scrawl upon it.

"Is _this_ what you meant, Uncle Badd?"

"Give it to Lang." The detective nodded as he coughed again. "This was the document that Ku always had on his person, which Lou managed to swipe off his body after the sniper attack. There's a bunch of notorious drug lords and smugglers across the globe on there! There's no way we can afford to _not_ look into these leads!"

"You're right!" Lang whistled in appreciation as he looked over the list of names and information on the paper. "We've been chasing some of these fiends for ages! This just might be the break we need!"

"Leave it to _you_ , Detective Badd," Lana smiled fondly as she shook her head. "Not only do you escape the clutches of death while managing to give it the middle finger, but within a heartbeat, you somehow managed to potentially get us further in our investigations than any have managed to achieve these last _seven_ years!"

"Of _course_ I cheated death!" Badd flashed them a shit-eating grin. "Because _heaven doesn't want me_ and _hell's afraid I'll take over!_ "

"Because you're a total _badass_ , Uncle Badd!" Kay crowed triumphantly, clasping her hands together over her head and beaming broadly. " _You're_ the reason they probably created that famous song that my dad used to always play when I was a kid!" With that, the elated Agent began dancing around the room and singing the lyrics to "Bad to the Bone."

* * *

**_On the day I was born_ **   
**_The nurses all gathered 'round_ **   
**_And they gazed in wide wonder_ **   
**_At the joy they had found_ **   
**_The head nurse spoke up_ **   
**_Said "leave this one alone"_ **   
**_She could tell right away_ **   
**_That I was bad to the bone_ **

* * *

_God's spleen!_ Miles winced at the off-key warbling _. I fervently wish I could claim that whatever Kay lacks in singing capability, she more than atones for with enthusiasm, but I would_ be **_lying!_** _She sounds like a **frog in a mailbox**!_

"Enough!" Lang laughingly held up a hand before the Great Thief could assault their ears with the second verse. "If _I_ promise not to quit my day job to become a _news reporter_ , Kay, _you_ need to swear to me that _you_ will do the same and not attempt to become any sort of _singer_! Stick with ninja stealth as your go-to skill, I beg of you!"

 _Ngh! I second that motion!_ The logic enthusiast added silently.

"Lana and Miles!" Lang snapped his fingers in their direction then. "Now that we know that Detective Badd isn't going anywhere, we owe it to him to look into these names before this list _gets cold_! I want you both to go back to your hotel and start packing ASAP! Kay and I are going to research the whereabouts and identities of the people on this list and will have instructions for you about where your next destinations will be within the hour. Chances are, you'd cover more ground if you made your investigative trips separately, as there's a lot of names on this list that need to be covered, before the newly deceased Max heads over to the States as our ground asset for LeTouse, while ex-Debbie takes over in Europe, come springtime."

"You got it." Lana sprung forward and hugged Badd, being careful to do so in a gentler manner than his niece had.

"We're on it," Miles nodded, coming over to shake Badd's hand one last time before nodding at both Lang and Kay and swiftly exiting the room, Lana in tow.

The moment they were gone, Kay smiled brightly at the two men.

"I've got to call Gummy right away!" She squealed. "I've kept him in the loop about the circumstances, Uncle Badd, and he wanted to come over right away to see his beloved old mentor, but we convinced him not to leave his wife and kids for what may have been an undeterminable amount of time until we knew what was going on with you! I'm positive he'll be on the next flight over tonight once he gets the great news!"

"I've missed that bumbler!" Badd said huskily, the affection in his eyes impossible to miss. "I can't believe he went from being my protégé, once upon a time, to the _Chief of Police_ now! How's _that_ for proof that _wonders will never cease_?"

"Gumshoe's been as worried sick about you as we all were," Lang informed him. "Even though you've been _out of sight_ for many years, it definitely doesn't mean that you've been _out of mind_ for that man. He was an absolute _wreck_ when we told him what happened to you."

"I can't wait to see the big lug again," Badd admitted. "He might be a bumbler, but he's got a heart of gold, that one. I've never forgotten him either."

"You know who _else_ loves you, Uncle Badd?" Kay was positively bouncing on her heels with glee now. "Raymond Shields! And you before you even ask, _yes_ , his wife will be accompanying him when he comes to see you on the first train over tonight! He wouldn't dream of leaving her behind!"

"I can't wait to see Gregory Edgeworth's old partner and his lovely lady again! It's been a dog's age!"

"Lang Zi says: ' _True friends are bosom friends'_." Lang flashed an impish grin at Kay, who grinned right back. "I'm assuming you have no objections to _this_ quote?"

" _None whatsoever_! And _amen_ to that!" Suddenly, a pensive frown marred her forehead. "Er… I'm assuming that _you_ will be the one to ensure that _all_ necessary and relevant _related parties_ are made aware of the update on Uncle Badd's health, while _I_ begin investigating the names on that list for Lana and Mr. Edgeworth?"

"I'll make sure they're wholly aware of the latest circumstances," Lang answered guardedly. "And they'll probably be here within the hour, but undoubtedly long gone by the time Gumshoe arrives."

"You would think with Gummy coming up all the way from the States, that there could have been a big ol' reunion with _everybody_!" Kay lamented. "I know he'll be thrilled to see Mr. Shields and Katherine again, but I feel bad knowing that Lana and Mr. Edgeworth won't be _the only blasts from the past_ the Chief _won't be reuniting with_!"

"I didn't set their terms and conditions, Kay," Lang sighed, closing his eyes. "It's a tragic situation, but my place is not to question _why_. My place is to _silently respect_ and _oblige_ their wishes…"

"And try _not to cry_."

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 14, 2026, 2:30 PM

Lana waited patiently outside the taxi as Miles paid the driver and, grabbing his suitcase, led the way up the walkway to the front door of the mansion as it sped off.

"The last five months have been a whirlwind, haven't they?" He remarked as he turned his key in the lock. "Although I think Lang will be pleased with the fruits of our labor. I'm cautiously optimistic that a few of the leads that I looked into may pan out into something this time."

"So am I with my own." Lana stepped into the foyer behind him. "Although, after nearly half the year spent all by my lonesome, I was happy that Lang let us be together to investigate that final lead in Zheng-Fa. Even though we had to run back and forth between there and Cohdopia, I'm pretty sure that Fu Manchu might be the answer to what we've been seeking for so long! Or at the very least, he's a steer in the right direction!"

"It's out of our hands now," Miles shrugged, glancing around the strangely silent main hallway with a furrowed brow. "The onus of handling all the research material that we presented is now in the capable hands of Lang, Kay, and Badd. And Franziska, as well, I imagine, assuming anyone can get a hold of her."

"I know you were hoping she'd be here when you got back," Lana observed, noting the frown on his face with a concerned expression. "But it's still in the middle of the workday, and didn't you say the last time you spoke to Helga, she'd indicated Franziska had gone back to work?"

"Speaking of Helga, I have no idea where _she_ is, either." Miles set down his bag. "Or where _any_ of the servants are. This house is as quiet as a mausoleum! Where on earth _is_ everybody, I wonder? I told her before we left Zheng-Fa that I'd be arriving home today."

" _Willkommen zuhause, Meister!"_ Unexpectedly, the old housekeeper swooped upon the duo, beaming with smiles at the sight of her master as she graciously inclined her head in greeting towards Lana. "It has been far too long! I hope you had a good journey?"

"All is well, Helga," Miles replied pleasantly. "I am most pleased to see that you're still here, because nine out of ten times, whenever I tried to ring the house this _past year,_ there has been no answer, which I confess left me quite confused, and a tad concerned."

Helga abruptly stopped smiling and dropped her eyes as she began fidgeting with her white apron.

"It is mostly just my husband and myself who are here now, _Meister_ ," she mumbled, still not looking at him. "Please understand that in our advanced years, running an estate as large as this just by ourselves makes it quite difficult to always get to the telephone in time. My sincere apologies for any inconvenience this may have caused you."

"It's just you … _and Hans_?" Miles echoed incredulously. "Since _when_? Under whose orders?"

" _Gnädige Frau's_ orders," the maid informed him, looking increasingly uncomfortable. "Rest assured, Burkhart still comes once or twice a month to do the windows, of course! There are far too many of them, and many are much too high for my poor Hans to manage any longer, what with his back problems and such…"

" _Franziska_ gave the orders that only a mere _skeleton staff_ remain behind to maintain a huge manor like _this_?" Lana gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth as both Helga and Miles both turned to stare at her, as though having forgotten her presence. "Um, sorry, it's none of my business, of course. I hate to interrupt all of this, Miles, but it was never my intention to remain here and be in your hair any longer than necessary."

The pretty brunette turned to Helga and smiled sweetly.

"You see, I had planned to continue my journey in our shared airport taxi to go to the residence of my old coroner friend, who now resides here in Germany. But, as soon as we got into the vehicle, my sister texted me with an urgent message, stating it _imperative_ that I call her back immediately. As Murphy's Law dictates though, my phone chose that _exact_ moment when Miles realized _his_ battery was dead, too. Therefore, if it's not too much trouble, may I please use your telephone to call Ema?"

Helga seemed all too eager to remove herself from her employer's prying gaze at that moment. Cleeking Lana's hand, she all but dragged the Agent towards the study off to the side.

"Come with me! I will be happy to answer any of your _remaining_ questions later after I tend to your companion, _Meister_ Edgeworth!" She called back to Miles. "In the meantime, why not go freshen up in your chambers? I will be up shortly to attend to any of your needs."

Lana turned back to her friend.

"I'll ring for another cab as I'm done, then see myself out immediately after."

Miles couldn't help but feel a strange sense of foreboding rising within him as he climbed the stairs towards the upper level. Something fallacious was most definitely underfoot. In all the years he had known Helga, he had _never_ known her to be so skittish and jumpy before, as though she were _hiding_ something from him. Besides, he had certainly never known her to skirt around answering a _direct inquiry!_

As soon as he got upstairs to his bedroom, Miles dropped his suitcase by the door and looked around the familiar room, which was as tastefully decorated and immaculate as it had been when he had last seen it eleven months ago. At first glance, nothing _appeared_ to be amiss.

All the same, there was still a nagging feeling in his gut, which he found impossible to ignore, and rather than linger in the bedroom, he immediately went into Franziska's adjoining study.

On top of the computer desk was a large stack of unopened mail, with both his and Franziska's names on them and he listlessly flipped through the pile, noting nothing of particular interest until he came across a glossy, embossed envelope. It was addressed to Mr. Miles Edgeworth and Miss Franziska Von Karma in elegant calligraphy and was unmistakably an _invitation_ of some sort.

Bewildered, Miles snatched the silver letter opener out of the top desk drawer and sliced it open, assuming that perhaps it was an invitation from Gumshoe and Maggey, inviting them to the baptism of their new baby son, Jeff.

 _How curious for them to use the color **lavender** for a christening event, considering it's a boy, rather than baby blue or even crème?_ He absently thought to himself. _Oh well, it's a beautiful, summery color regardless, and neither one of those two has ever been one to follow traditional mandate!_

The prosecutor pulled out the card, made from the same heavy paper stock as the envelope, and as he scanned the raised lettering written upon it, his normally unflustered mien morphed into one of utter stupefaction.

* * *

_The pleasure of your company_   
_is requested at the marriage of_   
_Maya Uma Fey_   
_to_   
_Longines Deandre Crispin Beaugosse III_   
_Tuesday, the Sixteenth of June_   
_Two thousand and twenty-six_   
_at 10 o'clock in the morning_

* * *

The invitation fluttered from his shaky fingers and fell unnoticed to the plush carpet.

 _Wedding?! **Maya**?!_ Miles' mind was reeling from shock. **_Wright's_** _Maya?!_ _The **same Maya** that has been in love with my best friend, **Phoenix Wright** , for nearly a **decade** now?! **That Maya**?! How can this be?! And **who the hell** is **Longines?!** I know I've been out of touch for some time, but I was only **undercover for a year**?! What **else** has changed since I've been gone?!_

The prosecutor stood there, blinking repeatedly for several moments before he staggered, as though in a daze, back into the bedroom, and this time, his vision landed on yet _another_ envelope. This one was of the plain white variety, carefully propped up against something on his night table, next to his bedside lamp. The front of the envelope simply read " _Miles_ " in his fiancée's familiar, elegant hand. He snatched it up and tore it open, not even caring to bother with a letter opener this time.

In spite of that, the written contents pierced his heart more excruciatingly than _any_ letter opener or sharp object on the planet ever could have.

* * *

_Dear Miles,_

_I have learned many lessons in life because of you, most of them during our time together. Nevertheless, as I write this letter to you, the one that most stands out in my mind is:  
" **life must appear on the forehead, although death is carried in the heart."**_

_Sometimes, I'm terrified of my heart; of his constant hunger for whatever it is, what it wants. The way it stops and starts. For as long as I've known you, but especially over the last eight years, every heartbeat has belonged to you. That will never change. However in doing that, I've given you all, and now I am nothing, with nothing left to offer you._

_I was looking for a good that was and that perhaps does not exist on earth. I no longer look for it, I do not expect it, I do not want it. So I am calmer._

_The world is often a cruel and wretched place, Miles. In understanding that, this past year, I also have realized that I can no longer offer you what you need, or what you most greatly desire in this life, nor on this earth. Therefore, this is where I bid you adieu, and wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors._

_William Shakespeare once wrote: "Journeys end in lovers meeting." Miles, you and I have not only met; together, we have laughed, cried, and loved beyond my wildest dreams and fantasies in what has been the journey, and love, of a lifetime._

_That notwithstanding, our journey has now come to an end._

_I dedicate the words of the great Hispanic poet, Nino Bravo, to you with this final swan song:_

* * *

**_ A Kiss and A Flower _ **

_I'll leave my land for you_

_I'll leave my fields and I will go_

_far from here._

_Weeping, I'll cross the garden_

_and with your memories, I will go_

_far from here._

_By day I'll live thinking about your smiles_

_by night the stars shall keep me company._

_You will be like a light shining down on my path_

_I go now, but I swear that tomorrow I'll be back._

_At the moment of leaving, a kiss and a flower_

_an "I love you", a caress_

_and goodbye._

_It's a scant luggage_

_for such a long trip._

_Sorrows weigh heavy in the heart._

_Beyond the sea, there'll be a place_

_where the sun is brighter_

_each morning._

_My fate will be forged_

_by the stones on the path._

_What is beloved to us_

_will always be left behind._

_I will look for a place for you_

_where the heaven joins the sea_

_far away from here._

_With my hands and your love_

_I will manage to find another dream,_

_far away from here._

_By day I'll live thinking about your smiles_

_by night the stars shall keep me company._

_You will be like a light shining down on my path_

_I go now, but I swear that tomorrow I'll be back._

_At the moment of leaving, a kiss and a flower_

_an "I love you", a caress_

_and goodbye._

_It's a scant luggage_

_for such a long trip._

_Sorrows weigh heavy in the heart._

_Beyond the sea, there'll be a place_

_where the sun is brighter  
  
_ _each morning  
My fate will be forged  
  
_

_by the stones on the path._

_What is beloved to us_

_will always be left behind._

* * *

_I hope you'll forgive my use of several verses that were not written from my own mind. We neither of us have ever been particularly good at expressing ourselves with words – perhaps that was what made us kindred spirits at one point. However, while some of the more lyrical words that I have chosen to use may not have been originated from myself, know that they are meant with my whole heart._

_Abschied, Liebling._

_Für immer Ihre Dame,_   
_Franziska_

* * *

Miles gawked at that sheet of paper in stunned disbelief and even rubbed his eyes, as if willing the gut-wrenching words on it to change if he did so hard enough, but to no avail.

 **_Farewell, Darling,_ ** _she hath insipidly written – then dared to sign it **Forever your lady**. _ _As if such platitude cushions this blindsiding, soul-crushing, **blow**!_

Eight. Bloody. Years…all _obliterated_ , with just _one letter_. His hopes and dreams all entirely annihilated with the mere stroke of a pen.

It was unbelievable. Surreal. Unfathomable.

He tumbled backward onto the bed as his knees gave out beneath him, clutching the letter to his chest. His eyes fell upon the item that had been propping the letter upright, and saw an _undeniably familiar_ velvet jeweler's box, sitting atop the nightstand.

Miles didn't even need to look inside to know what lay within its contents.

The token of his love. Her betrothal ring.

His swift and sudden heartbreak was like a ravenous wolf clawing and gnashing at his chest, tearing its way to his trembling heart. It threatened to devour him, eat him whole, and leave nothing but scraps behind.

These were a weak man's thoughts, and he despised himself for allowing his battered mind to indulge in such a jejune manner.

 _Pull yourself together, Miles Edgeworth!_ His logical mind attempted to lecture him sternly. _You have survived greater strife in your life that far surpasses this! Be strong! Refuse to be the canine's scraps that **cowardly** woman so callously left behind!_

Strengthened by this resolve, he did his best to ignore it. Taking a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to compose himself, he got off the bed and booted up the study computer, desperate to distract himself by sorting through his emails. However, after idly scrolling through a large mountain of messages, glimpsing at them without really seeing them, he found he had little appetite for it, just as he had little appetite for food or anything else at that moment. Mindlessly, his hand reached for the mouse and clicked on the internet browser's web history.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the very last thing Franziska had viewed.

At the sight of it, a rush of tormenting memories resurfaced, and Miles' suppressed heartache resumed full force, like red-hot coal placed in his chest. It glowed and burnt him at the same time, but it did not cool quickly like coal in water, but instead throbbed and tortured him with its agonizing pain, and there was no relief to be found within sight.

Thus, the merciless wolf still tore away at him, shred by shred.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Survivor – Eye of the Tiger  
> George Thorogood & The Destroyers – Bad to the Bone


	114. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time, ever I saw your face  
> I thought the sun rose in your eyes  
> And the moon and the stars  
> Were the gifts you gave  
> To the dark, and the endless skies  
> My love  
> To the dark, and the endless skies
> 
> And the first time, ever I kissed your mouth  
> I felt the earth move in my hands  
> Like the trembling heart  
> Of a captive bird  
> That was there, at my command  
> My love  
> That was there, at my command  
> My love
> 
> And the first time, ever I lay with you  
> I felt your heart so close to mine  
> And I knew our joy  
> Would fill the earth  
> And last, til the end of time  
> My love  
> And it would last, til the end of time  
> My love
> 
> The first time, ever I saw  
> Your face  
> Your face  
> Your face  
> Your face

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ January 10, 2002

It was a trifling thought in hindsight, but the day that Manfred Von Karma first brought Miles Edgeworth home to his sprawling estate in Germany, Miles honestly felt like he was a character in a movie. Moreover, in this particular case, he very much felt like Dorothy from _The Wizard of Oz_ , right after the cyclone had dumped her off into the unfamiliar land of munchkins and talking scarecrows. Nearly crippled with jetlag and fatigue, his confused and still grieving mind was a mess of scattered and jumbled thoughts, although _had_ he been able to piece them together, he probably _would_ have been thinking something along the lines of, _Well Miles, I guess you're not in Los Angeles anymore._

He felt completely dazed and confused as his wide eyes took in his unfamiliar surroundings and assessed the enormous, palatial estate that was to be his new home. It completely dwarfed the Spanish-style, split-level home that he'd shared with his parents back in California – and _theirs_ had been considered one of the biggest houses on the block!

Although he was dressed in his best dark red matching blazer jacket and trousers, the nervous and self-conscious little boy still felt like a pauper who was entering the Winter Palace of the beautiful Snow Queen and her little silver-haired Princess when he first set eyes upon Wilhelmine and Franziska Von Karma.

Descending the long spiral staircase was a stunning vision of a woman, easily the most beautiful one Miles had ever seen in his life, a thought that belatedly made him traitorous towards his own mother, who had passed away when he was only five of a long illness. Carol Edgeworth had been a sweetly pretty woman, with shy, grayish-blue eyes and long auburn curls, but the ethereal beauty coming towards them, a soft smile on her rosebud lips, was in another league of femininity entirely.

Manfred Von Karma's wife was truly breathtaking. She swept down grandly, looking as though she were floating more than walking as she approached her husband and the nervous-looking child beside him at the foot of the stairs. Her figure was long and slim, and her silvery-blonde hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple but elegant short-sleeved, button-down, shirtwaist dress, printed in a gorgeous pattern of pink roses and green leaves, with a fitted bodice and full skirt. The arms had large cuffs, rolled up, to expose toned, slender arms, currently holding a small, female toddler against her hip. The little girl was dressed in a black velvet dress with a white, tulle ruffled skirt, her long hair tied back with a satin ribbon, and on her tiny feet were black-strapped dressy shoes, even though it was mid-afternoon in the middle of the week.

He swallowed uncomfortably against the _frilly fluttery napkin thingie_ around his neck that Mr. Von Karma had insisted he don with his suit, henceforth. Normally, the child only wore a bow tie whenever he'd had to wear suits before. However, the moment Manfred had swooped down and told Miles that he would now be living with him and his family in Europe, the prosecutor had affixed the suffocating accessory, which was a miniature version of the one he wore himself, onto Miles' neck. When he'd had complained that he was unable to breathe, the stern-faced man had sharply commanded that he'd best stop fidgeting with it and that he would soon enough grow accustomed to the feeling of _constant asphyxiation!_

"This is _the boy_ ," Manfred said curtly, by way of introduction. "Miles Edgeworth, I present my wife, Wilhelmine, and my youngest daughter, Franziska. I also have an older daughter, Katharina. She's at school now, and you'll meet her later. She's going to be 14 soon, so she's not much older than you are. How old are you again? 11?"

"Um, I'm turning 10 in April, Sir." Miles cleared his throat nervously. "On April 10."

"How wonderful! Your first birthday with us when it is your _premier_ double-digit age," enthused Mrs. Von Karma, smiling benignly. "You are seven years older than Franziska here. She is three years of age."

Miles started at the sound of her lilting cadence, which was as soft-spoken and melodious as her husband's voice was authoritative and cutting. She was as smooth as her spouse was rough, as approachable as he was intimidating, and seemed to have a golden aura of warmth surrounding her, as opposed to the foreboding dark cloud that _was_ Manfred Von Karma. Before he could dwell on this though, the prosecutor spoke again, with a biting edge to his tone.

"Bah! It doesn't matter when your birthday is. We don't acknowledge birthdays in this household. It's a ridiculous sentiment to be celebrating merely being another year older, and that much closer to death," Manfred dismissed abruptly. "If you're going to be living in this household boy, you had better learn to adapt to the ways of the Von Karmas, and just treat it like any other regular day of the year."

"Manfred, have a _heart!"_ Wilhelmine pleaded, affixing imploring, long-lashed eyes on her impassive husband. "He is naught but a _child_ , and it will be his _golden birthday_. Surely, we can make an exception for his first milestone with us?"

"This is _not_ up for discussion, Minna!" Manfred snapped. "I don't know where Helga is, so I'm going to leave it to _you_ to show the boy to his room. I have matters to attend to in my study. I will see you again at dinner." With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off.

Miles stood there, still absorbing what he had just heard, and fought back the urge to burst into tears. They didn't _celebrate birthdays_ in this house? But his father had _always_ gotten him something for his birthday! He'd insisted that Miles' mother would've wanted him to feel happy on this special day, even after she had passed. Subsequently, his birthdays had always been a happy event to rejoice. On his last birthday, Gregory Edgeworth had gifted his son with a brand-new bike, which he'd had to leave behind when he'd come here, along with his two best friends, Phoenix and Larry. He'd never even gotten to say goodbye to them…

Lost in his despair, he didn't even notice Mrs. Von Karma moving closer to him, but he breathed in the sweet, comforting scent of her jasmine perfume as she lightly patted his cheek with her cool, soft fingers, leaning over and putting them at eye to eye level so he could see the sincerity in hers. His sad eyes locked onto unfamiliar gray ones. However, they weren't just a gray, that term was far too plain in comparison. Her eyes shimmered like the rare rays of light bouncing off pebbles on a cloudy day. They radiated with kindness and love and were beyond magnificent.

Miles glanced over at the unspeaking toddler still in the woman's arms and dully noted that she bore identical jewel-like orbs as her mother. Not that he particularly cared. She was just a little kid; a _baby!_ He wondered if she was even _potty trained_ yet. He barely had any experience with either girls or young children and had no idea how to act towards her, whatsoever. If he was lucky, maybe she would just leave him alone if he ignored her. She was so… _small!_ And the way that she kept staring at him, without saying anything, was getting _weird!_ It was making him seriously uncomfortable. He jammed his hands in his pockets and shifted his attention back to Wilhelmine.

"Do not you worry about Manfred," the beautiful blonde woman assured him quietly, her gaze filled with determination and promise. "I vow to sneak you some birthday cake after he is gone from the house that day. I shall personally ensure our cook makes you anything your heart desires. She is a wonderful baker as well. What is your favorite cake, Miles?"

"B – Black forest." Miles felt a lump forming in his throat at this unexpected gesture of benevolence. "Thank you. T – that's so nice of you, Mrs. Von Karma."

"You are a young man of excellent taste, it seems. That a German specialty, and it is Franziska's favorite dessert, as well! You shall fit right in here before you even know it!" She laughed then, a silvery, tinkly sound that made him want to smile despite his misery. "And think nothing of it! As far as I am concerned, as of today, you are no different to me from my own daughters. While I know nothing can replace your father, I promise you that for the rest of my days, Miles, I will treat you like the son I never had."

Miles nodded hesitantly. Somehow, he could just _tell_ that the woman wasn't just saying these things for the sake of speaking; he sensed she genuinely _meant_ every word.

"Also, I hope someday you will grow to accept both Katharina and Franziska as your sisters, and all of us as your new family in due time. As such, you needn't be so formal, and should not be required to call me by the same name as my late mother-in-law, _Hildeberta!"_

The German beauty wrinkled her pert nose in playful disdain, and this time the boy couldn't help but grin in response.

"How would you feel about calling me, _Minna?"_ She prompted gently. "That is how my nearest and dearest address me."

"I would get in trouble with Mr. Von Karma if he ever heard that." Miles shook his head. "He told me I'm supposed to call you Mrs. Von Karma or _Mätresse Von Karma._ "

"Surely not!" Minna looked appalled. "I will _absolutely not_ allow you to address me by the same title as our staff does! What was that _foolish fool_ of a man _thinking?"_

"It's all right," Miles replied hastily, not wanting to make any trouble. "My Dad told me that I shouldn't address my elders by their first names, anyway."

"As much as I do not wish to undermine the teachings of your father, I cannot have you feeling like a stranger in this house either, especially not with _me."_ She tapped a long, graceful finger to her chin, lost in deep thought for a moment, and then smiled angelically at him. "How does _Madam Minna_ sound to you?"

The name had a lovely, but regal resonance to it, just like the woman herself.

"I think I'd like that…Madam Minna." Miles nodded and returned her luminous smile, then turned his head and saw that Franziska was still staring at him, her huge eyes bright with curiosity, and looked away awkwardly. "Um…you said she's three, right? Does she…talk?"

"Franziska? _Talk?"_ Minna threw her head back and laughed heartily at the question. "She is a little bit shy around strangers, but is quite a little chatterbox once she warms up to you. She mostly speaks German right now, but we have a lovely governess who comes in every morning and goes through English lessons with her, and she's taken to it like a duck to water and is learning it rather quickly!"

She turned to the silent girl in her arms and pointed at Miles.

"Franziska, Miles is going to be your new big brother. _Großer Bruder_. Could you please say _hallo_ and make him feel welcome?"

" _Nein, Mama!"_ Franziska shook her head. " _Nicht großer Bruder! Ich war zuerst hier!"_

"Franziska!" Minna chided gently as a slight frown creased her smooth forehead. " _Das ist nicht nett!"_

" _Ich war zuerst hier_!" Franziska insisted stubbornly. " _Deshalb ist er mein **kleiner** Bruder! Und ich bin seine **große** Schwester!"_

Miles was utterly flummoxed by this incomprehensible exchange, even as Minna's expression of discontent was slowly replaced by one of wry amusement.

"What's she saying?" He asked uncomfortably when it appeared nobody was going to be offering him a translation.

"She said since _she_ was here first…" Minna began, but the toddler began squirming in her hold before her mother could finish the sentence.

" _Lass mich runter, Mama!"_ The toddler commanded, turning pleading eyes to her mother _. "Bitte?"_

Without another word, Minna bent over and placed the little girl on the floor. Undaunted, and now free to roam as she pleased, Franziska stepped right up to Miles and pointed at him, staring up into his face with serious gray eyes.

" _Willkommen, Kleiner Bruder,_ Miles _,_ " she said in her birdlike twitter. " _Ich bin Franziska. Ihre neue **Große Schwester**._"

"She said, _welcome, Little Brother Miles. I am Franziska_." Minna's eyes were dancing with barely suppressed laughter. " _Your new Big Sister_."

"Er, _danke_ , Franziska," Miles mumbled, using one of the few German words he knew.

Franziska placed one tiny hand up in the air, almost at the hip level. Assuming she was trying to grasp for his hand, which she obviously couldn't reach, Miles began to lean forward and stretched out his fingers for what he assumed was a handshake.

Instead, to his confused astonishment, Franziska raised her other hand, and, slightly clutching the bottoms of her skirt in each tiny fist, raised each side ever so slightly and gracefully bent her knees with one foot in front of the other as she ever so slightly dipped her head at the same time.

It was the first time he had ever seen a girl curtsy in his entire life.

It was simultaneously humorous, out of place - yet somehow _fitting -_ and _endearing_ , all at the same time.

Acting entirely out of reflex, Miles raised his right arm, placed it across his chest, and lowered his torso and head, bowing right back in return.

"That was so sweet!" Minna beamed, looking back and forth at the two children, her face aglow. "Her governess is British, very old-fashioned, and appears to have been working with my little girl on her etiquette and social skills as well as her English. I am not quite know how to say this because Western girls do not normally _curtsy_ in today’s modern age than boys _bow_ … yet _somehow_ , both movements appear to _suit_ _you_ _both,_ _ever so_ _well_! Miles Edgeworth, I daresay you were _born_ to be a gentleman of sorts."

"Perhaps. It only felt right to bow back in the presence of such a little _lady_. Maybe we should _both_ practice until it feels natural," Miles smiled back at Minna, then graciously inclined his head to the little girl as he searched through the recesses of his memory for the couple of other German words he knew. "What do you say, _meine Dame?"_

* * *

**April 16, 2005**

" _Das ist genug für jetzt!"_ The tall, hulking choreographer with the blond crew-cut clapped his hands impatiently. " _Machen Sie eine fünfminütige Pause!"_

" _Danke Gott_!" Katharina gasped breathlessly, collapsing right onto the floor in an exhausted, sweaty heap.

"Humph! _I_ , of course, am perfectly happy to keep going, but …" Meinhard Knut narrowed his eyes reproachfully at his two dance pupils. " _You drama queens_ are acting as if you will surely _drop dead_ from exhaustion if we do not take a break! Accordingly, if you both _insist_ , I _suppose_ we can do that – _nein_ , Miles!"

The dance teacher stormed over to the corner of the makeshift dance studio that was set up in the recreation room of the Von Karma mansion and snatched the bottle of water out of the teenage boy's hands.

"Do _not_ guzzle that water so heavily, _Dummkopf!_ You will get a cramp and be unable to resume _the dance_!"

 _You mean concentration torture camp, don't you_? Miles yearned to retort but wisely refrained from comment. He then made a point of demonstrating the visibly slowed down pace of which he was greedily chugging back the cold water from his bottle, once their _sadistic_ _drill sergeant_ of a dance instructor returned the precious liquid to him. He tipped his head back, uncaring that some of it trickled down his sweat-drenched chest and onto his thin tank top. The thin material clung to him in wet patches, and he remained entirely unaware that a set of young, appreciative eyes were watching this from a distance from the top of the stairs.

"Have mercy, Meinhard!" Katharina gasped, grabbing her towel and patting at her perspiring face. "Surely Miles and I need more than a mere _five minutes_ rest after such a grueling, nonstop set of dance steps for the past _hour straight_?"

 _Katharina what is wrong with you, you foolish fool of a girl?!_ Franziska peered down over the top of the railing and frowned at her sister with silent disapproval. _I cannot **believe** you are asking for a **longer** break from Miles' arms! I would never even **dream** of asking for rest if **I** were his dance partner! I would dance even with **a broken foot** to remain within his embrace!_

" _Dein Vater_ , Katharina, hired me to teach you children everything from Latin to Ballroom dance, because I am an award-winning dancer _and_ choreographer of the stage, _across the nation_!" Meinhard eyed her reproachfully. "He did _not_ hire me to pity an _undisciplined and unmotivated_ pupil who is _not_ willing to give me _110%!_ While the two of you have _somewhat_ flourished under my guidance, neither have yet to truly master the most _difficult dance of all!"_

Katharina's cheeks burned with angry humiliation at the reprimand, so the equally affronted Miles spoke up instead.

"You must be _jesting!”_ He panted, raking a hand through his sweaty hair. "At this point, Katharina and I could probably teach the lessons ourselves _– that's how_ well we dance the Foxtrot, Waltz, Viennese Waltz _, and_ Quickstep! What else could possibly be _left?!"_

"Do not get arrogant with me, _du vorlaut Junge!"_ The stern German waved his finger critically. "You are nowhere _near_ the ballroom instructor level, not until you fully master, _the Tango!"_ He walked over to the stereo in the corner of the room and switched the music to a pulsating Latin beat. " _Lasst uns gehen!"_

Franziska watched, completely spellbound as her _groaning sister_ and her _growing more handsome_ with each passing year _,_ Little Brother put their arms around each other. As they began the initial frame, she couldn't squelch the simultaneous pangs of marvel and envy as they moved in flawless, synchronized rhythm.

Ever the perfect Von Karma, Katharina possessed slightly more graceful moves than even her expert Tango partner in this particular dance, her movements so rapidly fluid that at one point, Miles stumbled trying to keep up.

" _Das hast du aber schön gemacht_ , Katharina!" Miles chuckled ruefully. "I had better step up if I wish to keep up with you!"

"The Tango is a _sensual_ dance, originated from the streets of Buenos Aires!" Meinhard lectured, coming behind Miles and forcefully pushing his body against the petite blonde teen so tightly that not _a Euro banknote_ could have been slipped betwixt them! "There should not be _any space_ between _you and your partner's_ bodies! Miles, you must hold her _tighter and closer_ if you wish to move in a proper, flowing motion."

The boy gulped and blushed slightly as he nervously pressed Katharina even closer to him, as instructed. She smiled encouragingly at him as the teacher nodded approvingly and clapped his hands.

" _Großartig!_ Here we go…and …two, three, four… _lunge!"_

This time, as though fueled by Meinhard's merciless tutorial, brother and sister now looked like nothing short of poetry in motion, performing the complex moves with such ease, it looked as though they had been performing together for their entire lives.

 _They look flawless together,_ Franziska thought glumly. _Why must my perfect big sister be so darn good at dancing and **everything she does**? Her body looks like it was meant for his! Humph! Now that they are as molded together as Siamese twins are, I see is no longer complaining about being too tired! Just look how close he's holding her! Is that evennecessary?!_

"Franziska!" Suddenly the young girl heard Helga's voice calling for her upstairs and froze, not wanting to be caught in the act of spying on Katharina and Miles. "Franziska, where are you? Arnulf is ready for your riding lesson!"

_Ngh! Shut up, Helga! You're going to get me **found out**! Then Miles will know how much time I've spent watching him and he's going to discover that I may have **slightly more than sisterly feelings** for him, and feel pity for me for being such a foolish, fanciful child, which would be more humiliating than anything I think I could ever bear! Not to mention the endless ribbingKatharina would subject me to if she knew that the alleged crush that she keeps teasing me about is true!_

With panther-like stealth she didn't even know she possessed, Franziska carefully turned around and silently crawled back up the remaining stairs on her hands and knees to make as little noise as possible, only rising back to her feet when she reached the door at the top, exited, and silently closed it behind her. She paused for a brief moment and finally expelled her bated breath before dashing to the kitchen and lifted her chin at the housekeeper.

" _Hallo_ , Helga, no need to shout so!" Her tone was brusque, as though _she_ had been the one waiting all along! "I am dressed and ready for my lesson, _danke_. I will go meet Arnulf at the stables now!"

Franziska dashed out the back door before the perceptive maid could ask where she had been up until that. She was slightly winded as she met up with the stable boy, who smiled pleasantly as he finished grooming Olaf, the beautiful chestnut gelding who had been her normal ride for the past year. The thoroughbred was all saddled up and ready for the usual canter around the massive grounds, but for some reason, she hesitated.

Even though she was only seven, Franziska was already an accomplished rider, and her thrice-weekly lessons at this point were merely a formality. Within just months, she'd moved on to an actual horse, as unlike most little girls her age, _her_ riding skills had surpassed a mere pony _already_! She could even ride bareback, although had only managed to do that _once_ before Arnulf had caught her and squawked with horror that her father would have _his_ head, and _her_ _hide_ , should he ever find out what she had done!

Every night, before bed, when she said her prayers, as Mama always instructed her to do, it was always the same thing. It rang in her ears now.

_"Dear God," She prayed every night. "Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life."_

The truth was that seeing her beloved sister locked in the arms of Miles, in his coveted embrace – albeit only for dancing purposes – had _spurned something_ inside her. Franziska wasn't a complete fool. She knew she was too young for him right now, and that there was nothing she could do, should he decide to turn his head towards her comely, _perfect_ older sister until she got older. However, at that moment, she desperately yearned to do _something_ to show that _she_ too, had impressive skills that were worthy of the Von Karma name, and should be taken notice of!

Moreover, she certainly wasn't going to be able to boast about any of her equestrian skills by riding the _same, tired old horse_ as always! She _longed_ , no – _needed_ – something new. _Some sort of challenge_.

As she adjusted the chin strap of her helmet and adjusted her riding breeches, her determined gaze fell upon her father's latest acquisition, two stables down – a bravura gelding of lustrous ebony coat and mane.

"Arnulf, I've decided I'm not going to take Olaf out today," she announced, steeling her jaw. "I would like you to saddle up Thor for me instead."

"T – Thor?" The young groom stammered, staring at her with disbelief. "But he's a new arrival, Franziska, and is not properly trained yet. Only the most experienced rider can handle a horse so large. Your _brother_ has not even taken him out yet!”

Hearing that only made the obstinate child further jut her chin. As much as her Little Brother caused tumultuous, inexplicable stirrings within her that she could not quite identify or understand, he also stirred her inner competitive nature as well, which she _could_ understand, _all too easily!_ She might be too young to best him on the dance floor just yet, but as much as he was a skilled horseman, she was positive that she was better. And she was going to _prove_ it!

"Explain to me why the size of the horse is a factor when the rider is an experienced one such as me?" Franziska inquired, already charging ahead to Thor's stable. She was too small to reach the saddles that were hanging up on the wall, but she was positive that if the groom refused to put one on the horse, she would just simply forge ahead and ride him bareback!

"Because he weighs over 1000 pounds!" Arnulf snapped, even as he helplessly watched her storm in, giving them no choice but to follow her. "Your small legs and heels shan't have any impact if you are to nudge him with them to try to guide him to your own will, can't you understand that?"

Franziska pushed a step stool up against the wall as her eyes landed upon the solution to this problem. Standing on her tiptoes, she grabbed the riding crop in one hand and flashed a triumphant smile.

"A horse of any size will surely respond to _this,_ " she pointed out, flicking her wrist expertly with the crop, delighted at how it whizzed through the air. She raised an eyebrow at the resigned-looking stable boy. "You _know_ I'm going to take him out whether you _allow_ me to or not! Tell you what; to ease your fears, you can even follow along with me on your own ride to keep watch of things. Regardless though, saddled up or not, _I am taking Thor out_ , and there's _nothing_ you can do to stop me!"

The poor groom moaned softly and dragged a hand down his face as he reluctantly threw a saddle onto the black horse.

"Just take him out for an easy trot to start," he bagged, his dark eyes darting nervously around, as though fearful that Manfred Von Karma would pop up out of nowhere, even though it was a Saturday afternoon and the prosecutor always spent his weekends at his gentleman's club. "Don't try to gallop or jump over any hurdles, _please_?"

Franziska wasn't listening. As she swung her leg onto the horse's back and skillfully grabbed the reins, she smiled reassuringly at the now terrified-looking young man.

"I promise you, I will be fine, Arnulf," she assured him. Then, with a light tap of the crop, she and Thor were gone with the wind.

Completely disregarding Arnulf's instructions, Franziska used the riding crop as though she had been _born_ with it in her hand. She seamlessly mastered the ability to make the horse move at an ambling gait before progressing to a trot easily enough at her command, and soon the gelding had graduated to moving into a canter at a higher speed than she had _ever_ managed with Olaf! She could hear the groom coming up behind her on his own mount, shouting with appreciation and awe as he drew near.

" _Ausgezeichnet_ , Franziska!" He cried, his face wreathed with admiration. " _Ich bin so stolz auf dich!_ I don't know how you've managed to make Thor look as easy as riding a pony, considering he's not yet fully trained, but you are a _complete natural equestrienne_! However, did you manage to do it?"

"Say _hallo_ to my little friend!" She laughed giddily as she waved the crop in the air. _"Mit meinem kleinen Freund in der Hand_ , I can make sure _anyone_ and _anything_ do my bidding!"

An hour later, flushed from her victory, Franziska rushed into the house, calling out her sister's name, forgetting the crop was still in her hand in her eager haste to boast about her latest triumph.

"Hans!" She called, nearly running over the butler in her quickened haste. " _Wo ist meine Schwester?"_

" _Im Erdgeschoss mit Ihrem Bruder im Studio_ ," he answered, then went back to watering the plants.

 _They're **still** dancing?_ Franziska felt bot surprised and envious that her sister was managing to snare so much time with the object of her affection. _Usually, their lessons are no more than 60 to 90 minutes?!_

Still, her excitement could not be curbed, and as she thundered down the stairs, this time not trying to hide her presence, she came upon the two teenagers with their arms locked around one another's, with her sister lecturing Miles about something called "spaghetti arms."

"I _am_ holding my frame!" The boy protested. "My arms are just exhausted from spinning and twirling you and bending you over them for nearly two hours straight!"

 _"Schwester!"_ Franziska cried, racing up to the two, and finding herself trotting around in a 360° turn trying to keep up with their movements as they insisted on continuing to dance in circular steps, despite the evident absence of the dance instructor. "Miles! Guess what?"

"Franziska, can this not wait?" Katharina didn't even turn her head in her younger sibling's direction as she continued to maneuver her feet. "Do you not see that we are in the middle of something?"

Miles didn't even reply, but the younger girl could see a bead of sweat streaking down the side of his face as he focused on keeping up with his partner.

"Your feet surely need a break by now!" Franziska insisted, lower lip beginning to protrude sulkily as she stopped trying to run in a circle alongside them to maintain the conversation. It was making her dizzy!

She was starting to get mad. Her sister had had Miles' attention for at _least_ two hours now, and they got to dance three times a week together! All she was asking for was _a lousy minute_!

In a defining act of petulance, she stomped over to the stereo and powered off the music, immediately bringing the room to abrupt silence, causing the teenage girl to squawk with dismay.

"Franziska Hildeberta Von Karma! That was beyond impudent!" The pretty blonde scowled. "Just _what_ was so important that you would find the need to interrupt in such an unseemly manner? Do you not understand how extra hard Miles and I have been working on this routine, because Papa wants us to perform at his colleague's silver wedding anniversary party next week?"

Franziska was startled by the sharpness of her sibling’s tone. Usually, Katharina was so indulgent and patient with her, but it seemed the strain of trying to achieve perfection for a dance performance intended to please their perfectionist father was beginning to take its toll on her nerves.

"I – I apologize, _Schwester,"_ she mumbled meekly, feeling her eyes well up with tears. "I –I just wanted to tell you and Miles that I had broken in Thor today – all by myself. That was all."

Utterly crestfallen, the young girl turned and started to head back up the stairs, but to her surprise, her Little Brother immediately halted.

"Franziska! Wait!"

"Miles!" The peeved Katharina put her hands on her hips. "Why are you stopping?"

"Katharina, I am so exhausted that I am beginning to see double at this point!" He informed his elder sibling. "I think we've done enough for today. If you want, we can squeeze in another couple of hours tomorrow before my fencing lesson. Don't you worry about that party; I am positive that we will give a riveting show!"

He then turned to Franziska, who was halfway up the stairs. His long legs strode towards her, and he joined her on the step, looking at her with a smile of pride.

"Did you _really_ break in Thor?" He asked, visibly impressed.

She nodded silently and dropped her eyes. Now that she had his attention, at last, she felt uncharacteristically shy.

 _"Das ist aber toll!"_ Miles praised. "I'm sure that was no easy feat."

Aside from when they were lovingly given by her mother, compliments were rarer than unicorns in the Von Karma household. Franziska was so unaccustomed to praise from any other source that she became suddenly overwhelmed and incapable of speech.

"Thor is a very big horse but I still managed," she finally managed to answer softly. "Nonetheless I will not lie and say that it was an easy task. It was most definitely a challenge."

"Thor is an absolute hulking _beast_ , so I have no doubt he gave _you_ as much of a workout as your sister and I had!" Miles laughed, his tone taking on a slightly mischievous edge now. "Look at you, you're even more red-faced and sweaty than _we_ are!"

He then reached over and affectionately tousled her damp, silvery strands, and Franziska felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair, partly due to the approbation still evident on his comely visage, and partly because she realized just how _dirty and smelly_ she must be, having come straight from the stables! It both embarrassed her and left her indignant for having such an inferior feeling overshadow her initial triumphant one!

_Darn that foolish fool for making me feel this way! If a side of derision must accompany his wonderment, then I want no part of it!_

"Do not dare to make fun of me, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska screeched, and then, in a gesture of uncontrolled irritation, she reflexively cracked the riding crop on the bare skin of his arm, making him yelp, although more from surprise than pain.

Katharina gasped in appalled disbelief.

"Franziska Von Karma, what has gotten _into_ you?" Her argentate eyes, identical to both Minna's and her sister's, were flashing with fury. "Where would you get the idea to even do such a churlish thing? Is _this_ what all your years of decorum training with your English governess have resulted in? Apologize to Miles _immediately_ , unless you want me to tell Papa and Mama what a naughty little girl you are being!"

Franziska gulped. Her Mama would be sorely disappointed in her behavior, which was bad enough, but the idea of her father's wrathful reaction was too terrifying for words.

"I – I am very sorry," she whispered, peering up at Miles with apprehensive orbs. "Please pardon me, Little Brother."

"Don't worry about it," Miles replied easily. "It didn't really hurt. It's not like you were using _a whip_ or anything!" He turned to Katharina. "I'll see you here, same time tomorrow. I need to go take a shower and cool off!"

He then flashed one final teasing smile at Franziska. "I suggest your hot-headed self takes one too, _Pferdemädchen_."

Grinning impishly, he then quickly booked it up the stairs before Franziska could give him another lash for that final parting wisecrack!

"You will _pay_ for that insolent remark, Miles Edgeworth!" She threatened after his retreating form, then turned to face her sister, whose visible annoyance appeared to have vanished, replaced by a knowing smirk. "I cannot believe that foolish fool just called me a _horse girl!"_

"Well, considering you _smell_ like _nothing_ but, I am surprised he did not think of something _worse_!" Katharina tittered softly, reaching over and pulling her sister into a quick hug. "I am so sorry I was short with you, Franziska. I have been a complete tyrant with poor Miles, too, running him nearly ragged with dance practice because I am so stressed about meeting Papa's high expectations! However, I _should_ always try to take the time to cheer on my little sister for her admirable accomplishments. That is quite the achievement you made with Thor! _Gut gemacht!"_

" _Danke_ , _Schwester."_ Franziska returned the embrace, then stepped back and shuffled her feet uncomfortably. "However, I am very sorry for the way I acted, and for interrupting your practice. I did not know you had such a big, important show coming up."

" _Ich vergebe dir_. I think Miles was more than willing to forgive you as well since your perfectly timed interruption gave him the reprieve he needed before he passed out from exertion!" Katharina giggled. "Besides, I know you _very well_ , Franziska! I have very little doubt about what motivated you to act like such a spoiled brat just now. You _do_ realize that there is nothing to be jealous of with Miles and me, _ja_? Unlike _you_ , _I_ see him as nothing more than my little brother. Plus, you seem to have forgotten that I already have a boyfriend!"

"Do not be foolish!" Franziska felt her cheeks turning red and felt a loss for words once again. "I – I was merely excited, and I wanted to show both of you that I too, could excel at something, that's all!"

"You wanted Miles' attention." It was a statement, not a question. "Franziska, I do not think he noticed, but _I_ saw you peeping at us earlier during our lesson. I gather that you have… special feelings for him. It is perfectly normal. And for what it is worth, I am pretty sure he is completely oblivious to it. Boys can be _quite_ daft in that sense."

"Unlike _you_ , the ever-observant psychologist in training?" Franziska grinned, seeing no point in denying anything anymore. She knew her steadfast sister could be trusted to keep her little crush a secret.

"Well, I _am_ a Von Karma, after all!" Katharina snickered. "But please keep in mind that right now, the age difference between the two of you is quite vast, little one. Nevertheless, if you _do_ want some romantic advice to help you in your _later_ years, heed this hint – most boys do _not_ like girls who _smell like horses all the time_!"

"What nonsense!" Franziska huffed. "I refuse to give up my riding passion for _any_ foolish boy!"

"Nobody said you had to give up the things you love," Katharina advised, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her sister's ear. "Alas, it may not hurt to be gracefully _light on your feet for_ when the day comes that a boy _sweeps you off them!_ "

She left the room then, leaving her little sister to mull that one over.

That very night, Franziska Von Karma announced to Manfred that she wanted to commence taking ballroom dance lessons, post-haste!

* * *

**December 20, 2007**

That day was what should have been Minna Von Karma's 39th birthday. Even if Franziska had not heard the servants murmuring sadly around her, she still would've known the unforgettable date.

Earlier that evening, she had gotten a call from the emotional, teary Katharina, promising she'd be home the next night when her school let out for the Christmas holidays, which was a comforting notion. Nevertheless, her beloved sister's absenteeism, coupled with her father's blatant nonattendance at the mansion that particular night, felt like a double sucker-punch to the gut.

Franziska knew that all increased time Manfred spent drowning his alleged sorrows at his gentleman's club was all a farce. Papa couldn't have appeared to care less that the most important person in her life was no longer with them. He hadn't said a word about that day's significance to his daughter. He hadn't even cared to ask how his youngest child was dealing with Minna's very first birthday when she was no longer with them or bothered inquiring about the level of the devastation she might thus be feeling.

It shouldn't have surprised her. Papa had never paid mind to birthdays. She wasn't even sure if he'd even remembered what day it was.

Therefore, it seemed her grief was her cross to bear alone. She held her head high and tried to keep a stiff upper lip in Manfred's presence in her efforts to convince him that she was every bit the strong, unflappable Von Karma he'd always commanded her to be and refused to fall apart like a house of cards.

 _Big girls don't cry,_ Papa had repeatedly told her.

Those words had stuck with her. Consequently, ever since that fateful day when she had broken down upon finding out that Manfred was not the man she'd always thought he was, Franziska had not allowed herself to shed even a tear since.

Her mood and feelings towards her father had greatly soured since she had made that earth-shattering discovery in his study several months ago, revealing the evidence of his infidelity to the woman that had been Franziska's whole world. It was unfortunate, the rarely present Manfred being all she had, as with Miles having been sent away to boarding school in England, and her sister no longer residing at the mansion, she often felt like a tiny pea rattling around a gigantic hollow watermelon shell in this enormous pile of bricks that for her, was now merely a house that no longer felt like home.

Franziska struggled with her emotions for the man that she called Papa daily. She loved him, and she hated him. She wanted to please him, yet couldn't care what he thought of her. She thought he was a genius, but a hypocrite.

It was more than any nine-year-old should have ever had to deal with, and sleeplessness was the unfortunate result of it all, along with overwhelming feelings of loneliness and melancholy that never seemed to abate.

But by far, the worst was her insomnia. There were shadows underneath the girl's eyes from her restless nights, which had only worsened since Minna's untimely passing, and last night had been worse than most. She had thrashed and flailed about for hours, but to no avail. Once more, sleep completely evaded her.

Franziska tossed and turned but just couldn't find the right position. A lingering haze of sleep sat somewhere at the back of her mind but was too far away to reach, floating in the pool of her memories. Icy discomfort blossomed in her chest and made it difficult for her to breathe. Trying to make herself fall into slumber, she took as deep breaths as she could, but many just caught in her throat, like a chilly wind had blown down there that managed to freeze the air solid. At that moment, she knew this was going to be a long night.

_I miss you so much, Mama! With you no longer here, sleep becomes a fleeting chore. I wrestle at nights with the dark and the light trying to find comfort from either side but most times I lose the fight. I have become content with my sleepless nights where I find comfort in my thoughts and memories of the past. Things seem clearer but only for a while as I fight to take control of the lethargy that creeps up and creates night-time horrors during my sleepless hours. The dark consumes but sleep still eludes, it appears it has divorced itself from me. I'm sleepless at a time when rest is all I need to refuel me to make it through one more day without you._

Choking back a sob, she swung her legs over the side of her bed, quietly opened her bedroom door, and crept downstairs. The servants were all in their beds, of course, and she didn't want to waken them, but she thought perhaps a cup of hot milk might soothe her back to sleep. Her mother had always brought her up a mug before bedtime, then sang softly at her bedside until her eyes drifted closed. Such a beautiful voice Minna had had, especially when she sang Franziska's favorite lullaby, _'Weißt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen.'_ Mama had sounded just like an angel, whose ranks she had now joined in heaven…

_Stop torturing yourself like this Franziska! Just get your milk and go back to bed, where hopefully, sleep will finally release you from one of the most painfully depressing days of your entire life!_

As she tiptoed through the silent manor and towards the kitchen, she could have sworn that she heard a very faint sound in the distance. Franziska tilted her head towards it. It appeared to be coming from the music room. The door was closed, but the soft melody was achingly familiar. Creeping closer, she slowly turned the doorknob and found Miles seated at the piano, eyes closed, so lost in the song that he was playing that he didn't even notice he had an audience. When had he come home? Franziska had known he would be arriving that night for winter break but had fallen asleep attempting to wait up for him A quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner showed her that it was now 11:30.

_He must've caught the late flight and arrived after I went to bed._

Miles hadn't bothered turning on the lights in the room, and Franziska couldn't help but stand in the doorway and just stare at the mesmerizing sight of him seated on the bench, illuminated by the silvery beam of light streaming in, which was quite bright that night due to the full moon. The calm song he was playing, the gentle movements of his fingers on the keys, and the beautiful lighting offered a very serene sight. Despite her unwitting discovery about the distasteful affair that had transpired between Miles and Gretchen, there was no doubt that he had been a most diligent music pupil. She leaned on the doorframe and allowed herself to smile a little bit; she had forgotten how much she'd loved to hear him play.

As the boy continued to play the hauntingly beautiful tune with precise expertise, the child felt a lump forming in her throat as she recognized the song that Minna used to sing to her on nights when she couldn't sleep and sniffled slightly. She hadn't realized she had made any noise, but Miles still heard her. Startled, his eyes flew open and his hands fell limply from the keys, his face a mask of contrition as he spun around on his seat to face her.

"I'm so sorry, Franziska. I thought the sound was muted enough if I kept the door closed. I never intended to wake anyone."

"You – you did not," she mumbled. "I – I could not sleep, so I came downstairs for some milk, and then I heard you. I apologize if I startled you. I never meant for you to stop playing. I – I love that song – _'Weißt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen._ In English, the title is ' _Do You Know How Many Stars Are_?' It's the one Mama used to sing to me most often."

"I know it very well." He smiled sadly. "When I first came here, I had many night terrors about my father. I would wake up screaming and often crying. Your mother always seemed to sense when I was most distressed, and would often come to me in the middle of the night, and comfort me with this song, too. For me, she was singing the English version, because I didn't speak much German back then."

Miles patted the bench as he shifted slightly, indicating she should come to sit next to him.

"I knew today was her birthday. And I guess I just wanted to play something that reminded me of happier times with her. I – I wanted something to remember her by today."

"Could you play it again for me?" Franziska hesitantly sat down next to him and smiled bashfully. "I always did love listening to you play."

"I will play it as many times as you like," he replied kindly. "But only if you sing along while I do."

"I am not sure." She ducked her head with uncertainty. "I do not have Mama's beautiful voice."

"Let _me_ be the judge of that. How about we sing together? I will sing the English lyrics right after you start the German ones, and it will be a singing round. I think Madam Minna would have liked that."

"OK." Franziska nodded hesitantly. "Let us begin."

Miles started the song from the beginning once more, and Franziska desperately fought back the tears mounting in her throat as she sang in her soft, childlike voice.

* * *

_Weißt du, wieviel Kinder frühe  
stehn aus ihrem Bettlein auf,  
daß sie ohne Sorg und Mühe  
fröhlich sind im Tageslauf?  
Gott im Himmel hat an allen  
seine Lust, sein Wohlgefallen;  
kennt auch dich und hat dich lieb,  
kennt auch dich und hat dich lieb.  
 **Wie Sie wissen, tue ich das  
Wie Sie wissen, tue ich das**_

* * *

Miles' warm, soothing baritone warmed Franziska's heart as he sang the English version. She had always loved his voice, but his time in England had given it a smoother, more polished edge, with just a hint of a British accent, which only enhanced his singing voice to her enchanted child ears.

* * *

_Do you know how many children_   
_Wake up early from their little beds,_   
_Who are without worry and sorrow_   
_And happy during the day?_   
_God in Heaven has everybody's_   
_Pleasure and welfare in mind;_   
_He knows you and loves you too,_   
_He knows you and loves you too._

* * *

When they finished, Miles turned to her with a puzzled glance.

"I'm afraid I didn't know the last two lines that you sang? Was there a part of the song that your mother edited out when she would sing it to me?"

"N – No." Franziska shook her head as she felt the hot stinging sensation prickling behind her eyes. "I just added that part right now, because we were singing the song … for my Mama. And I wanted her to know how much I still love her, even though she's not with me anymore."

She swallowed hard.

"The final line speaks of God, ' ** _kennt auch dich und hat dich lieb -_** _'He knows you, and loves you too.'_ Ergo, the last two lines were directed from _me_ to _her,_ in case she can hear me. **_‘Wie Sie wissen, tue ich das’–_** it – it means, _‘as you know, I do that'."_

Miles regarded her with empathetic eyes and placed his hand on hers.

"I'm sure Madam Minna heard you. Just remember that she loved you very much, Franziska. And as long as you keep her in your heart, she will always be with you."

After all these months of trying to repress her tears, his simple words, spoken with such sincere compassion and sympathy, were Franziska's undoing. As much as she tried to hold it in, the agonized whimper came out like a strangled cry from her throat. The beads of water started falling down her cheeks, one after another, without a sign of stopping. The muffled sobs wracked against her chest.

"Let it out, _Große Schwester,"_ he whispered. "I can tell you've needed this."

"I – I should not cry!" Her chin trembled as she regarded him with liquid silver eyes. "P – Papa said Big Girls don’t cry!"

Wordlessly, Miles took her unresisting form in his arms, and for the first time in forever, she felt safe and her sadness disappeared like rain on summer earth. In his warm embrace, she was cocooned better than any butterfly-to-be. The simple touch sent a wave of butterflies coursing through her veins, their fluttering wings easing the wretchedness that had settled inside her. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling her calm down instantly at his touch. Gently, he rubbed the tears away with his fingers and started rocking back and forth. Now her tears had stopped, leaving only their tell-tale wet tracks down her face. Soon, wrapped in his warm embrace, the music room was filled with nothing but the soothing sounds of both of their own deep and even breaths.

"People don't cry because they're weak, Franziska," Miles murmured as he stroked her satiny hair. "It's because they've been strong for too long."

Franziska sniffled and then did something she'd been yearning to do for the last six years since the minute she'd first laid eyes on his gawky, gangly form standing in her front hallway. She drew back, and gently kissed Miles Edgeworth on the forehead, closing her eyes to savor the clean, crisp scent of his warm skin against her fleeting lips.

_"Vielen Dank. Ich liebe dich, Kleiner Bruder."_

_"Ich liebe dich auch, Große Schwester."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roberta Flack - The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
> 
> Translations (thanks again, RoterSchmetterling!)
> 
> Das ist genug für jetzt! Machen Sie eine fünfminütige Pause! – That is enough for now! Take a five-minute break!
> 
> du vorlaut Junge! – you cheeky boy!
> 
> Lasst uns gehen! – Let's go!
> 
> Das hast du aber schön gemacht, Katharina! – You made that beautiful, Katharina!
> 
> Ausgezeichnet, Franziska! – Excellent, Franziska!
> 
> Ich bin so stolz auf dich! – I am so proud of you!
> 
> Mit meinem kleinen Freund in der Hand - With my little friend in hand
> 
> Das ist aber toll! – But that's great!
> 
> Gut gemacht! – Good job!
> 
> Ich vergebe dir – I forgive you.


	115. Time After Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As I further delve into Fredgeworth's courtship backstory, I realize that since it stems 100% from my imagination, I must be honest and confess that it is therefore so much harder to create than the one I did for Nick and Maya, as Miles and Franziska have essentially zero canon for me to work with! The good news, I have the third chapter I promised you guys this week. More good news… The perfect prosecutors I feel have a beautiful love story which is quite comparable to the one Phoenix and Maya have and I am hoping you all like it!  
> The bad news is the mystery of what Miles was looking at shan't be solved until early next week simply because Miles and Franny have such an incredible and detailed story to tell, that this chapter got very long, and I had to cut it into several parts for length purposes. This is another long read, as most of the chapters will be going forward because I am in the heart of the story, but I hope my work continues to give you entertainment and, in this case, some good weekend reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, can you hear me?  
> I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be  
> When we were younger and free  
> I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet
> 
> There's such a difference between us  
> And a million miles
> 
> Hello from the other side  
> I must have called a thousand times  
> To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done  
> But when I call you never seem to be home  
> Hello from the outside  
> At least I can say that I've tried
> 
> To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart  
> But it don't matter.  
> It clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore

**_Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ April 14, 2026

Miles buried his head in his hands, lost in a wave of melancholy as bittersweet memories flooded his anguished mind.

 _Franziska_ , he despaired. _How has it come to this? The world is empty without your love. All this time that we've been apart, there was never a day that passed that you did not occupy my every thought. How I feared the distance would do us more harm than good while I was away all this time, given our fragile state when I left. I thought you understood! I believed you **said** you supported my decision to go back! We both willingly **chose** this, we **chose** to separate for the good of the mission, but it hurt me every single day to have been without you. More than anything, I wished that we could be together, in the same dimension and time. This game has owned us for too long, my love. I am lost without you, so very lost. That must be what it means to be two halves, only with unity are we whole, only with unity are we found…_

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
February 13, 2009

" _Rührt,_ Franziska!" Katharina laughingly chastised as she lightly rapped on her 11-year-old sister's rigid arm. " _I_ am supposed to be the male partner here; therefore, you must allow _me_ to lead you, and not the other way around. Move closer to me!"

"I _am_ relaxed!" The pre-teen scowled, shrugging and then releasing her shoulders to loosen them as she'd been commanded. "It is just nigh impossible to get close enough to you or maneuver around that enormous stomach of yours!"

"As if it is not already difficult enough for me to move about, given my condition, but now I am forced to also contend with your surly disposition?" Katharina teased. "You know you must be acting like quite the raging hormonal pre-adolescent to be hearing this from the mouth of a hormonal woman who is with child!"

"I am neither surly nor hormonal!" Franziska denied hotly. "You are simply not leading me properly!"

"Because you will not relax your posture and allow yourself to be led!" Katharina exclaimed, the good humor fading from her face and slowly being replaced by an expression of aggravation. "It is fine to demonstrate your impressive dancing lessons in action, little one, but just remember to leave your inner feminist on the sidelines tonight with your partners! Remember, he is the boss on the dance floor, if nowhere else!"

Franziska blew upward at her sweaty bangs in annoyance, before turning to the petite, sweet-faced, young girl standing off to the side of the studio, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth as she observed the sister's exchange.

"Adelaide, is there no way I can convince _you_ to be my dance partner?" The silver-haired girl asked, finally giving up and dropping her hands from Katerina's shoulders in exasperation. "I merely wanted to get some last-minute preparation of my steps tonight before we head out."

"I don't think my fragile ego could handle your criticism, Franziska," the younger Von Karma's friend shook her head. "If you're finding fault with your sister, who has taken lessons, I cannot imagine what you would think of my completely amateur, never before instructed, dancing footwork!"

"Humph!" Franziska folded her arms across her chest and sulked. "This is quite the dilemma, as it is nigh impossible to practice my acquired dance skills, what with my partner being shaped like a human beach ball!"

"Anneliese, ignore your cranky _Tante_ Franziska," Katharina giggled, rubbing her protruding abdomen and directing her comment towards her seven-month pregnant belly. "It is not your fault that my gestational physique is causing her such stress and angst! She is merely morphing into even more of a nitpicky perfectionist than even your _Großvater_ Manfred!"

The elder Von Karma then turned her smirking face towards her sibling's classmate.

"I cannot say I blame you for refusing to be a potential victim to her ornery _verbal_ lashes, Addie. There's no reason _your_ confidence should be blown to smithereens _,_ right before what is supposed to be a festive and romantic event!"

" _Well_ ," Addie coyly dropped her eyes. "I also promised my boyfriend, Élie, that I would save all my dances tonight for _him_ , exclusively."

 _It's so unfair_! Franziska grumpily fumed. _At least my friend **knows** she will have someone to dance with tonight! **I** have to deal with the fact that I might be doing all this preparation for naught! What if nobody asks me to dance tonight? What would be the point of having all the capability, if I am not allowed to demonstrate it? Oh, this is such a foolish thing to be doing! I cannot believe I let Addie talk me into going to this foolish, juvenile school event when I **should** instead be spending the evening studying my law books if I intend to be a prosecutor in the next two years!_

"What's this I hear about romance?"

The unexpected sound of the refined baritone reverberated through Franziska's bones as Miles strolled into the room at that moment. He smiled at the three females, before placing kisses on both of Katharina's cheeks in greeting and graciously bowing in his now customary manner at Addie, who pretended not to swoon at the chivalrous gesture, which suited to the debonair teenage law student all too well.

"It's very nice to see you again, Addie. _Schwester_ , I cannot get over that glow of yours – you look radiant."

" _Danke, Bruder,_ " the mama-to-be responded, returning the European-style exchange and beaming at him. "It is nice to hear that one of my siblings thinks pregnancy agrees with me, as opposed to comparing me with large inflatable and spherical objects!"

"So I heard." Miles snickered. "Although for the record, we should attempt to forgive Franziska's most unflattering description of your delicate condition, in light of her tense and distraught state."

"Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska flushed with shame at how much of her unbecoming behavior he may have been witnessed. "How long have you been standing in the shadows like a _Peeping Tom_ of sorts, rather than properly making your presence known to us, you foolish fool?"

"Long enough to hear that my _Große Schwester_ appears more _anxious_ than _excited_ about attending her very first school dance." Miles arched a well-groomed eyebrow. "I apologize if my presence surprised you so, but I would have thought by now, you would know that I usually come visit during school half-term."

Franziska's cheeks further reddened. Indeed, she had been so frazzled about the evening's activities that it had wholly slipped her mind about when her Little Brother's next appearance at the mansion would be. Over the past few years, even though his legal studies had taken him out of the country, she was normally on top of keeping track of his holiday schedule, as she fervently looked forward to his visits, as they were the highlighted moments of her life – _not_ that she would ever let _him_ know that! The smug, derisive expression Katharina was presently directing at her was bad enough already!

"I have better things to do with my time than memorize your traveling schedule, _Kleiner Bruder,_ " she replied hotly, hating whenever he had the upper hand. "But if you _must_ know, yes, I have finally let Addie talk me into attending one of the school dances this evening, and hence, wished to perfect my dance technique."

"It was a hard-earned victory, finally convincing Franziska to act her actual age and not feign that she is 11 going on 21 for one evening amongst regular children!" Addie inserted with a wry smile, ignoring the look Franziska shot her. "Hence, tonight will be her grand debut at an elementary school society occasion. Ergo, she wants everything to be perfect."

 _"Naturally,"_ Miles responded with a knowing grin. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to have a mini dress rehearsal before the main event. So what appears to be the problem?"

"Franziska finds her sister's belly gets in the way whenever she tries to practice her dance steps with her," Addie answered, with the childlike candidness of a sixth-grader. She shrugged helplessly at her foster brother. "Perhaps now that you're here, _you_ could take over as partner? Assuming, of course, Katharina has no objections?"

"None whatsoever!" The pregnant blonde responded dryly. "Miles, perhaps she will loosen up and be less of a stiff piece of plywood in _your_ arms than she was in _mine_."

"I would be happy to experience the result of four years under my former dance instructor's tyrannical tutelage." Miles quirked an eyebrow playfully at Franziska, who was blushing furiously now. "Shall we dance then?"

The teasing cadence in his familiar tone made Franziska feel as though she'd been carried off to a world where sound was the only power that could change everything wrong in the world. How she loved Miles' voice. How she loved _him_ , as much as her young and giving heart could love a man who only saw her as nothing more than a child.

Therefore, the chance to be in his arms was something she craved more than the air she breathed. She squeaked and then flushed lightly when she realized Miles was still waiting for an answer.

"I _suppose_ you'll _have_ to do," she huffed, as though _she_ were doing _him_ a favor while she obediently placed her small hand in his, and her sister turned the music up on the stereo.

"I always _loved_ this song growing up!" Katharina gushed as "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper began to play. "I think it's such a beautiful, song, but it is also full of melancholy if you truly listen to the lines."

"It is nice," Addie conceded. "But I don't know if I understand what it all means."

"The lyrics pretty much describe two people that can't keep the same pace within their relationship," Katharina told her. "One character is essentially miles ahead while the other struggles to keep up."

"Oh, I see."

The two girls lapsed into silence then as they smilingly watched Miles effortlessly glide and lead the now fully relaxed Franziska about the studio floor in a smooth waltz. The dancers moved like water transformed by the music, flowing in graceful arcs, limbs in constant motion, painting a picture that sound alone could never achieve.

Despite being deliriously happy, Franziska was slightly embarrassed as she realized just _how much_ she was actually reveling in being in Miles' arms for so long, for possibly the longest time _ever_ since she'd known him! She relished the warmth he emitted from every part of his body. It was as if the temperature at her waist where he had rested his left hand, and her other hand, which was clasped against his own, had gotten substantially _higher_ by one or two degrees! She also enjoyed feeling the hard muscles of his back as she rested her hand there, unable to resist ever so slightly trailing her palm up and down, while barely resisting the temptation to slide her hand to his abs to see if the _front_ of him was as equally _toned and firm_!

She was so lost in thought that she stumbled slightly in her footsteps. Fortunately, Miles caught her.

* * *

**_If you're lost you can look - and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting  
Time after time_ **

* * *

"Are you all right, Franziska?"

"Of course I am, you fool!" She replied loftily, dropping her eyes as she felt her cheeks grow warm. "But _try_ to have _some courtesy_ , as my legs are nowhere _near_ as long as yours, so will you _slow down_? This is a _dance_ , not a _race_ , Little Brother!"

* * *

**_You said go slow -  
I fall behind  
The second hand unwinds_ **

* * *

" _You said go slow,"_ Miles smiled as he obediently did as requested, shortening his strides, seemingly unaware that he was voicing the song lyrics playing simultaneously at that moment. " _I fall behind."_

When the song was over, Katharina and Addie both applauded enthusiastically, although Franziska was loath to let Miles go. When she reluctantly dropped his hand, at last, she looked straight into his eyes, a deeply grateful and very soft look in her eyes, accompanied by a sweet smile upon her lips; a smile she rarely used.

" _Danke, Kleiner Bruder_ ," she whispered.

"My pleasure." He bowed grandly in return.

"I guess all it took was an actual _male_ to lead her! Good job, Miles!" Katharina praised. "Good job _both_ of you! I have no doubt that any boy that dances with you tonight, little one, is a very lucky one indeed!"

"I second that motion," Miles said kindly, then looked at his watch and frowned. "I'm glad that went well. I need to go get ready now, as I have plans this evening."

" _Plans_ , you say? On _Valentine's_ weekend?" Katharina grinned impishly. "This would not happen to be a _date_ perchance would it, _Bruder_?"

 _A **date**?_ _With a **girl**_ **?** Franziska's heart sank as her miserable eyes searched Miles' face, which was slowly turning pink under his older sister's scrutiny. _No! Please say no!_

"I don't know if I would quite call it a _date per se_ ," he mumbled uncomfortably. "It's just one of my peers at law school, who is also home visiting their family during the break. They proposed we get together for some sort of hot beverage and go over our study notes, in preparation for our upcoming tests, which commence when we return back to school."

"I _see_ ," Katharina derided, her eyes dancing with merriment at his obvious discomfort. "Does this _peer_ of yours have a _name_?"

 _Mein Gott! Let him say a **boy's** name!_ Franziska silently prayed. _Please! Please! **Please**!_

"Her name is Susan Liddy-Gates," Miles finally answered, after what seemed like the world's longest silence.

"What an _interesting_ name," the elder sibling commented, biting back a smirk. "It sounds like that of a _very aggressive woman lawyer_."

_I think the name sounds **dumm und hässlich** and like a woman that would have a most abominably belligerent disposition! Besides, it's **not even German**!_

"I suppose you could say that is a fitting description for her," Miles chuckled ruefully. "She is indeed very _bellicose_ about everything she does, academically as well as in her personal life, seeing as how she is my _solitary_ competition for class valedictorian and has insisted that _she_ be the one to come and fetch me tonight."

He glanced down at his watch again.

" _Ach nein!_ She will be here in less than half an hour! Susan is notoriously punctual, ergo; I cannot be tardy and keep her in wait! Excuse me ladies, but I must go prepare myself for the evening. Addie, Franziska enjoy the dance!" He bent over and kissed Katharina on the cheek one more time. " _Schwester_ , it is always a pleasure to see you. My regards to Günther. _Auf Wiedersehen!"_

And he bolted up the stairs.

"Franziska, we should get you ready as well. That _is_ why you ordered me to come over, after all." Katharina turned to face her sister, who was staring forlornly at the staircase, looking heartsick. "You need to take a shower first before I can do your hair…"

Her voice trailed off as she saw the desolate expression on the girl's face, and a compassionate look came to her eyes.

"Oh, little one, please do not be so downtrodden. You heard him say he did not even consider it to be a date!"

"That's true!" Addie piped up encouragingly, no stranger to her friend's not so secret crush. "And even if it _is_ a date, it's not like he's getting married!"

Franziska nodded unhappily, even as she fought back tears and put on her bravest Von Karma face.

"What foolishness is this that the two of you are speaking of?" She tossed back her hair and raised her chin proudly. " _Meine Kleiner Bruder's_ comings and goings are of no consequence to me in the least! Miles Edgeworth can date or wed whomever he pleases!" She forced a smile for her both their benefits and strode past their confused-looking faces towards the stairs. "Come along Addie, we have a dance to get ready for!"

* * *

**_Later That Evening…_ **

_Where **is** he? That **Schlampe** in the tacky, lime green Mercedes picked him up way before we left for the dance, and it's now a **quarter after midnight!**_ Franziska peered out her bedroom window, which faced the front entrance and driveway, for the umpteenth time. As silly as it was to be waiting up for Miles' return that night, she just couldn't help herself. She'd just had one of the _worst nights of her entire life_ , and nothing but the sight of her Little Brother's handsome face would possibly make her feel better.

She idly flipped through a few of her law books, trying to ignore the clock. Her father, of course, was nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered, as she didn't want to face him with this mask of dejection that she was neither able to remove, nor explain. After all, how could a man with so much influence and power possibly comprehend that for once, the illustrious Von Karma name appeared to have _closed_ more doors, rather than _opened_ them, for his daughter that night? That it was a name that struck _fear_ in the hearts of _every boy in school_ , making Franziska about as _approachable as a leper_.

At least, that was the excuse the sympathetic Adelaide had tried to mollify her with that night, even though she wasn't sure if that was the case, or if her friend had been merely trying to placate her. The youngest Von Karma no longer knew what to think about _anything_ anymore.

Just then, she saw headlights in the driveway flashing through her window, and raced back to it, making sure she remained barely visible as she peeked behind the heavy curtain.

Miles had finally returned home.

As the car stopped in the long driveway, she saw the passenger door open and watched as he stepped out of the vehicle, but to her surprise, the same bony (and way too scantily dressed for a mere study session!) girl who'd picked him up earlier in the evening exited the vehicle as well. As her overly tall, flat as a board and scarecrow built rival named Susan accompanied Miles to the front door and stood under the glaring porch light, the brunette once again gave Franziska confirmation that she was suffering from an incurable case of _Backpfeifengesicht_ syndrome!

Miles nodded politely at his companion, and then turned back towards the door, when Susan abruptly grabbed his face, then planted what looked like the world's most sloppy, disgusting, kiss right on his unsuspecting lips!

Franziska's fingers positively _itched_ for her riding crop!

She drew back from the curtain and made a face, both jealous and repulsed at the sight, unable to tell from this angled distance whether Miles was enjoying, or even reciprocating, the kiss! When she dared peek from behind the drapes one more time, she saw that the horny _Miststück_ was still attempting to chew Miles' face right off, like some sort of grotesque, horror reenactment from _Silence of the Lambs_!

 _Ew! Yuck!_ _Is she training to be a deep-sea scuba diver of some sort?! I haven't seen her come up for air yet! If I didn't already think she had a face that should get a slap that whistles across the cheek before, I most certainly do now! Ngh! Get off my Little Brother_ , _you horse-faced … Hure!_

After what seemed like a million years, Franziska was relieved to see that Miles was the one to break away from the embrace, nod his head once more, and then put his key into the front door. She stepped away from the window again and then waited impatiently, making sure that the overhead light in her room was on so that he would know she was still awake when he finally came upstairs. _Finally_ , she heard a knock at her door.

Franziska quickly made sure that she was settled comfortably on her bed with a law textbook in her lap, which she attempted to appear entirely engrossed in.

"Come in!" She called, in as casual a voice as she could muster.

Miles opened the door and stepped in, one hand conspicuously hidden behind his back.

"You are still awake?" He said with surprise. "I thought you would have been in bed ages ago."

"It is the weekend now, so why wouldn't I be up?" She replied offhandedly. "I am often awake at _least_ this late so I can study my books. I'm not a _child_ anymore, you know!"

"Apologies, _Große Schwester_ , for even _implying_ such a thing," he grinned. "I was going to sneak _this_ into your room to surprise you for when you arose in the morning, but since you're awake, I suppose I can just give it to you now since it's now officially Valentine's Day."

"You got me a present?" Franziska sprung up from the bed, her earlier misery forgotten, and rushed over to him, bouncing on her heels with excitement, before realizing what she was doing, and attempted to affect a more neutral tone. "I mean, oh, did you have a surprise for me? How very thoughtful of you."

"Not so much of a present – just a mere token." Miles chuckled and reached behind his back, presenting a single, long-stemmed red rose to the completely stunned and elated Franziska. "Happy Valentine's Day, _Große Schwester_."

"T – thank you so much. It's beautiful." Her hand was shaking as she accepted the flower, the first one she had ever received in her whole life. "B – But why…?"

"I went to a café tonight with Susan so that we could compare study notes. A flower vendor came into the place, obviously capitalizing on the fact that it was Valentine's Day weekend and asked me if I would care to buy a pretty flower for my pretty lady friend, and since he put me on the spot like that in such a crowded and public place, I felt obligated to do so." Miles shrugged. "I figured since I was already exercising my magnanimous streak, I may as well kill two birds with one stone, and also get one for an even prettier little lady."

Upon hearing the compliment, Franziska felt her cheeks turning a bright crimson that undoubtedly matched the velvet dress she had worn to the dance, which she still wore.

" _Danke_ , Miles." Dropping her bashful gaze, she took the proffered floral stem, took a sniff of its divine fragrance, and smiled delightedly. "This is so thoughtful of you."

_At least **somebody** \- in all actuality, the sole person whose opinion I even care about – thinks I am not completely repulsive! If only **he** could have been there tonight with me…_

"It's the truth. I like the way Katharina did your hair tonight, braided and tied back with the velvet ribbon. It's quite fetching. However, I'm afraid I made a grievous error with the other rose recipient, as she seemed to have mistaken my intentions for being more than they were…" His voice trailed off and his features twisted into a slight grimace. "But that's neither here nor there…"

"No, please…I _want_ to hear more about your date," Franziska interjected quickly, a glimmer of hope flickering through her. "W- What do you mean about her _mistaking_ _your_ _intentions_?"

"It's nothing I care to discuss with an 11-year-old!" Miles groaned, but then saw the glare in her eyes and put his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine! Fine! I shall tell you! Just restrain yourself from using that riding crop of yours, as my mouth was essentially assaulted enough by your gender this evening!”

 _"Meine Gott! Assault? Mouth?"_ Franziska placed a shocked hand to her lips and did her best to appear innocent of this knowledge. "Do you mean to tell me that your date _hit_ you?"

"That is _exactly_ what I am trying to tell you." Miles crossed his arms and scowled at the memory. "Indeed she did hit me in the mouth in the most unsolicited manner … with the forceful pressure of her own lips!"

"How dreadful." Franziska put on her most innocuously confused expression, even though internally, she was cheering with glee. "I take that to mean that you did not _wish_ her to kiss you then?"

"I most certainly _did not!"_ He frowned. "I had zero interest in Susan whatsoever, apart from academically, but I still should have realized that _her_ expectations for this evening went beyond merely studying together, especially since she showed up in a _Band-Aid sized,_ scarlet mini-dress for what was supposed to be _just coffee_."

"I _saw!"_ Franziska blurted out before she realized what she'd done. He regarded her quizzically, and she hastily attempted to retract her statement. "I mean, _I see_ what _you are saying_ , er, about perhaps her intentions being different than your own, based on what you are telling me."

"I cannot help it if I am somewhat old-fashioned, Franziska." Miles sighed. "While there are indubitably many members of my gender who would be flattered by such attention, I generally prefer, as the man, to be the one to do the chasing, as opposed to being the _object_ of such _hot pursuit_."

"I do not think that is old-fashioned at all," she said quietly. "I think that sounds quite _nice_. I – I wish more boys were like that."

"Speaking of boys, I apologize for going off about my night, before I even asked about _yours_." He gave his head a shake, as though attempting to erase the reminiscences of his evening and smiled indulgently at her. "Tell me all about your first dance. How full was your dance card? Did you have to beat the boys off with a stick tonight?"

"I would rather not talk about it." Franziska felt a lump forming in her throat as the horrid memories at the dance resurfaced and she shook her head. "It was a foolish, childish event I had no business going to. I should have just stayed home and read my law books."

"I know you want to be a prosecutor like Manfred and myself, Franziska, but someday, you will be happy to have had at least _some_ childhood memories to draw upon."

The girl didn't answer, so it was now Miles' turned to look bewildered.

"Tell me why you would say such a thing?" He peered at her downcast face with concern. "Did something bad happen tonight?"

More silence from the sullen child.

"Franziska, please talk to me." He placed a hand on her shoulder as his voice took on a protective tone now. "What happened at the dance? Was some lout mean to you or try to behave in an unseemly manner?"

"Just leave me be, Little Brother." She felt humiliating tears forming in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to halt them. Throwing his hand off, she turned away so he couldn't see her face. "It – it is getting late. I shall see you in the morning."

Undeterred, Miles put a firm hand back on her shoulder and turned her around to face him.

That was when he saw liquid pools in the mesmerizing grey orbs, which he noticed at that moment, looked so identical to her beloved late mother's, it was almost painful to see. That was when Miles realized the answer to his query, without her even needing to say a word. The realization made a lump form in his own throat.

 _She went through all the trouble of getting dressed up like a princess, made her sister do her hair, and even practiced dancing in preparation for her first ever school dance… only to have it undoubtedly be her last._ His hand curled reflexively into an angry fist. _She wasn't even given the chance to make it to the floor –because not one of those blind as bats, **Saukerl** boys in her class ever asked her to dance!_

"What's wrong with those _dummkopf_ lads at your school?" He murmured, his face awash with sympathy. "How is it even possible that none of them asked the prettiest girl in the room to be their dance partner?"

"Please stop!" Franziska cried angrily. "Stop saying that I am pretty, as this opinion is clearly not shared by boys who are _mein_ age! The kids – they all think I am a stuck up snob, think that I believe myself to be better than them! They hate me because I am smarter than them! Alternatively, they seem to think I am downright _ugly!_ How else to explain the fact that not even _one_ of them wanted to dance with me tonight?"

Miles had a theory about why such a travesty had occurred at the school, although he had no idea how to voice his speculations aloud. Nevertheless, he was positive that none of the boys' rejections had anything to do with finding his adopted sister lacking in any way, _appearance-wise,_ with her fine dress and artfully made up, porcelain doll face. He already could deduce that, as she teetered on the brink of womanhood, Franziska Von Karma was rapidly being turned by nature into the spitting image of the ethereal Minna Von Karma, save for having Manfred's hair.

Nonetheless, it was the fact that she also bore Manfred's _last name_ , and the imposing and fearful reputation that went with it, which had been her cross to bear tonight. What family in all of Germany _didn't_ know the illustrious Von Karma name and all the lore that went along with it? What boy possibly _hadn't_ been warned about the identity of Franziska's father, and all of the power and influence he was privy to, which would allow him to crush _anybody_ like a bug, should they dared to even _look_ at his youngest daughter?

But how to explain _any_ of that to a devastated 11-year-old girl, whose tears were now trickling down her cheeks, all the while nearly wringing his own heart out in the process?

"Franziska, I need you to listen to me." Miles took her hands in his own and crouched down so that they were face-to-face. "At this point, I hope you understand that you _are_ a very precocious little girl. Right now, this means that yes, you _are_ smarter than most of the other children in your class, and that can intimidate a lot of them because they cannot relate to such intellect and from someone their age. But don't ever let me hear you say that you are ugly, ever again. You are not just merely a pretty girl, but you are already on your way to being so incredibly beautiful when you get older, that most men may very well be too afraid to approach you, through no fault of your own, but due to _their_ own issues and insecurities. I know it sounds like a lot to take in right now, but I need you to try and remember that."

"H – how is that supposed to make me feel better?" Franziska wept, uncaring that the tears were freely flowing down her cheeks now. "I didn't _ask_ to be born smart or look like I do, so why am I being _punished_ for that? It's not fair! It just means I'm always going to be alone, with no friends, and no boy is ever going to want me! Am I supposed to pretend that I'm dumb and act foolish and giddy like all the other girls, just so the boys will like me?"

"That's not what it means that all." The boy reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and handing it to her. "It means that Mother Nature has made it so that unlike other girls, who will need to kiss a thousand frogs before they finally find their Prince, all of your inferior frogs will automatically be weeded out for you. This means that the right Prince, who will be secure about himself and confident enough in his abilities to appreciate and not be overwhelmed by your intelligence and your beauty, will make a direct path to your door. He will never ask you to change anything about yourself, because he will like you, just the way you are, and then he will sweep you off your feet, into his arms, and take you to his castle, where both of you will live happily ever after."

"You think so?" Franziska sniffled and looked at him hopefully. "Do you _really_ think someday, somewhere, a boy out there will like me, just for _me?"_

"Someday, Franziska Von Karma, I swear to you that one very lucky boy out there will _love_ you, and _everything_ about you," Miles promised, rising back up to his feet. He walked over to the stereo in the corner and turned it on, filling the room with soft music. His palm was already extended as she walked back to her. "Shall we dance?"

"W – What?" Franziska dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief regarded him with confusion. "Dance?"

"It's Valentine's Day, and I just had one of the most terrible evenings of my life, with an overly amorous young woman who appeared to have tentacles as opposed to hands! I'd like very much to obliterate that recollection, as much as I'm sure you would like to wipe out a few of your own. And I cannot think of a better way to do so than to dance with _meine Große Schwester,_ who is a most wonderful dance partner _._ "

He tilted his head to one side and an expectant smile played on his lips.

"I humbly ask you to do me the honor of giving me this dance?"

"Time After Time" began to play on the radio, and he bowed grandly, while she reflexively curtsied back.

"Look, Franziska," Miles teased softly as she stepped into his arms and he led them into a waltz. "It must be _a sign_ of some sort – they're playing our song!"

"Foolish fool!” Despite herself, Franziska still tittered at the quip, her earlier desolation completely forgotten now as she stared up at him. “You know there is no such thing as signs!"

* * *

**_Sometimes you picture me -  
I'm walking too far ahead  
You're calling to me, I can't hear  
What you've said -  
Then you say - go slow -  
I fall behind -  
The second hand unwinds_ **

* * *

Suddenly, a dark thought crossed her mind as she contemplated the lyrics, and her face grew pensive.

"You'll be done law school and become a lawyer in just over a year, at the rate you're going," she noted, feeling a fresh wave of despair wash over her. "And _then_ you're probably going to move even further away, and be too far ahead of me to ever fall back so that I can catch up, and I'll be all alone. What am I supposed to do then?"

"Franziska, do you trust me?" Miles asked quietly.

After a brief moment's pause, she nodded.

* * *

**_If you're lost you can look - and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting  
Time after time_ **

* * *

"Then as much as you believe me when I tell you that someday your prince will come and that _he_ will find _you_ , without _you_ needing to look for _him_ , I promise you that I will _never_ be too far ahead for you to catch up with me." His smoky eyes peered intently down into hers. "I give you my word that I will never stray too far away from you so that you won't be able to find me. I hope you believe me."

Franziska peered up into his handsome face and nodded again. She did believe him.

_Miles Edgeworth is my anchor and the only person in the world who gives me hope. Whenever the darkness begins to creep in, it is he who is my nascent sunlight that caresses my skin, baring promises of a new dawn ... new hope of beginning._

* * *

**December 20, 2014**

"Anneliese, _why_ can you not just be _ein gutes Mädchen_ and just nap already?" Franziska groaned, the impatience beginning to creep into her tone as her niece continued to run her ragged and spin around in circles like a miniature cyclone all around the room.

"Because, _Tante_ Franny, I am _not tired!"_ The little girl insisted, even as she rubbed her wide hazel eyes with her miniature fists and stamped her tiny foot on Franziska's bedroom carpet. "I want to watch Christmas shows on TV!"

The teenage prosecutor moaned inwardly. Having babysat her young niece on numerous occasions now, she knew the signs of when the little girl was tiring, such as the overly bright eyes and random bouts of petulance disrupting her normally sunny disposition.

Of course, another glaring piece of evidence was Anneliese's increased hyperactive level of activity, which had resulted in running her poor aunt _ragged_ for the past four hours, whilst her parents did their last-minute Christmas shopping!

The drained prosecutor had no idea how Katharina, who was 10 years her senior, managed the energy to keep up with her tireless offspring – at this point, if she managed to get her niece to take a blasted nap, _Tante_ Franny would more than likely be _joining_ her!

 _I blame those dummkopfs, Hans and Helga_! Franziska fumed. _They have always been the spoiling, grandparent kind, and I just **know** they went against my wishes and snuck her extra gingerbread cookies when I wasn't looking! The child is obviously on a boosted sugar level high!_

She was entirely left to her own devices with the little girl as well. Even though Miles was home for the holidays, he'd been in another world, seemingly distracted and closed off, barely looking at or speaking to her since arriving yesterday. He'd briefly greeted Anneliese when he'd come home from running some mysterious errand, but then he'd holed himself up in his bedroom, behaving in the same manner he'd demonstrated during his sullen teenage phase.

His distant comportment pained her greatly, considering that her Little Brother was now _a grown man_! While Miles could be as guarded as Franziska herself with his emotions, particularly amongst strangers and in public, it was still so unlike him to completely shut her out in such a manner. It was especially complexing to her since she felt that they had grown considerably closer when she had visited him in California during her summer vacation a couple of years ago. It had been right before she had passed the bar exam to become a prosecutor when they had investigated Byrne Faraday's death together. What possibly could have occurred during these past few years, since he had become an American prosecutor, which would make his behavior do such a complete turnabout?

"Anneliese, I _refuse_ to watch more television with you until you have at least taken some rest, or your mother will have my head!" Franziska exclaimed with frustration.

As it was, she had seen _Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer_ , _Frosty the Snowman_ and _The Grinch_ so many times already that she could recite the dialogue from each movie, line by line, for that was how well she now knew them by heart! If she had to endure it one more time that day, she knew she would start screaming!

She now had only one last resort as a bartering tool for Anneliese's good behavior, and while she was reluctant about resorting to bribery, it seemed she had no other choice!

"If you are _ein gutes kleines Mädchen_ and take a nice little nap, I promise to give you some more of Helga's fresh-baked Christmas cookies!"

The sugary goodies would no doubt give her niece yet another adrenaline rush, but by that time, hopefully, her sister and her husband would be back, and it would be _their_ issue to contend with by then!

The little girl pondered the offer for a moment, and then shrugged and hopped onto Franziska's bed.

"Fine, I'll lie down. But you have to read me a story first."

The prosecutor's mind went wild with panic. Of all the things her sister had packed into a bag for her daughter when she had dropped her off, including a change of clothes, some toys, and holiday DVDs, _age-appropriate reading material_ had _not_ been amongst them whatsoever! The bookshelves in her bedroom now fully consisted of nothing but law textbooks and reference materials, as Franziska had long since gotten rid of all of her childhood books, a decision she was now mentally cursing herself for.

 _What on earth am I going to read to a five-year-old?!_ _Maybe I can read her a passage from one of my legal publications? Perchance, I can **bore** her off to sleep?!_

"Sure, you just stay right there, and I will find a nice book to read." She reached over for the text on her night table and opened up to the bookmarked page she'd highlighted as she took a seat on the bed next to Anneliese, who eyed her with anticipation. "Look here's a section on, er, family-related matters!"

Franziska cleared her throat and began reading.

"The age of consent in Germany is 14, as long as a person over the age of 21 does not exploit a 14- to 15-year-old person's lack of capacity for, um … _carnal_ self-determination, in which case a conviction of an individual over the age of 21 requires a complaint from the younger individual. Being over 21 and engaging in ah, such relations with a minor of that age does not constitute an offense by itself. Otherwise, the age of consent is _16_ …"

" _Tante_ Franny! _Das ist so langweilig!"_ Anneliese whined, jutting out her lower lip in a displeased manner, not at all dissimilar to her aunt's! "I don't want to want to hear about dumb, boring lawyer stuff! Haven't you got any books for children?"

Franziska frantically wracked her brain, then had a swift flash of inspiration.

" _I_ don't, but your _Onkel_ Miles does! Have you heard of a wonderful children's writer named Robert Munsch?"

The flaxen-haired moppet scrunched up her face in deep thought, then nodded.

"He wrote that book _The Paperbag Princess_ , _ja?"_

"Yes, as well as many others. When he was a little boy, _Onkel_ Miles' favorite book was _Love You Forever,_ so for his Christmas gift a few years ago, I got him the entire, limited edition, Robert Munsch Collection. He might still have it in his room. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we borrowed it…"

"Yay!" Anneliese squealed excitedly, bouncing off the bed like a little rubber ball. She was already out the door before the words had barely left Franziska's lips. "I'm going to go ask _Onkel_ Miles _right now_!"

"Anneliese, wait!" The teenager called, rushing out the door after her niece, who was already down the hall and had flung open the bedroom door to Miles' bedroom, naturally, without even knocking. She caught up with Anneliese at the doorway of the room and skidded to a shaky stop, and her breath got caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her.

Standing in the bedroom, his hair slicked back and wet from the shower, obviously having just emerged from his bathroom, was her Little Brother. Make that her _not so little_ , in any way, shape, or form _,_ brother, as she had never seen him before, save for in her wildest teenage fantasies!

Miles was wearing nothing but a small towel wrapped around his trim waist, along with a gobsmacked expression at the sight of the two girls, which she was certain mirrored her own – albeit for  
completely different reasons!

Franziska swallowed hard as she stared achingly at his rippled physique, knowing she should do the appropriate thing and avert her eyes but found herself utterly helpless to pry her gaze away from the sight of his wet, chiseled form. She'd always mused that underneath his clothing, Miles Edgeworth was probably the most perfect male specimen on earth.

Now, thanks to her guileless niece barging in on him, she had irrefutable evidence that her speculations had been nothing short of the _truth_!

He was beautifully made, with long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. Since he was facing them, she couldn't see his broad back, although a part of her wished she could! The other very small part cautioned that she needed to get a hold of herself – posthaste!

She let out a shaky sigh and gave her head a firm shake to pull herself together.

"Miles, I am _so_ sorry!" Franziska gasped, clamping her hand down on her niece's shoulder as the full embarrassment of the scenario finally sunk in. "Anneliese just took off like a rocket, because she was so eager to ask you if she could borrow one of the children's books that I gave you for Christmas a little while ago…. I was trying to get her to take a nap, and I didn't have anything to read to her, because as you know, I foolishly gave away all my own children's books _ages_ ago when I became a prosecutor, never imagining I would ever need them ever again… and we were hoping you would not mind…assuming you still _have_ them here, and not at your place in Los Angeles! Although, of _course,_ we had no idea that you would be in _such a state_ … and I know she really should have knocked…"

Belatedly, she realized that she was rambling like a dithering idiot, and felt a heated blush rise to her cheeks. Also, she had yet to stop staring!

"So, anyway, we shall be in my room while you… Get decent. That is, _get clothed_. Not that you are _indecent looking_ in the least! Not that I have anything to compare you to at all…"

"Franziska, relax, you're babbling!"

Seeming more exasperated than flustered now, Miles raised a finger, signaling her to wait, ducked back into his bathroom, and came out a split second later in a knee-length bathrobe, more modestly, although somewhat damply, dressed. He smiled indulgently at his niece, who had _no idea_ what faux pas she'd had just committed, and waved the two of them inside the room.

"It's fine. These things have been known to happen when there's little one afoot, and it's certainly nothing to get into an uproar about. You're welcome to try to find the books on my shelf. They are still in the same pristine condition they were in when you kindly give them to me." He gestured towards the mahogany bookshelf against the far wall. "Help yourselves."

Anneliese certainly didn't need to be told twice and was already scouring the shelves with eager eyes, trying to find the sought-after item, but Franziska scrutinized his expressionless face intently, grateful for the reprieve, but also somewhat suspicious. Miles Edgeworth had always been a private man, who jealously valued his privacy above all else, and had had zero qualms letting her know as such, on countless occasions, growing up! It was very uncharacteristic of him to be so placid in such an instance, and it made her feel slightly weary, as well as concerned.

She walked over to his bed, which he was now sitting on, staring blankly out his window, holding his cell phone in his hand while he idly stroked it with his fingertips.

_I am officially worried now! This is **most** peculiar! It is as though my not-so Little Brother has been body-snatched by the pod people!_

"Little – _Miles,"_ Franziska corrected herself hastily. "It is not my intention to pry into your personal affairs, but I notice you have not quite been yourself since arriving, and it appears that there is some matter causing you some sort of great disturbance. It is most vexing to see you this way. You have been very kind to me in the past whenever something has been bothering me, so I just wanted to let you know that if you needed to talk, while I may not have any advice to give you, I will most certainly listen. _Sie können Ihr Leben darauf wetten_."

"That's very charitable of you, Franziska, and I'm glad I could bet my life on it." Miles turned his head away from whatever he had been staring at, outside the window, and looked at her with vacant eyes. "All the same, I don't think discussing my private matters in the presence of a young child would be prudent at the moment…"

" _Tante_ Franny! I found the books!" Anneliese crowed, yanking down the entire box holding the collection from above her head, uncaring as they all clattered to the carpeted floor, which she promptly set her little bottom upon while she poured over them. "Look at all these pictures! He's even got my favorite one – _Mortimer!"_

The teenage girl swung her eyes over from her niece and smiled wryly at the now amused-looking Miles.

"I do believe we have been bought at least a few good moments of distraction in _that_ domain…"

"Franziska…" Miles crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. "If I were to ship _something_ to the States via express post, do you think, at this time of the year, that Germany's mail system is reliable enough to place faith in that the package would arrive by Christmas?"

She was quite taken aback by the unexpected question, as had been the _last_ thing she had thought he would choose to bring up. _This_ was what had him all out of sorts? The pressing matter of whether or not he could trust the _Deutsche Post?_

"Yes, I imagine it would, as long as you've got it to them by end of business day today, although this late, you'd best keep your _Daumen drücken_ ," she answered uncertainly. "What was of such importance that you are trying to send at the 11th hour?"

A lightbulb went off over her head at that moment, and understanding dawned on her as she remembered his earlier mysterious errand.

"Were you trying to send a last-minute gift to somebody back in California?" She attempted to squelch the immediate pang of jealousy rising within her as she asked the next question. "For somebody _special_ , I take it?"

"I don't know how I feel about discussing such things with _you_ , either." Miles let out a humorless chuckle as he raked a hand through his wet hair. "I must fully be at my wit's end if I'm even _considering_ confiding my heartfelt secrets to a girl who is barely more than a child herself!"

"I am _hardly_ _a child_ anymore, I'll have you know!" Franziska put her hands on her hips and regarded him sternly. "It is almost insulting that you still think of me to be _noch grün hinter den Ohren sein!_ I have also been working in the same field as you since I was 13, so obviously I have a greater mental capacity and maturity than most girls my age! If memory serves me correctly, I was only 11 when you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about your _oversexed_ classmate's _unwanted advances_!"

Miles remained stubbornly silent, and as she didn't have her trusty weapon handy, which she had recently upgraded to from her riding crop, she settled for jabbing him to the arm instead.

" _In der Not frisst der Teufel Fliegen_ , Miles Edgeworth! Now cease acting as _Dumm wie Bohnenstro_ , you fool, and confide in your _Große Schwester_ already!"

"Perhaps I am being a bit thick. I'll also acknowledge that beggars can't be choosers!" Miles rubbed his arm from the surprisingly sharp shot and glowered at her. "Per contra, it is hardly a sign of newfound maturity when you resort to physically assaulting the very people you're attempting to have an adult conversation with!"

"You're being a completely foolish fool by holding everything in, and being a complete wet blanket during what is supposed to be _family_ Christmastime!" Franziska snapped irritably. "You are fortunate I did not have my whip with me!"

"I wouldn't think it's very commendable to just whip people at random, either!"

"I swing, therefore I whip! That is my philosophy!"

They glared at each other for a moment, but finally, Miles looked away and shook his head sheepishly.

"Stop glowering at me like that, I beg of you!" He protested laughingly. "Lest I be turned into stone!"

"Pray tell, who is she?" Franziska demanded, her heart beginning to hammer as she braced herself for the answer. She was silently praying that she was wrong about her theory as to what was troubling him. That it was something minor, like a work issue. "Who is this woman responsible for you acting like The Grinch at this festive time of year when you are _supposed_ to be enjoying the holiday season with your family?"

"She's a new coworker," he finally admitted with a sigh, unaware of the tight constricting that formed within Franziska's chest at his answer. "I've just been tussling with whether or not it would be appropriate to send her a gift for Christmas. She certainly wouldn't be expecting one, as I didn't even leave her card at the office when some of the others at work exchanged them with each other. Yet I couldn't help but wonder if it'd be the worst thing if I let her know that even though _I_ am here, and _she_ is back there, that she still occupies my every thought. It's not in my nature to be so trite; perhaps I am overly sentimental because of the festive season, or just overthinking the whole thing. Ngh! _I just don't know…"_

Franziska died a little inside. Just when she'd thought she was finally old enough to confess her feelings, and hope that Miles would _,_ at long last _,_ see her as more grown-up, it seemed that she was destined _never_ to catch up, as his heart was _already elsewhere_. The knowledge was excruciating, but she loved him so much that she decided to make good on her offer and give him the best, unbiased, Big Sister advice she possibly could, regardless.

"Well, if she works with you, obviously she must be a woman of _some intelligence_ , who would, therefore, be delighted to be the recipient of some sort of token of affection from a man like you," she finally managed to get out, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. "Thusly, I am uncertain about what is hindering you from following through with your desired actions? You have _never_ been hesitant about _anything_ , Miles. Why would such be the case now?"

"It's a bit complicated, Franziska." Miles looked at his cell, as though contemplating whether to use it, but then ultimately decided against it, and quickly shoved it into his night table drawer and slammed it shut. "As much as this woman haunts my mind, and my every thought, I can't disregard that _she is a coworker_ , so getting involved with her goes against my work ethics and beliefs."

"Is it against office policy to date among colleagues?"

"Not really. I suppose it would be considered frowned upon in _this_ instance, though, since I _am_ her subordinate."

"Could the two of you not just practice discretion in the meantime then?" She ventured, nearly choking on the words even as she uttered them.

"It's not _just_ the fact that we work together." Miles rose from the bed and began pacing the room like a restless tiger. "As much as I would be most pleased if I were the lone contender for her heart, it brings me great distress to have to be acknowledging, aloud, that such is _not_ the case. There is indeed another contender who also vies for her affections."

"I still fail to see what the problem is." Franziska took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "There is no woman with half an eye, or with blood in her veins, that could ever choose another man over, you, Miles Edgeworth. You are the greatest man I have ever known, and any woman alive would be so lucky to have you. You a Prodigy Prosecutor with a perfect record, a genius logical mind, and a compassionate heart. What more could she possibly want?"

"Mayhap she is not desirous in preference for a man of refined tastes," he muttered darkly. "I get mixed messages, as she seems torn between me and one of those rough around the edges _,_ cowboy types."

"Then she is an unpardonable fool and not worth your time!" She cried passionately, her heart overcoming her logic at that moment as the words spilled out. "Without even laying eyes on this other man, I already know that there is no way he is as handsome as you are! Truly believe me when I say this to you: Miles, you are not only the greatest man I have met but the most _handsome_ man that I have ever known!"

There was an odd stillness in the room as he stared at her. Franziska felt her face flaming and dropped her gaze, but not before she saw the color rising to his cheeks as well at her outburst.

"I don't believe that I ever heard you say such a thing, or _anything,_ with regards to my physical appearance before." Miles jammed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet awkwardly, obviously embarrassed and unaccustomed to such commentary. "That is very nice of you say so, however biased you might be, _Große Schwester."_

"Your foolish self has not been paying much attention to anything over the years, as this is most certainly _not_ the first time I have let you know how physically _ansprechend_ you have become, _Kleiner Bruder_." She was unable to hide the earnestness in her tone. "How do you never notice the way my girlfriends, such as Addie, despite being spoken for, get reduced to blushing, giggling ninnies when within your presence? Moreover, how have you never seen the admiring glances of all the women in the streets whenever we have been out together?"

_How have you never seen the admiration in **my** own eyes?! Or the obvious longing in them, even as I say all these ego-stroking words that will only further propel you into this other mystery woman's arms?!_

"I guess I _have_ been too preoccupied with first my studies, and then my work, to pay mind to much else," Miles muttered, his eyes on the floor. He glanced up then and flashed her a half-smile. "You have given me a lot to think about, Franziska. A New Year is looming. Perhaps I should consider resolving to explore what else is out there for me, besides just my job. Thank you, Big Sister."

Up until that moment, the German expression _Jemanden ausnehmen wie eine weihnachtsgans,_ meaning _, to gut someone like a Christmas goose_ , had never made sense to Franziska, but upon hearing those words, that was _exactly_ the impact she felt! She could feel a stinging sensation building behind her eyes and knew she had to get out of there before the tears burning behind them began to fall.

" _Sehr gut_." She forced herself to smile. "We cannot have you hating yourself for chances that you never took, which could otherwise _sich in den Arsch beißen!_ However, I do need to put Anneliese down for her nap now. I will return the books to you as soon as I'm done reading them to her. I shall see you later, Little Brother."

Before he could respond, she quickly turned away from him and walked over to her niece. Scooping Anneliese up into her arms, along with the books that she held in them, she quickly strode out of the room, all the while only thinking one thought in her mind:

_Bitte, Gott don't let him see me cry this time, I beg of you! Don't let me make a fool of myself even more than I already have…_

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adele - Hello
> 
> Translations
> 
> noch grün hinter den Ohren sein! – still green behind the ears!


	116. Think Of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "He loved her like he was five years old and he'd just discovered fire. He loved her with both of his hands, with his eyes, with his mouth, like he didn't always know what he was doing but it was all coming naturally anyway. He loved her like he was watching sunsets and sunrises in her smile, like every time she laughed his day got a little brighter, like when he held her, he was holding the sun in his arms. It felt so simple and right.
> 
> And even though, sometimes, there were fights that removed the sunshine, they always found a way to get it back. And even though there were tears, from both of them, in a back cupboard somewhere, there were always tissues too. And even though there were moments when she doubted, he was always there to make the doubts go away. And for this she loved him. For all of this, he loved her. He loved her like he was five years old again and discovering fire. And she loved him right back."
> 
> ~Sue Zhao~

**_Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 14, 2026

_I think that after the first time you give your heart away, you never get it back. The rest of your life is just pretending that you still have a heart._

It was the ultimate exercise in futility. His atrabilious state could not be abated, no matter how much he tried to sidetrack his brooding reflections.

 _Meine Dame!_ Miles's heart cried silently. _If only you knew how I loathe myself as I look back now! I am beyond lachrymose; I could weep an ocean of tears for the inadvertent pain and anguish I must have caused you, what with assaulting your poor, disheartened ears with my boorish, nonsensical, bloviating about another woman! In my younger days, I was such a different man than I am now. Until you, I was a contumacious, selfish, cur, completely swept away in a surge of gratuitous concupiscence for someone who merely got into my **blood** , but never my actual **heart or mind.** It was pure misguided blindness that made me mistake my competitive, predatory desire for Lana for genuine caring and devotion. My regrettably accursed, lust-fueled possessiveness kept me blind to the truth for far too long, and I unwittingly allowed myself to take a temporary leave of my senses, unable to distinguish it from true, sempiternal love **–** something I neither recognized, nor comprehended… **until you.**_

It was like trying to hold back a relentless tidal wave. The harder he tried to suppress the turbulent reminiscences of yesteryear which had led up to this point, the greater the rushing tide egregiously reemerged and inundated his memories, _forcefully drawing him backward beneath the surface of the water, trying to tow him into its depths._

_Franziska, I fell for you harder than a slip upon black ice. With you by my side, my life was as sweet as gingerbread, but now it's naught but a cookie-cutter hole, right in the centre. You walked out, and the aperture you left behind cannot be filled by any type of work or distractions. In your inimitable formidable way, you carved yourself a role right into my DNA and no matter how hard I try to remove it, it remains unchanged; not bigger, not smaller, not louder, and never quieter. Even if I tried to work around it as though it were a ball of razor wire in my living room, it would still take a superhuman effort to disregard it, and just the slightest grazing will cut deeply. I know this is my fault; despite my promises to go slow, to fall back so you could catch up, in the end, it seems, I left you behind far too many times. And for **what**? A pat on the back, a gold star? Nothing that matters at all anymore. Now I see how much you meant to me all along. Now that you aren't here to hold my hand, I see it for myself, what is truly important in life, but alas, it appears I am historically doomed to unearth these revelations when it's too little, too late…_

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma  
_** _Von Karma Estate, Germany **  
**_August 28, 2015, 11:00 PM

It had been a very long, hectic day in the courtroom, and Franziska had decided to make it a somewhat early night. She was just about to doze off when the telephone in her bedroom rang.

_Humph! What **Schwachkopf** could be calling me at this hour?_

_"Hallo?"_ She answered grumpily.

"Franziska it's me."

That nitwit was none other than her _Kleiner Bruder!_

Disregarding the fact that she was normally delighted to hear from him, as she had not set eyes on him since the previous Christmas, Franziska reluctantly sat up, realizing as she glanced at her bedside clock, that in California, it was still early afternoon, and that he was only just past the middle of the workday.

"Miles Edgeworth, you foolish fool!" She grumbled. "How _dare_ you interrupt my beauty sleep! What are you doing calling me this late at night?"

"Apologies for the inconvenience, Big Sister," Miles returned blithely, not sounding particularly sorry at all. "It's a Friday night; I imagined that you might be out and about?"

Franziska scowled into the phone, taking great offense at what she took as a slight at her lack of social life. Well, it was true that most 17-year-olds _would_ be out with their friends and mingling on the weekend, she was certainly no typical teenager, and after a nearly 12-hour workday, she was _certainly_ entitled to one good night's sleep, and without judgment from her out of _sight_ , but unfortunately never out of _mind_ , Little Brother!

"I will have you know that I _did_ have plans, which I opted to forsake – if you _must_ know!" She informed him loftily, not wanting him to think that she was some pitiful old maid who had nothing better to do but work and pine away for him, even though, pathetically, that was exactly the case! "But I had a tiring workday, which, as a fellow prosecutor, I am sure you can understand. Ergo, I rescheduled for Saturday. Now, kindly inform me as to the purpose of this phone call posthaste, so that I can go back to bed and be refreshed and well-rested for my weekend festivities on the morrow!"

"Well if you're busy tomorrow night, it will be a pity that I miss you then," he remarked mildly. "I had hoped that we could have dinner at the restaurant of your choosing, and perhaps compare American versus European courtroom stories."

Franziska blinked in surprise. Miles was coming to visit? Since _when_ did he make impromptu, _  
cross-continental_ _drop-ins_? Moreover, it wasn't even an official holiday! Whatever had brought _this_ on?

"Pray tell, to what do I owe the pleasure of your spontaneous arrival?" She asked, unable to keep the wariness out of her voice, and instinctively sensing a crisis. "Is everything all right?"

Miles cleared his throat, the way he always did whenever he had to speak about a topic he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

"I have simply had a last-minute change of heart, and decided that I wish to be present at our brother-in-law's golden 30th birthday party, after all," he replied easily, as though expecting her to forget that he had already RSVP'd his inability to attend _months ago_. "I didn't want to risk waking up Katharina and Günther, so I was hoping _you_ could convey to them that I will indeed be joining the festivities on the 30th, as I plan on catching the redeye flight and being there by late afternoon or early evening tomorrow."

Franziska's heart leaped with initial excitement at the idea of seeing him again, but at the same time, her mind recoiled with a twinge of aggravation. How presumptuous to assume that she would not only willingly be his personal secretary, but that she would have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than welcome him with open arms because he had unexpectedly decided to grace her with his presence! Her feelings for him had admittedly not changed in the least, yet ever since the day of their fatefully telling conversation, she had henceforth resigned herself to the fact that the two of them were possibly never meant to be, what with his heart being in the hands of the mystery coworker he had mentioned to her. Therefore, seeing him again would be a mixed blessing, as it would only put her heart through the wringer again when she had to bid him adieu, this time knowing that he was going back to the arms of another woman.

"I am sure everybody will be delighted to have you," she answered coolly. "Will Papa be joining us as well, then?"

There was a delayed pause on the line as Miles searched his mind for the most diplomatic way to relay Manfred's reaction to the inquiry regarding his attendance at his son-in-law's party. Even two hours later, he still cringed slightly at the memory.

" _Himmeldonnerwetter!_ " The legendary DA had shouted, and the frustrated disgust in his voice was starkly palpable, even over the phone. " _Of course,_ I am not attending the party of that _verdammten, schwachsinnigen Muttersöhnchen_ that my poor, foolishly naïve daughter married, Edgeworth! I can barely stomach that plastic Ken doll pretty-boy! It's bad enough I must endure his sniveling, spineless, simpering presence once a year at Christmas, and even _that_ is too much! _Spinnst du oder was?_ I thought you had more sense than to ask me questions to which the answer should be obvious to even the mother of all _die Dorftrottel!_ It appears I have overestimated you!"

_Somehow, I am under the impression that telling Franziska her father nearly ripped my head clean off at the slight mention of the milestone party for his damned, moronic, mama's boy son-in-law would not be a wise move!_

"Unfortunately, your father regrets that he will be unable to attend, but sends his best wishes," Miles answered at last. "Anyhow, as you said, it's getting late over there, and far be it for me to disrupt your slumber more than I already have. So tell me, do _you_ want _me_ to make reservations at say, 8:00 PM at our usual restaurant tomorrow night, or should _I?"_

Franziska was flat out livid now. She could not believe the _audacity_ of the arrogant man on the line! After all, he didn't know whether she was telling the truth or not about having plans the following evening, and yet, he was brazen enough to expect that just because _he_ would be around, that _she_ would be ready to drop everything for him on a whim! Her heart was not a toy, and she would not be taken for granted by _any_ man, not even Miles Edgeworth!

It appeared the presumptuous fool was quite overdue for an exercise in humility!

"I may already be gone from the house, depending on what time you arrive tomorrow." Her cadence was clipped. "Regardless, I shall pass on your message to my sister, and I will wish you a safe flight until then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Big Sister," he chuckled, seemingly undaunted by her icy tone. "I shall see you on the morrow.”

Infuriated now, Franziska slammed down the phone. Damn that blasted, foolish man! Enough was enough! It was time to teach Miles Edgeworth a lesson!

Reaching over to her cell phone on her night table, she sent out a quick text.

_Addie, are you free for a quick moment? Call me._

Her friend called back right away.

"Franziska, I see you're still awake," Addie said warmly. "Élie, his cousin, and I were just about to head out to the club. Have you had a change of heart and decided to join us after all?"

"I am afraid not. I have had a crazy day at work, and am beyond exhausted."

"Work, work, work, that's _all_ you ever do!" Her friend exclaimed. "As impressive as it is to have a friend who has managed to become a professional, while _I_ was still a schoolgirl, you _do_ know you _are still a teenager_ , don't you, Franziska? _Live_ a little once in a while! There's no court on the weekends!"

"As a matter of fact, that is why I called," Franziska told her. "Perchance, does the offer you made for going out with the three of you tomorrow night still stand? Because if so, I would very much like to join you and meet your boyfriend's glamorous Parisian cousin at last."

"Of course, it's still on the table! I am so happy that you changed your mind, and that this show ticket needn't go to waste!" Addie sounded positively giddy. "I showed Pepé your photo by the way, and he thinks you're so beautiful! He will be over the moon at the idea of being your escort tomorrow night!"

"Well, I hope he does not see this outing as an actual _date,_ per se, rather than just a group of friends getting together…" Franziska began, but then stopped herself, and a crafty smile suddenly crept over her face. "Although I am very much looking forward to showing _him_ around town while he visits, as well. Tomorrow should be a lot of fun. Perhaps I can take him out for a quick bite to eat, _just_ _the two of us_ , before we meet up with you and Élie? Could you have him pick me up around 6:00?"

"Sounds good. I will let him know he's got a hot dinner date before we all attend the show tomorrow night!" Addie teased. "You may hear his celebrated holler of joy from your place! You know how expressive these French boys can be!"

"You are too _drôle!_ Tell him to _look sharp_ as well, as I will be taking him to the best restaurant in town!"

 _And I should know, too! After all, it **is** the one I normally go to with my **Little Brother**_ **,** Franziska added silently, snickering to herself as she rung off a few moments later. _Oh, I shall be making reservations at our favorite eatery tomorrow night, Miles Edgeworth, but **not** with **you**!_

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma  
_** _Von Karma Estate, Germany **  
**_August 29, 2015

It was a quarter after five by the time Miles' taxi arrived at the Von Karma mansion. He was spent, having flown on an all-nighter immediately after a particularly grueling day at work, and airline food, as usual, left much to be desired, so he was particularly famished. He wondered what Franziska would say about bumping up their dinner reservation from 8 o'clock to perhaps 7 o'clock. After all, she had always been very practical and quick to dress for all occasions, not bothering to fuss too much with her hair or makeup, so he didn't imagine it would take her that much time to get ready, despite the short notice.

Work and his unpleasant telephone conversation with Manfred notwithstanding, yesterday had been a day he was very much hoping to obliterate from his mind! Therefore, Miles was also in the mood to consume a good stiff drink _or three_ that evening with his meal. He'd never been the type to drink alone, but Franziska was now old enough to consume beer at German establishments that served alcohol, so at least he would have some fellow companionship. He hoped she wouldn't mind allowing him this indulgence, or taking a taxi to and from their destination if need be, so neither one of them would be stuck driving while in any sort of altered state.

Miles exhaled tiredly as he hauled his suitcase and fatigued body up the long staircase to the bedrooms. He was genuinely looking forward to seeing his adopted sister after so long. She was very good company, intelligent and mature beyond her years, and always found a way to make him feel better about himself, which would be _most welcom_ e, particularly after the _beating_ his _ego_ had withstood the day before!

 _I would never need to fight for **Franziska's** affections with another man!_ He fumed, raking an agitated hand through his hair. _Nor would I ever need to give an ultimatum to **her** to finally decide between me and said inferior individual, after idly dallying between the two of us for nearly a year! **Franziska** thinks that when it comes to me, that there is absolutely **no contest**! Regardless of whether or not that is true, it still does warm the heart to know that there is at least **one female** in the world who wouldn't take me for granted, and appreciates me as I am, and all that I have to offer! And not just **any** female! A lovely, articulate, bright, and ambitious young woman, that **any man** would be fortunate enough to have! It's a shame that she's still only a girl, otherwise…_

Miles halted this alarming, _entirely out of the blue_ notion before it came to fruition, and cursed himself for it, regardless. His flaming row with Lana yesterday over her _continuing indecisiveness_ between himself and Jake had rattled him _far worse_ than he had initially imagined, and this time away from her, and the entire situation, _had_ been _exactly_ what he'd needed! _What the hell_ was he doing, going _right out of the frying pan_ , and _into the fire_ like this, by letting his mind walk down such a treacherously dangerous and slippery slope?!

 _Otherwise_ **_what_** _, Miles Edgeworth_? He frowned as a constricted sensation formed around his throat then, forcing him to jerk his cravat so that it loosened somewhat. _If she were not just a girl and **were** indeed older, what **would** you do about it? Manfred would **have your head** for even **thinking** such a thing, and if Franziska ever found out, you would earn a thousand lashes with that merciless whip of hers for even allowing your mind to go on that path, like some sort of old, perverse lecher! How dare you go that mental route, even briefly! God's teeth! She is your **sister** , just like Katharina, and naught else!_ _Moreover, she simply sees you as her **Little Brother** , who she is much too young for, and who is definitely old enough to know better!_

Miles was still muttering angrily to himself as he got to the top of the stairs. He saw that Franziska's bedroom door was open, and heard the faint strains of a familiar melody coming from the room. His curiosity got the better of him as he neared her chambers, assuming it was safe to pass by since the door wasn't closed.

The normally cool and composed prosecutor was wholly unprepared for both the sight _and_ sound that greeted him, and he drew in a sharp inward breath.

The classic song playing on the stereo in the room was from Andrew Lloyd Webber's _Phantom of the Opera_ , "Think of Me," which Miles remembered had always been one of her favorite songs, despite his abhorrence for the entire score of the wildly popular, albeit puerile musical! Nevertheless, it wasn't his aversion to Franziska's choice of composition _,_ which was making him infinitely grateful that he'd loosened the pressure around his neck just a moment ago.

No, in all veracity, it was the actual _vision_ of her, after being away for so long, that was making him feel as if the wind had been knocked out of his sails!

Standing before her vanity mirror, skillfully applying lipstick to her full, pouty lips, humming along to the music, was a _brand-new, never before seen_ , Franziska Von Karma. Somehow, during his time away in America, she had blossomed from the teenage girl he last recollected, into what he could only now describe as the most resplendent, striking … and breathtakingly _gorgeous_ young woman he had ever laid eyes upon, in all of his 24 years, on God's green earth!

There had been a point in Miles' life when he had thought Franziska and Katharina's mother had been the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Now, before his _mesmerized_ eyes, he realized that in the time since he'd last set eyes on her, Mother Nature had completed the final wave of her magic wand, resulting in his younger adopted sister now becoming the very essence of Minna Von Karma, reincarnated. All that was missing was the silvery-blonde hair.

His Big Sister looked like an enchanted Snow Queen, dressed in an outfit, which he dimly remembered from his niece's obsession with Disney's _Frozen,_ was nearly identical to that of Queen Elsa. Just like in the movie, when the heroine had morphed into the dazzling iconic outfit that was beloved and renowned worldwide, Franziska's transformation was equally as spellbinding, if not even _more_ so.

Her lithe curves were donned in a floor-length, celestial blue, strapless mermaid dress, made of satin silk, with glittery, all-over beading in swirling patterns adorning it. The gown was snug in the bust area, with a crystallized, waistband belt, where the bodice cinched in at her narrow waist. Over this, she wore a sheer, long-sleeved, overlay, composed of white lace and chiffon, decorated with shimmery snowflakes of Swarovski crystalline decal. The transparent garment draped slightly off both shoulders to the floor, leaving them beguiling bare, and the gown flared elegantly around her perfectly shaped legs – alluringly displayed with a thigh-high slit up the side. Sparkly ice-blue pumps and a matching evening clutch completed the look.

As the prosecutor stood there, completely frozen, in the doorway, Franziska looked up and caught his astounded reflection in her mirror, and spun around with a welcoming smile on her flawlessly made-up, ethereal visage. Quickly turning off the stereo, she approached him gracefully, leaning forward to press her lips lightly against both his cheeks in customary European greeting, close enough for him to catch a whiff of her intoxicating perfume.

"Little Brother! How nice that you made it home in time before I headed out," she said sweetly. "I was so afraid that I would miss you."

 _"Miss me?"_ Miles echoed blankly, gesturing at her outfit. "Whatever do you mean? Aren’t you a tad too munificently dressed just for dining with _me_ , at the _Reinstoff Rutz_?"

"But I am _not_ merely going to dinner," she corrected him, an excited twinkle in her stunningly made-up eyes. "I am attending the _opera_! Well, _Phantom of the Opera_ , to be exact, which is why I was playing the music of my favorite stage production."

" _Phantom of the Opera_?" Miles repeated, dimly aware of the fact that he was beginning to sound _very much_ like a _parrot_! "But what about _our_ dinner plans?"

"Little Brother, you truly _never_ listen, _do_ you?" She tilted her head to the side and flashed him a coquettish smile. "Even in my semi-sleep deprived state last night on the phone, I vividly recollect informing you that I had other plans this evening. Have you forgotten _already_ , in your old age?"

"I – I believed you were just saying that to get a rise out of me," he admitted, feeling a slight blush creeping to his cheeks. "That's fine, then. I apologize for being presumptuous. I suppose I will just have Helga prepare something for me."

"She would be delighted to. You know she loves waiting on you."

Miles knew he was ogling her, something he had never done before, but she looked so captivating ... so incredibly _breathtaking,_ that you couldn't have _pried_ away from his stare, even _with a crowbar_. As though sensing his lingering glance, Franziska quickly masked the knowing glint in her entrancing silvery orbs and fluttered long eyelashes at him ingenuously. He hastily tore his gaze away and cleared his throat.

"So, _Phantom of the Opera,_ you say?" He jammed his hands into his pockets. "I'm surprised you're so eager to see the performance so soon since the last time. I remember I took you to it for your birthday."

"So you did." She shrugged. "Although, the magic of the Phantom will _always prevail_ , for _me_ anyway, and I leaped at the chance to see it once more. As I said, it is my all-time _favorite_ musical."

"Yes, I am very well aware," he retorted dryly. "Afterwards, I keenly recall getting into the most heated debate with you about it. _You_ were moved to near tears, and said the Phantom was a tragic, romantic figure who was merely misunderstood; whereas _I_ countered that the Phantom, despite being a musical genius, was an evil predatory sort, for stalking and terrorizing the young, beguiling Christine in such a manner! I _also_ remember, as part of your defense, getting _several dozen lashes_ in retaliation for voicing my opposing point of view!"

"I acquiesce, that _was_ a very _childish_ and overly temperamental demonstration on my behalf," she acknowledged this time with deliberate insouciance. "But time has passed, and people change, Miles. Surely, you cannot hold against me the immature and irrational behavior from my earlier days of youth?"

"Franziska, this was just _last year_!"

"So it was," she twittered gaily. "Thusly, maturity is not measured in moments, but is from gained life experience and expanded knowledge that further enriches one's character. A lot can happen in a year or less."

 _I'll say_! He thought sourly. _Within less than a year since our last visit, you have miraculously changed from an innocent, comely teenager into a seductive enchantress, who should be confined into a nunnery until a minimum age of 30, due to the impure stirrings you would now inspire in any lascivious male that sets eyes upon you!_

"So, with whom will you be seeing this show, which we neither of us can agree to disagree upon?" Miles cocked an inquisitive brow. "Adelaide, I presume?"

"Indeed, _we_ shall be attending with Addie and her boyfriend, Élie later tonight. However, before meeting up with them, I have dinner plans at _Reinstoff Rutz_. My date should be arriving very shortly to come to get me," Franziska purred. "Since you are here, you can meet him for yourself, if you wish."

_"Date?!"_

Miles felt as though he'd been sucker-punched, and didn't _care_ this time that he sounded like a _bloody Macaw_! She could very well _cram a cracker into his mouth_ and call him _Polly_ for all he cared, at that moment! Just what did she mean by _'we?!'_

"You mean to say that you have a … _date_? With _whom_?!"

"Why, with Élie's cousin, who is here from Paris," she replied innocently, although there was an unmistakable gleam in her eye. "We are all going out to celebrate Pepé's birthday tonight. I decided I would commence the festivities by taking him to that wonderful restaurant which you and I frequent so often whenever you are in town."

 _"Pepé?"_ His tone was dubious, as the uncomfortable sensation of mounting protectiveness and _something_ else – which he refused to name! – began brewing within him. "You have a date with an actual, real-life, _French stereotype?"_

"Just what do you mean by _that_ remark, Miles Edgeworth?!"

"Have you never seen an episode of _Looney Tunes?"_ The incredulous words were tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them, even as his voice rose. " _Pepé?!_ Whatever is his last name? _Le Pew_?"

The moment the uncharacteristically juvenile words left his mouth, Miles swore a mental blue streak, hating the fact that he _sounded_ every bit as petty and jealous as he was admittedly _feeling!_ He thoroughly despised himself for it, fully knowing that it was as incomprehensible as it was inappropriate! He had _zero right_ to either intervene or make any sort of _objection_ to _anything_ she did, nor could he even claim protective Little/Older Brother status as the reason that the hands in his pockets were now curled into tightly clenched fists. Franziska was nearly a grown woman now, and _looked_ every bit the part! Besides, at 17, by German law, she had been a legal adult, for the past year. Of course, it would be another year before she would be considered an adult by lawful standards in the States, where _he_ now resided, but that was beside the point … wait, why the deuce was his blasted mind veering in that direction – yet again?!

"Do not be foolish, Miles Edgeworth!" Her tone was sharp as she glared at him. "For your information, I am _not_ going out with an overly amorous cartoon skunk, so no, you fool, that is _not_ his family name! For your kind information, his full name is _Pepé Roni_!"

_Pepé Roni?!_

Miles stared at her speechlessly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

_So, it turns out my Big Sister is not going out on a date with a shamelessly persistent, lovesick  
 **moufette,** but is instead attending the performance with a human **pizza topping!** I am unsure if this is better or worse! I also don't know why it bothers me so damn much! Nonetheless, it is inconsequential whether he is a skunk or a fatty, nitrate-laden meat by-product! Regardless, this still conclusively…LE PEW!_

"Is this something sort of _joke_?" He eyed her stonily. "Is it fair conjecture then that _Monsieur Roni_ comes from a long family line of _affluent pizzeria owners_?"

"Don't be absurd! He is _French_ , not _Italian_! His father owns a large chain of successful Parisian delicatessens!"

"That is beside the point! For heaven's sake, Franziska, I thought you were trying to _abstain_ from carbohydrates!"

"I _never_ made any proclamation of the sort!" She placed her hands on her hips, a dangerous warning glint in her eye that Miles was too blinded by jealousy at this point to pay heed to.

"You reached a stage-level of histrionics that one time you overindulged on pasta, and claimed you'd gained _half a pound!"_ He snapped. "And you swore you would never let any sort of _carb_ pass through your lips, because you wailed that it would go _straight for your hips_ – just like _this French oaf_ undoubtedly will, as well!"

She recoiled as though he'd struck her, and at that moment, Miles realized that he had gone way too far. He didn't even know how to apologize for his unseemly words, for which he had neither excuse nor explanation for, but he _did_ know he was in trouble as her eyes narrowed into slits and she reached reflexively for her whip, then cursed as she realized that there was _no place for the holster_ on _a formal dress_!

Before he could react, the fuming Franziska snatched her sought-for weapon off her dresser and cracked it in the air while she stared daggers at him.

"Just _who the hell_ do you think you are to be speaking to me in such a manner, Miles Edgeworth?!" Her argent eyes were sparkling like large twin flints. "You have an incredible amount of _gall_ , making snap judgments about both the virtue of myself _and_ the character of this boy, whom you have never even met before! If you are acting in this childish manner simply because you wanted to have dinner with me, perhaps you should have had the courtesy to give me more than barely one night's notice! There was a chance I wouldn't have agreed to these plans if I had genuinely believed that _I_ was the one you honestly wanted to spend time with, instead of your obvious fallback game plan, because your _first_ one didn't work out!"

Miles swallowed hard at the painful veracity of the words.

"That's not true!"

"That is a foolish lie and we both know it! Just why _are_ you here, Miles Edgeworth? Did your precious _colleague_ break your heart?" She demanded harshly, still brandishing her whip threateningly. Even in her feminine gown, she _still_ looked ready and capable of doing some serious damage! "Are you here to seek comfort in the arms of your loving family in your time of need? The _same_ _family_ to whom you _originally_ claimed you were _too busy with work_ , to come and visit for this milestone event?"

"Franziska, please, calm down, and listen to me –"

His words were cut off as the whip whizzed through the air, but for the first time, Miles was able to react early enough, and with absolutely no intention of doing anything other than disarming the enraged girl, he reached for the leather object at the last split-second, successfully wrapping it around his hand and giving it a sharp yank. Unfortunately, the temperamental teen also had equally zero inclination of releasing her prized possession, and in the ultimate act of grown-up tug-of-war, the only thing Miles was successful in pulling was the infuriated Franziska Von Karma, _right into his arms_!

The two prosecutors gasped in shock as she collided heavily into his chest. Reflexively, he reached out to catch her, and then held her tightly against him, expecting resistance, but finding none, and his chest heaving as he looked down into her wide eyes. Shocked by the action, the equally breathless teen stared up into his face, an expression of disbelief, and something he couldn't quite place, evident on her lovely face. Neither of them spoke nor moved for the longest time, and just stood there, staring searchingly at one another, with her surprisingly pliant body locked against his.

At that moment, the ludicrousness of the situation hit him, and his defenses collapsed, leaving him torn between the walled urge to laugh at her wonderful, courageous, outraged sense of feminine dignity, and the wilder urge to keep her in his arms, shove his hands into that mass of gleaming hair, and bury his lips in hers. Somehow, seemingly overnight, without his notice, his Big Sister had become as enticing as she could be sweet, and more sexually provocative, even though fully covered in that delectable, _clinging to her every feminine curve_ , evening gown, than any magnificently dressed, or _undressed_ , woman he had ever known.

 _The man who finally gets this **Wild Mare** into his bed,_ _Pepé, or otherwise, shall indeed be quite the fortunate bastard!_

The moment the libidinous musing went through his mind, guilt abruptly doused his pleasurable contemplation of her appealing assets, and shame ate away at his innards like acid. He had _no right_ to be mentally undressing her and thinking thoughts about her in bed with another man, or otherwise! Especially considering his own debacle of a love life, which had yet to be resolved, what with him continuously trying to force Lana to make up her bloody mind and _at last_ , make the choice between Jake and himself! It was only due to his eventual frustration with her inability to do so that had resulted in this impromptu trip!

_There is a woman back in America, whom I have been trying make choose **me,** over her other lover, and still, knowing there is the looming possibility of us finally truly being together, I am now bewilderingly filled with impromptu, newfound desire for my Big Sister! I am, without doubt, **the** most fiendish, vile lecher to have ever lived!_

There were no words to describe just _how_ filled with savage self-disgust Miles was to be _lusting_ after his adopted sister in such a manner. His attraction to her was obscene! Moreover, it was insane! If he'd ever tired of his bizarre love triangle and decided he wanted diversion of any sort, he could have chosen from among some of the most beautiful women, which Lana Skye most definitely was ranked amongst, in Europe and/or Los Angeles! Sophisticated or naïve, witty or serious, outgoing or shy, blondes, brunettes, and redheads, they were _willingly_ his for the taking.

There was no reason _whatsoever_ to feel attraction to _this_ woman, who was entirely too young for him (and _still_ not even legal in his country of residence); no reason to react to her like some randy adolescent or aging libertine!

Her quiet voice jerked him from his self-reproach as his feelings of revulsion lingered.

"Whatever it is," she noted half-seriously, gently beginning to pull away from his embrace and coughing slightly. "I do not think it has very long to live."

_His gaze slid back to her face as he reluctantly dropped his arms. While he could tell she was still slightly annoyed with him, unexpectedly being in his arms somehow seemed to have lowered her temper from boiling point to mere simmer, and unless he was mistaken, he could have sworn he saw a hint of amusement on her face._

"I beg your pardon?" He muttered, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"Whatever it is that you have been glaring at over my left shoulder for the last minute. I hope it has legs and can run very quickly."

Franziska had always had a selective sense of humor, often at the most unexpected times, and _this_ one was no exception! If he hadn't been so busy kicking himself, he would've laughed at the quip, which he knew was intended to be her gracious way of conveying exoneration for his earlier insolent comment.

Miles gave her a brief, humorless smile.

"My thoughts drifted. I apologize."

"Oh please, do not apologize!" Her eyes were positively _dancing_ now. "I am most pleased to know that it was not _I_ who brought upon that black scowl on your face."

Biting back an appreciative smile, he couldn't help but marvel that she could convey so many things without moving or speaking. She was innocence on the brink of womanhood, and outrageous daring, untampered by wisdom or hampered by caution. A vision of her gleaming hair spilling over his bare chest flashed through his mind then, and he abruptly shook it off.

"Have you finished staring at me?" She drawled, lifting her pert nose in the air.

Despite the sharp contrast to the stony hauteur of her stance and expression, she was still a glorious display to behold, and Miles was unable to resist the slight smile tugging of his lips.

"I was admiring you, actually."

She blinked in surprise, obviously not anticipating this response, and dropped her gaze to the floor, blushing gorgeously as she did so, and the realization dawned on him that the beautiful young woman had absolutely no idea of just how mesmerizing she was; just what a hypnotic effect she had on him.

"Y – You were _admiring_ me?"

Franziska's obliviousness to her allure only made the girl more compelling to him, which only made him hate himself even more.

"Absolutely, I was," he deadpanned, a mischievous smirk now playing upon his lips as he attempted to restore the natural order between them. "With that dress, all I need now is to get you a blonde wig, and you could easily be the main heroine from _Frozen!_ It is not every day that I get to meet a real-life Disney Princess, after all."

"Are you trying to say that I look like a _cartoon character_ in this new gown, which cost me a small fortune earlier today?" Franziska looked as though she did not know whether to laugh or hit him.

"I am saying, Queen Elsa, is that you look positively _regal_ , and will no doubt be the _belle of the opera_." He gave a slight bow and then straightened, a mischievous glint in his eye as he heard Hans calling Franziska's name from downstairs. "I do believe that your chariot awaits now, Your Majesty."

"That will be Pepé." Franziska straightened her dress, and headed to the door, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "Did you want to come to meet him?"

"No, it's fine. You go enjoy your evening. Do not fret about me." Miles forced himself to smile even wider. "I am quite tired from my flight and will probably just spend my evening resting these _weary, old man bones of mine,_ attempting to recover from the jet lag. It's just as well you and I did not go out for dinner. I highly doubt I would have been good company, anyway."

"At least you are honest, if naught else." She flashed him a cheeky grin, unaware of how attractive it made her. "Have a good evening, Little Brother. I shall see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Franziska." He watched as she turned and left the room, descending the stairs as she met with her escort for the evening in the main foyer.

Pepé Roni had finally arrived.

Unable to resist the curious temptation, Miles cast a quick, cursory glimpse over the railing, and swallowed back a chuckle at the sight below.

 _Evidence of the young man being an **actual member** of the **skunk** family is highly probable!_ _Assuming that ghastly, **white-blond, frontal fringe** , which contrasts quite garishly with the rest of his **faux-hawk, ebony hair** , is anything to go by!_ He smirked pitilessly. _Still, Monsieur Moufette is most fortunate to be attending tonight's show with the most beautiful girl in Europe on his arm, even if she **does** have **questionable taste** in musical theater!_

Despite his antipathy about the songs in the musical, preferring more _actual_ , _classic operas_ such as _Carmen_ , as soon as he heard the front door downstairs shut behind Franziska and her date as they exited for the evening, Miles found himself wandering back into his adopted sister's room. He took a seat next to her desk and flipped the stereo back onto the song she'd been playing, "Think of Me."

Why were these very lyrics, which he'd always dismissed as trite, and jejune, suddenly resonating so heavily with him now?

* * *

_[Christine:]_

**_Think of me  
think of me fondly,  
when we've said  
goodbye.  
Remember me  
once in a while  
please promise me  
you'll try._ **

* * *

**_When you find  
that, once  
again, you long  
to take your heart back  
and be free  
if you  
ever find  
a moment,  
spare a thought  
for me ..._ **

* * *

**_We never said  
our love  
was evergreen,  
or as unchanging  
as the sea  
but if  
you can still  
remember,  
stop and think  
of me ..._ **

* * *

**_Think of all the things  
we've shared and seen -  
don't think about the things  
which might have been ..._ **

* * *

**_Think of me,  
think of me waking,  
silent and  
resigned._ **

* * *

**_Imagine me,  
trying too hard  
to put you  
from my mind._ **

* * *

**_Recall those days,  
look back  
on all those times,  
think of the things  
we'll never do  
there will  
never be  
a day, when  
I won't think  
of you ..._ **

* * *

_[Raoul:]_

**_Can it be?  
Can it be Christine?_ **

* * *

**_What a change!  
You're really  
not a bit  
the gawkish girl  
that once you were ..._ **

* * *

**_She may  
not remember  
me, but  
I remember her ..._ **

* * *

_That_ was it, Miles realized. The male romantic lead…it was _his_ portion of the song lyrics, which were hitting so close to home with him now. The part where Raoul sang of the transformation about the _gawkish girl_ he'd once known, being _completely vanished without a trace_ as he now gazed upon her… _he_ could certainly relate to that, couldn't he? Talk about a literal case of _life_ imitating _art_.

_What a deluded fool I was tonight. How could I have had the hubris to think that if the girl had been worth having, she'd have waited for me? The reality is, the girl worth having will wait for **no one.**_

The barrister sighed heavily and closed his eyes, lost in thought.

_Oh, Franziska. I like to think back to when we were but children. How shy and uncomfortable you were back then. With cheeks that always seemed flushed and curls that did a lively dance when you ran. How different you are now. All the softness of a child is replaced by sharp edges and chiseled lines, and tantalizing curves. Oh, but a bit of softness does remain. Right there on your lips. That same supple dent above that Cupid's bow. The tender curve to your smile. If only you knew how simply taken I am with you..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phantom of The Opera – Think of Me  
> ________________________________________  
> Translations – (danke, RoterSchmetterling!)  
> Schwachkopf – moron  
> Himmeldonnerwetter noch ein mal! – Damn and blast it!  
> verdammten, schwachsinnigen Muttersöhnchen – damned, idiotic mama's boy  
> Spinnst du oder was?- Are you crazy or what?  
> die Dorftrottel – the village idiots


	117. I Only Want To Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long  
> Since I've seen her face  
> You say she's doing fine  
> I still recall  
> A sad cafe  
> How it hurt so bad to see her cry  
> I didn't want to say good-bye
> 
> Send her my love, memories remain  
> Send her my love, roses never fade  
> Send her my love
> 
> The same hotel, the same old room  
> I'm on the road again  
> She needed so much more  
> Than I could give  
> We knew our love could not pretend  
> Broken hearts can always mend
> 
> Send her my love, memories remain  
> Send her my love, roses never fade  
> Send her my love
> 
> Calling out her name I'm dreaming  
> Reflections of a face I'm seeing  
> It's her voice  
> That keeps on haunting me
> 
> Send her my love, memories remain  
> Send her my love, roses never fade  
> Send her my love
> 
> Send her, send her my love  
> Roses never fade  
> Memories remain

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ December 29, 2016  
  


The tantalizing image of her nearly nude Little Brother, wearing nothing but that towel, was a memory that was forever seared into Franziska’s memory, even if she had _tried_ to erase it from her mind, which, of course, she had _zero_ inclination to do, whatsoever! Even now, two years later, the recollection of all that hard and sinewy muscle _,_ on such _lecker_ display _,_ made her toes curl and get a tingly feeling all over, and since then, she had _never_ been able to look at him the same way, ever again!

Two years later, she fiercely hoping to make history repeat itself, except _this_ time, _he_ would be the one with the getting a sight to remember!

Franziska hadn’t seen Miles since the year before at Christmas, when he had been somewhat guarded in her company, and seemed to have a difficult time maintaining eye contact with her, or even _glimpsing_ at her for more than a few seconds, before his gaze darted away, almost _bashfully_! His behavior towards her had been altered ever since the weekend he’d come down for Günther’s birthday party when he had seen her in that killer dress for _Phantom of the Opera._

Normally, she would’ve been bemused and hurt by his distant attitude, and taken as a sign that he was trying to _shun_ her for some unknown reason, but Franziska was older and wiser now and becoming increasingly aware of her feminine wiles, ergo she was more entertained than anything! Over the last year, she had been taking heed to her noticeable appeal with the opposite sex, and it seemed her _Little Brother_ was no exception!

After all, when it came to Miles Edgeworth, Franziska was an _expert_ on jealousy, having experienced it long enough now, so she’d _easily_ recognized the telltale signs when Miles had gotten all _huffy_ about her date with Pepé, who, _for the record_ , contrary to Miles’ insinuations, had been _nothing but a gentleman_! The besotted Frenchman, while incredibly sweet, even if her heart had _not_ already with her Little Brother, could have never been a true contender for her affections, however. This was because his _comical, **odorous mammal** hair coloring _made him _far_ _too open to ridicule_ for her to _ever_ taken seriously! Well, _that_ , plus the fact that he had the _unfortunate first name of a Looney Tune cartoon character_ , _as well as **a pizza topping**_! It had been _nearly painful_ turning down his advances that evening!

The whole _Frozen_ evening gown scenario had worked out even _better_ than Franziska could have hoped! She hadn’t known what time he would be arriving at the house, so her _actual_ initial plan had been to simply look stunning that evening, and hopefully, make Miles realize she wouldn’t always be at his beck and call! Of course, it would’ve been the ultimate bonus to have him still be awake when she returned and seen her in all her splendor, and it seemed the heavens had smiled upon herthat night! He had not only _witnessed_ but then _reacted,_ in the way she’d hoped, to both the sight of Franziska in her full glamazonian mode, as well to the idea of her being out with another man!

Miles’ unmitigated and unmistakable adversarial reaction had been _just_ the confidence boost the German prosecutor had needed, and she’d since been feeling a trifle smug, knowing about the effect she’d had on her Little Brother. Certainly, he couldn’t be _too_ devoted to this mystery woman in the States, to have been exuding such extreme levels of possessiveness and indignationat the idea of his Big Sister going out on a date! Moreover, Franziska was nearly positive she hadn’t imagined that admiration within his eyes that night at the sight of her, in all her finery.

The only caveat was that she’d been unable to catch him doing so again, even though she had worn an equally fetching garment the next day at Günther’s party. Unfortunately, Miles had appeared content to act as though the sparks that had flown between them the night before had merely been a figment of Franziska’s imagination! He hadn’t even looked at her _twice_ since, despite her fervent endeavors!

Embarrassingly enough, her blatant efforts had been glaringly evident enough to be noticed by the ever-observant and somewhat disapproving, Katharina. The elder Von Karma had shaken her head with dismay and told her sister that her conduct that evening was most inappropriate, first continuously accidentally brushing up against him, and then borderline flirting with him the entire evening! Franziska, of course, had hotly denied that she had any idea what foolishness Katharina was waffling about, and had tried to chalk up her grossly misconstrued actions that night as a side effect to having consumed too many glasses of wine!

All the same, despite the party setback, and his mostly averted gaze at Christmas the previous year, Franziska refused to be daunted. She consoled herself with the fact that as he’d known her since she was a toddler, Miles was still possibly struggling with her newfound womanhood and the fact that she had been almost 18, but not quite yet!

This year had been the first Christmas that Miles hadn’t come home, much to her and Katharina’s great concern. He had finally called Franziska earlier that morning and curtly announced that he would explain the circumstances surrounding his holiday absence later and that he would be catching the red-eye and arriving that evening.

Franziska had hugged herself with glee at the thought of déjà vu reoccurring, and now that she was 18, she saw no reason to hold anything back! In anticipation of his arrival, she was spurred into action. Just like last time, she had plans, this time to attend Addie and Élie’s engagement party. They’d be picking her up en route to the soirée, which gave her plenty of time to put her preemptive plans into motion!

Miles had arrived at the house several hours ago and had since holed himself up in his room, barely greeting his Big Sister or any of the servants, but she had just shrugged off his surly disposition as a result of exhaustion and jet lag.

Now, as she stepped out of the shower that evening, she readied herself for Phase 1 of operation: _“Show Irrefutable Evidence to Miles Edgeworth That I Am A Little Girl No longer!”_

 _AKA "I am indeed **every bit as much a woman** as that indecisive **Schlampe** you have a home!" _She would then proceed to _show_ him, firsthand, just _how_ much of a grown woman she now was!

“Little Brother!” Franziska called out the door of her bedroom, opening it just a crack. “The accursed tub in my bathroom is stuck _again_ and I can’t seem to get it unclogged! Could you come in here?”

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ December 29, 2016

All his _journey-bated_ self desperately yearned for, _more than anything else in the world,_ was _sleep_! Miles would have gladly _sold his soul_ for the opportunity to just sink into his soft, familiar bed and fall into a _blissful slumber_ while trying to forget the _hellacious ordeal_ of the past few days!

Destiny, of course, had other plans.

As soon as he’d been released from the detention center that morning, Miles had booked the very first flight possible to Germany. He’d needed to create as much distance as possible between himself, California, the courts… _and that blasted Phoenix Wright!_

He’d thought being charged unjustifiably for murder, and _then_ reliving the most _macabre experience of his life_ , only to discover that the man who’d raised him and he’d looked up to for most of his life had been _the cause of it all_ was enough for _any_ single man to contend with!

Nevertheless, when it _rained_ , it _poured_.

The prosecutor was still struggling with the internal love-hate he felt for his overly determined, too damn trusting for his own good, childhood best friend, first for reappearing in his life again without warning, and _then_ being the first person who would strike down his _perfect_ court record! On top of _that,_ in the act of exonerating him, Phoenix had inadvertently forced Miles to relive the harrowing DL-6 incident, and all the accompanying, repressed trauma, _all over again!_

It had been further overwhelming to fully grasp just _how much_ of an earnest, kind, and heroic sort the spiky-haired man had become; a defense attorney who believed in fairness and justice for all, with wholesome ideals, unrelenting faith in people, and a naïve, but genuine belief in the legal system.

Phoenix was now essentially everything that Miles had always strived to be when he grew up, had the devil that was Manfred Von Karma and the fateful DL-6 case never transpired! He had made Miles question his personal morals, beliefs, and values… while simultaneously dredging up unnecessary feelings he’d long been suppressing beneath his android surface, and resurfacing memories that he tried to keep dead and buried. It was inconceivable how a person whom Miles had not seen in 15 years, had somehow, with his steadfast loyalty and irrepressible good-heartedness, unwittingly forced the stoic prosecutor to unsheathe his icy, stoic veneer, and managed to get under his skin, in a way that nobody, not even _Lana_ , had ever managed to!

 _Lana_.

The damn name now sounded like a curse, even in his mind.

The _axiomatic cherry_ on top of the _shit sundae_ , of course, was Lana Skye herself. As though sensing _the cosmic waves emitting throughout the universe_ , the very _moment_ Miles’ feet had landed on German soil at the airport, out of the blue, his ex had called.

The logic enthusiast didn’t even bother with the standard greetings and salutations.

“Well, I must say that this is a most unanticipated surprise, albeit hardly a _welcome_ one.” His cadence was clipped. “You are _definitely_ the last person I thought I would hear from ever again, _Chief Prosecutor Skye.”_

On the other side of the world, there was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line as his former lover winced at the sound of his scathing tone.

“I’m so sorry, Miles…”

“I imagine you are, as you have _repeatedly_ already expressed as much,” he said bitingly. “However, I am in neither in possession of the _temperament_ nor the _time_ to be dealing with this sort of hogwash, Chief Skye. If there is an _actual_ reason for this phone call, please speak your piece, although I suggest you keep it brief, as you have _precisely_ _two minutes_.”

“Please, don’t be like this,” she pleaded. “You have every right to hate me…”

“While I thank you kindly allowing me as such, rest assured, _I_ don’t think about _you_ … _at all,”_ he replied curtly. “I chose to _purge_ you from my every waking thought in the same manner that _you_ expunged _me_ last week when you, at last, made your choice between myself and Marshall. Your decision was only further _punctuated_ by your visible lack of presence in the courtroom gallery, when I was not only _once_ , but _twice_ nearly indicted for false murder charges. Believe you me, that in itself demonstrated, far better than any words possibly could, where you wish your stance to be henceforth, as much as it was glaringly evident that the phrase _stand by your man_ no longer exists in your particular, feckless universe.”

“Miles…”

“That’s _Prosecutor Edgeworth_ to you now, Chief Skye.”

“ _Please_ forgive me if I made an erroneous judgment with my absence. You _must_ believe me when I tell you that it was _never_ intended to convey _a dismissal_ of _you_ , and all that you meant to me, in _any way_!” She cried helplessly. “I couldn’t see how _any good_ could come from being there and figured that my presence would only complicate matters even further.”

“It certainly wouldn’t be the _first_ time that you made an error in judgment, would it?” He asked silkily, fully aware he was being a complete son of a bitch but not giving a damn!

“I – I honestly thought it would have been hypocritical of me to have been there, as a potentially unnecessary distraction, and I believed perhaps we needed a smidgeon of cooling-off time and space between us…”

“Your wish is my command. I am presently in Germany for the next fortnight to visit my family, as I attempt to put _everything_ from this godforsaken year behind me,” he retorted. “Is approximately _9000 miles_ of space sufficient enough for you?”

“Don’t be like this, I _beg_ you.” Lana sounded as though she were near tears now. “You _have_ to know you meant a lot to me; you _must_ have if I was unable to decide for so long! I still care about you _so much_ , Miles. I – I even think a part of me _did_ lo –”

He refused to let her finish the sentence.

“You have _exactly_ 60 seconds remaining.” The barrister was thoroughly unmoved by the threat of waterworks. “If you wish to squander them _simpering and sniffling_ in an attempt to _unnecessarily_ soothe my ego, and ease your own conscience, so be it. Nevertheless, _you_ need to know that as soon as _this phone call terminates,_ you will _never_ speak to me again in the future, unless it is at the Prosecutor’s Office, and _strictly work-related_. Is that _understood_?”

“Perfectly.” She sniffled and cleared her throat, as though trying to compose herself. “But I didn’t call you _just_ to apologize, Miles. There’s something that you need to know.”

 _I **needed to know** that the woman I **thought** I **loved** , whom I wasted **nearly 2 years** of my life on, would be by my side at my darkest hour!_ He brooded. _I also needed to know that I was partaking in a futile battle I had no chance of **ever** being victorious in! How could I have been so callow that I didn’t see she was simply using me? Of course, **she** could make the rebuttal that we were **using each other** to a certain degree, although I wouldn’t care to hear it! Not **now**! Not after all I’ve just endured…_

“Go on then.” Miles didn’t even bother to disguise the ennui his voice. “30 seconds remaining to regale me with this information which I am _so desperately_ in need of.”

“Miles –”

“Only 25 remain now…”

“Miles…I’m _late,”_ she blurted out. “ _That_ was why I was calling you. I – I thought you had a right to know.”

For perhaps a split second, his nettled state was suspended, the surprise protecting him, until it suddenly shattered, like explosive glass shards. A dull roar flooded Miles’ ears in the next instant as the blood froze in his veins so abruptly, it seemed as though his heart had _literally stopped beating._

_I guess this is what they would call **shock** – something I imagined I’d be **immune** to by this point! I can **feel** my brain desperately scrambling to make sense of it, as it has momentarily seized an actual **inability to compute** and is thus unable to comprehend what has just occurred._

Miles stood as gormless as a guppy; as if paralyzed from the neck up. When he finally spoke, his voice trailed slowly, as if unwilling to take flight.

“ _H –How_ could this have happened?” He had to sink into a nearby seat in the airport lounge, as his legs threatened to give out beneath him. “You told me that you were _protected.”_

“I _am!”_ Lana wailed, openly crying now. “I mean – I _was!_ It’s just… things _happen…_ ”

_Damn right things happen! **Two bloody years** happened! Two years of laughing and crying and consoling and **passion** … All water under the bridge now, and probably best forgotten… Only to suddenly reemerge and **result in a bastard love child** , which I’m not even sure is **mine**!_

“We will discuss the matter _that a DNA test_ will be a _prerequisite_ before any part of _this_ conversation goes any further.” Miles dragged together the rags of his composure. “So, I’m just going to ask the more pressing question, which is how soon until we know for sure?”

“I – I went to get the blood work done today.” Her voice was shaking. “I should know tomorrow or the day after.”

“Have you discussed this with Marshall?” He demanded tersely. “Does he know that he is _also_ the fellow candidate in the running for being a father?”

“N – Not yet. I thought I would at least give you the courtesy of telling you first about the possibility.”

The shell-shocked prosecutor knew this would have been the prime opportunity to ask her _how_ she was going to proceed if the results came back positive, and what she would tell her _cuckolded_ lover if _anything_. Would _Miles_ get a reprieve if she planned to pass off the baby as Marshall’s, relieving him of all responsibility? Alternatively, would she confess about her faithlessness and succumb them _both_ to a paternity test?

However, these were inquiries that his temporarily incapacitated mouth could not seem to form at the moment.

As though in a daze, Miles heard his unrecognizable voice making the command to be informed as soon as possible before he hung up the phone and remained seated there, shaking his head in disbelief.

He felt as though he were in some _godawful nightmare_ from which he could not awaken! _These_ sorts of things just didn’t _happen_ to people like _him_ , who were always so _methodical_ and _careful!_ He wasn’t some imbecilic, reckless teenager who had irresponsibly overindulged in alcohol! He was _in his 20’s,_ a High Prosecutor at the _height of his career_ , despite his recent courtroom setbacks, and he didn’t know the first thing about fatherhood or children, or even if _either_ was something he had ever wanted for his future!

Sitting on his bed now, mulling over the dilemma for the umpteenth time, Miles couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what he would do in the worst-case scenario.

 _How can the same outcome mean so many different things for so many different people?_ He wondered, burying his still throbbing skull in his hands. _Surely, for Lana and Jake, this baby shall be a mixed blessing, but for **myself** , it will signify the proverbial **end of my life, as I know it!**_

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ December 29, 2016

****

At that moment, Franziska called out to him about the plumbing emergency in her lavatory, shattering his reverie of _what-if_ and dragging him back to the present.

Miles heaved a great sigh, uncertain if he was grateful for aggravated for the interruption. It sounded ridiculous, rushing to Germany to escape the whole Lana situation, _yet again,_ even though doing so meant seeing Franziska, which was another _can of worms_ entirely!

He was _still_ struggling with his inner turmoil of the disquietude his newfound attraction to his Big Sister the previous year had caused him. Despite having been roped into a love triangle for so long, Miles himself had never been the type to _ever_ _be torn in two_ about _anything_ , work, women, or otherwise! If anything, he suffered from _tunnel vision_ because of the tendency to have a _singular focus_ on all matters, which could never be _diverted_ by _anything_! That was one of the things about him that often drove the tempestuous Franziska crazy; his ability to always stay unaffected and impassively calm, even when faced with adversity; his refusal to be ruffled by emotions, and just focusing _solely_ on problem-solving the situation at hand.

Therefore, his admitted lust-fueled jealousy about the idea of Franziska being with another man, all the while being in a relationship, such as it was, with Lana, was so _out of character_ for him that it _still_ boggled his mind, and had made him keep the _titillating teen_ at arm’s length ever since!

At the moment, _said temptress_ was calling him to her bathroom.

It was no big deal, Miles convinced himself. He knew that she had plans that evening, which she was now obviously getting ready for, so he would come and fix her bathtub issue – _avert his gaze_ as much as humanly probable – and then make as gracious a retreat as possible back to the solace of his chambers.

As the prosecutor entered the bathroom adjoining Franziska’s bedroom, an _unexpectedly lovely_ sight awaited him. There, _in nothing but a towel_ wrapped around her fresh from the bath, _wet, glistening skin_ , stood Franziska. Her soft, ivory shoulders and toned legs were delightfully exposed, as was essentially the rest of her flawless skin, and her damp silvery hair was tousled around her rosy face. Her full lips looked dewy from the steamy bath, and a curved into an awkward smile at the sight of him.

The German’s heart skipped a beat at his direct gaze, and her pulse started beating way too fast. Her nerves tingled under his scrutiny, and she had to fight the urge to feign modesty and cover her breasts. Instead, she forced herself to keep her expression lofty and unfazed as she felt his eyes drinking in the sight of her. She anxiously wished his unreadable expression wasn’t so guarded, and that he _liked_ what he saw!

Miles felt his throat constricting as he looked at her with hungry eyes, all thoughts of Lana completely vanquished from his mind. During his more _impure contemplations_ since he had seen her in that magical dress, he’d _not so idly_ wondered _what lay beneath it_. And now, the _answer_ to his speculation was _only a foot away_ from him, on _nearly full, tantalizing display_! He let out a soundless whistle through his teeth and jerked his head away, unsure _which_ of the two of them was redder in the face!

“Should I give you a moment to get a robe?” He asked quickly, feigning interest in the still full bathtub and its rapidly dissipating bubbles. “I apologize …I didn’t realize that you were not quite decent when I rushed in here.”

“Well, better _you_ than _Hans!”_ She shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the fact that only approximately  
two feet of terrycloth were all that separated her lush, ripe physique from his stare. “I would not want to give the poor man a heart attack! However, the servants have all retired or left for the evening, so _you_ were better than _nothing_!”

“Thanks _so much_ , Franziska,” he returned dryly. “You are _far_ too kind!”

“I was in a rush to try to get ready for the party as I hurriedly stepped out of the tub, you see. I was already in my bedroom before I realized I didn’t hear the tub draining.” She blinked at him innocently as she shrugged her shoulders, the seemingly innocuous action causing her breasts to further press up against the clinging towel tucked around them. Miles quickly dropped his gaze. “You managed to arrive at the scene before I could better cover myself. Have you been sprint trainingin your free time, Little Brother?”

 _“Ngh!”_ He found himself at a loss for words, and instead focused on pushing up his sleeves as he studied the bathwater. “I have to get used to how different the bathroom fixtures are here than they are in my Los Angeles condominium. If I remember correctly from the _last_ time this happened, your tub has a strange sort of built-in stopper, which likes to get _jammed_ on occasion…” He leaned over, dunked his hand into the water, and busied himself with unscrewing the cumbersome metal piece. In the meantime, Franziska shamelessly admired the way the thin material of his dress shirt strained across the muscles of his back as he yanked at the stopper.

 _Mein Gott, he gets even **tastier** as the years go by!_ She bit her lip _. If only he’d stop being so stubborn and just admit that **he** sees **me** in the same manner now! After all, I am now **legally** a grown woman! So, just what is holding him back?!_

“There we go!” Miles announced triumphantly a moment later, having unscrewed the stopper, resulting in the bathwater now draining with complete ease. He arched an eyebrow at her. “The drain is also undoubtedly clogged with your hair, Franziska! Might I suggest a hairnet next time you bathe?”

“Very funny!” She stuck her tongue at him, and then leaned forward, making sure that her chest _accidentally_ grazed against him as she placed a grateful kiss on his cheek, smiling smugly to herself as he blushed slightly. “ _Danke_ , Little Brother. _Whatever_ would I do without you?”

“ _Throw the baby out with the bathwater_ , I imagine,” Miles replied wryly, stepping away from her and out of the bathroom within two strides. He made a noticeable point to keep his eyes diverted as he did so. “I am weary from the long flight Franziska, so I’m going to go lie down now. In case I’m asleep by the time you leave, I hope you have a great evening, and please convey my congratulations to your friends on their engagement.”

With that, he all but _raced_ out of there!

Franziska was only slightly bothered at his hasty exit. As far as she was concerned, Phase 1 of her plan had still been a partial success, as she had once again seen that same look in his eye, which he’d _eventually_ been _unable to disguise_! Oh, he was _aware_ of her, all right! He was still _amusingly and endearingly_ **_uncomfortable_** with the idea of her womanhood, but _fully aware_ of it, nonetheless! She was pretty sure that as much as the memory of _him_ in _naught but a towel_ would linger in _her_ mind forever, so would the image _he_ had just been privy to, whether he _liked it or not!_

 _Although judging by the heated look I saw in those smoldering grey eyes_ , she giggled softly to herself. _He **liked it** more than he cared to admit!_

_The curve of Franziska’s full, heaving breast fitted perfectly in the palm of his hand. She moaned his name in her ear as he trailed a burning path with his lips from her earlobe, down to her throat, and then dipped his tongue to run it alongside her…_

“Miles?”

His eyes flew open as he jerked up in bed like a marionette whose strings had just been yanked, feeling a slight sweat forming at his brow as his discombobulated mind realized that he’d been having the mother of all erotic dreams! As he rapidly blinked, he realized the sound of his name, which had just awoken him, had been uttered by the very real-life, in the flesh woman who’d just starred in his X-rated fantasy dream sequence – and was currently standing right at his bedside!

 _“Franziska!”_ He croaked, his eyes wide as he felt a guilty flush staining up his cheeks, as though his naughty dream could be seen as a flashing screen across his forehead. “What the devil are you doing in my room?”

“That is _all_ you have to say to me?” She pouted, doing a quick turnaround so he could admire her in her evening apparel. “Have you _no_ manners at all? Should a gentleman not always comment on the appearance of a lady?”

Miles gulped.

She was his real-life fantasy come to life.

Her flawlessly made-up silver eyes shone like twin moons. She wore a form-fitting black evening dress that hugged her every curve, with a built-in, black sequined band around her slender waist and _plunging V-neckline_ , where the can’t-miss, creamy swells of her breasts were temptingly displayed. The dress was sleeveless, with spaghetti straps and an open back, showing off the smooth, ivory skin of her spine, with crisscross straps. It was a thigh-high, silk dress under black, ankle-length, lace lining with long side slits, displaying her beautiful, toned legs.

The cravat-wearer had never seen her look more exquisitely beautiful … or maddeningly seductive. He hated the way his body was reacting to her, especially right now, with the looming possibility of unplanned fatherhood and illegitimate offspring hanging over his head like a machete! The distraction of another femme fatale was what he needed as much of the boot to the head!

 _“Ngh…”_ He racked his mind to find some appropriate words of appreciation that didn’t entail divulging the fact that she was his every waking dream come to life, but found none.

Franziska heaved a disappointed sigh at his lack of response and then turned her back to him while lifting her satiny hair.

“I wanted to wear Mama’s pearls to the soirée tonight, but cannot manage the clasp by myself. Could you help me?”

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he reluctantly rose in the bed, thanking all that was holy that the telltale erection with which he had woken up from his nap had finally subsided! She tipped her head forward, which only resulted in her swelling buttocks lightly grazing the front of his body as she did so, and he felt himself stiffen and his breath catch once again. His normally deft fingers felt awkward and clumsy as he fiddled with the delicate clasp, and he felt her fidgeting impatiently at the delay. He could feel the warmth of her swan-like neck beneath his fingertips, and his head felt light from the seductive scent of her perfume.

At last, Miles managed to get the necklace on but found he couldn’t move his hands away quickly enough, his fingers lingering at the nape of her neck as though they had a mind of their own, even though his brain was screaming at him to _run_ , not _walk_ away from her before something regrettable happened.

She spun around before she could think. Suddenly, it wasn’t her backside feeling his hardened muscles. Since he’d been standing so close behind her, they were now flush against each other. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest, the lower halves of their bodies were shockingly aligned, and their thighs were touching. Their mouths were within inches of each other, and their breath mingled. It was crazy, but Franziska was sure she felt their hearts beating in rhythm. She began to tingle everywhere and held her breath.

Their gazes met and held and Miles became motionless, unable to mask the flagrant desire in his eyes any longer. It struck her that she was seeing a dangerous side of him, the hunter sizing up the situation and preparing for action, ready to pounce.

When his orbs fell to her mouth she began to tremble, but not from fear. A sliver of excitement shot through her. She held her breath in anticipation. Then, as quickly as it happened, it was over. Miles jerked away from her as though he’d been scorched, stepping back so abruptly that the mattress caught the back of his knees, and he tumbled back onto the bed.

Franziska refused to let this opportunity go to waste. She stepped toward him, bending forward so that her aptly displayed cleavage was at eye level to him while she unflinchingly looked him right in the eye.

“That is the _second_ time tonight you have gallantly assisted me, Miles Edgeworth,” she breathed in her most sultry tone. “How rude of me to have not yet _properly_ thanked you for all your help…”

She put her lips so close to his face they were practically grazing against his, but at the last split-second, Miles sharply turned his head, and pushed back at her shoulders, shaking his head violently as she stumbled back.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” His voice shook as he glowered at her.

“I – I …” She was taken aback by the anger on his face. “I just…”

“I have been through hell and back this past week, I am sleep deprived and jetlagged, and am in no mood for your childish games!” His grey eyes were as cold as ice. “So, go play them elsewhere – or just grow the hell up, Franziska!”

“I –I was not –” She was speechless at his quiet rage, even though he hadn’t raised his voice. Nonetheless, his cold fury frightened her as much as it bewildered her.

“Is _this_ the way that you have been raised, Franziska Von Karma?” He demanded harshly. “To act like a _wanton_ with no dignity, and _dress_ the part as well?”

She reeled back as though he’d slapped her. Never before had she ever seen him look at her with such outright _condemnation._

“Y – You think I am dressed _immodestly_?” Her hands self-consciously fluttered up to her cleavage, as though to shield them from his scornful gaze. The misery was evident in her voice as she stammered out her words. “Y - You did not say anything until now, b – but I was _hoping_ …I – I mean, I _thought_ that _maybe_ you would…”

“I chose to remain silent, as I was always taught that if I had nothing nice to say, to keep mum, as I, at least, was raised to be a gentleman!” He snapped, turning his face away as though he could not even stand the sight of her. “Fine! If you honestly want to know what I have to say about your ensemble – may I would suggest that you have some decency and cover yourself? I saw less bare skin when you are only wearing your towel! I thought you were a lady, Franziska, but for one reason or another, tonight you seem to be content to dress and _act_ the part of nothing but a … tramp!”

Franziska felt her lip quiver as hot tears stung the back of her eyes, but she was too proud to let them fall in front of him. Never would she _ever_ let him know just how deeply his words had cut her, like a stab wound to the heart.

How could she have so grossly misjudged the situation? She had been so assured ever since the year prior that Miles looked at her in a different light now, and at the very least was attracted to her now that it was no longer illegal for him to do so! Be that as it may, in the end, it didn’t matter, as he appeared fiercely loyal to his partner back in the United States. Alternatively, for whatever reason, he was contented to merely devour her with his eyes, while still keeping her at arm’s length, but do nothing about it, and continue to speak to her as though she were a stranger.

No, worse … a _tramp_. That was what he’d said.

She died a little inside.

Miles Edgeworth, the man whom she’d loved nearly her whole life, more than anything in the world … _that_ was what he thought of her? That she was a _tramp_? A woman of _loose morals_?! Had she not been so heartbroken at the idea, it would’ve been laughable. After all, she was _still a virgin,_ for the love of God! She had put so much _effort and care_ into her appearance for the last _hour_ , hoping she could show him how grown-up and how desirable she could look, and he _still_ thought of her as nothing more than a little girl playing dress-up – playing _games_. All these years she had been pining for him, waiting for the secondhand of the clock to allow her to catch up… All for _nothing_.

Evidently, she had been mistaken. He didn’t want her after all.

_He never had, and he never would._

Mercifully, at that exact moment, the doorbell rang. Her ride had arrived.

The loud chime below resonated throughout the excruciatingly silent room and appeared to have the effect of snapping Miles out of his incensed mood. An immediate look of contrition came over his face as he saw the agony in her eyes.

“Franziska…” He reached out a hand towards her. “I never should have said that. I didn’t mean…”

She wildly shook her head as she blinked against the now burning unshed tears. She _had_ to get out of there. She swallowed back the sob building in her throat, and with a wordless cry, turned and raced from the room.

“Franziska, wait!” Miles called frantically.  
  
She didn’t turn around, making it down the stairs and out the door, slamming it hard behind her by the time the pursuing barrister made it to the bottom of the stairway.

The prosecutor bit back a savage curse. He had _just_ reached the _newest pinnacle_ of self-loathing. What demon had just possessed him? _How_ could he have _done_ that to her? Sure, her _timing_ _couldn’t have been_ **_worse_** , and maybe he hadn’t been wrong to halt the kiss, consequently, but he also hadn’t needed to _tear away every shred of her pride and dignity_ in his attempts to thwart her advances, either!

Miles Edgeworth was no less a cold-hearted bastard than Manfred Von Karma.

_Goddammit! What is **wrong** with me?! I will never forget that look on her face for as long as I live! As God is my witness, I will apologize to Franziska if it’s the last thing I do! I’ll wait up for her if I have to, regardless of how late she gets in! Having left things the way they are, it’s not as if I’ll be able to get any more sleep, anyway …_

The German woman all but _leaped_ into the white limousine in the front driveway.

“Good evening, lovebirds!” She trilled, forcing a smile in greeting at Addie and Élie before leaning forward to kiss them both in greeting. “Thanks so much for coming to get me! Élie, you look positively _dashing_ in that black tuxedo! You could be a Gentleman Ken!”

Her blond friend chuckled at the bizarre compliment and beamed at her. “ _Merci beaucoup… je pense? Et vous êtes très belle ce soir, mon amie.”_

 _“Danke,”_ Franziska murmured, thankful for the kind words, which her battered ego so desperately needed. She gratefully accepted the glass of celebratory champagne he poured from the ice bucket, which she downed in one swallow. It would be the first of the many she would require to try to eradicate the excruciating scene at the house with her Little Brother. As far as she was concerned, if Miles Edgeworth didn’t want her, come hell or high water, she would find some man who would – that night!

“I’m glad his eyes are _brown_ instead of _blue_ if _that’s_ what keeps him from being the _gay half_ of an iconic toy couple, who are now broken up if I’m not mistaken,” Addie tittered, smiling lovingly at her fiancé. “Contrary to the popular 90’s song “Barbie Girl” by Aqua, I don’t think _life in plastic_ _is fantastic!_ ”

“You look so beautiful in that mauve strapless gown, my friend!” Franziska beamed at her childhood friend. “I _love_ what your stylist did to your hair, with those curls bouncing around your shoulders like a golden halo. Just _look_ at you, you’re positively _glowing!_ Being engaged must agree with you!”

The blond couple regarded one another, identical smirks on their faces.

“Do you want to tell her or should I?” The Frenchman asked his fiancée, who giggled once more, and who, Franziska suddenly noticed, had not even _touched_ her champagne flute!

“ _Glowing_ … _not drinking_ the bubbly that came with the limo…” A sneaking suspicion suddenly dawned upon the prosecutor as her eyes lit up. “ _Mein Gott!_ Addie … are you _pregnant?!”_

“About 12 weeks,” the tiny blonde blushingly affirmed, placing a protective hand over her stomach. “Though we haven’t made that public knowledge yet, except to our dearest friends and family, so your discretion would be most appreciated, Franziska.”

“Of _course!”_ She exclaimed delightedly. “So, do you know what you’re having?”

“It’s twins!” Élie announced proudly. “A boy _and_ a girl! We’ve already picked the names - Archer and Adelisa.”

“Oh, that’s so pretty!” Franziska exclaimed, and then halted as the realization dawned on her, and she bit back a laugh. “Wait … _Archer_? Your son’s name is going to be _Archer Sterling?”_

“Sterling _is_ my last name.” The future groom looked at her blankly, obviously not understanding the cause of mirth. “What of it?”

“Oh, nothing,” the silver-haired _Frau_ replied hastily, pouring herself another glass of champagne. “ _Nothing_ _at all!”_

“It’s hard to believe that at one point, you and I were on the same path in life, Franziska” Addie remarked. “We’re the same age, except _I’m_ gonna be up to my wrists in poopy diapers, while _you_ get off on a fascinating career path and take over the legal world by storm! If you weren’t such a dear friend, I’d be a little bit jealous!”

“Do not be foolish, you fool of a girl!” She swallowed against the lump in her throat her friend’s harmless words had unwittingly caused. “It is _I_ who should envy _you!_ You not only look like a princess tonight, but have _already_ found your Prince Charming, and are on the path to _happily ever after!”_

“Prince Charming? I think I prefer _that_ title to _Ken_!” Élie joked, clinking his glass to hers. _“Santé!”_

“To finding your Prince!” Franziska smiled an overly bright beam as she raised her flute, trying to squash down the dull ache in her chest. “May the both of you have an eternal path of love everlasting, that _each and every one of us_ _should be so lucky_ if we someday find, as well!”

* * *

 ** _Later that evening…_** **  
**

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Adelaide and Élie’s Engagement Party  
_ December 29, 2016  


Franziska pulled her dress a little lower and pushed her bosom out a little further. She rumpled a hand through her hair frequently to draw attention to it. A few more cocktails later, she was ready to move with the music, hands in the air, body moving like an uncoiling rope, eyes on fire. The joy was like a shot of adrenaline to the heart and all at once, she was moving, at one with the music and with every crazy person dancing in the place.

_Addie told me that there’s going to be a band playing later, but I’m perfectly happy with whatever’s playing on the stereo! This music is amazing! I can’t believe they even have classic tunes like Dusty Springfield’s “I Only Want to Be With You!”_

* * *

**** **_You stopped and smiled at me,_ **  
**_I asked if you cared to dance,_ **  
**_you fell into my open arms,_ **  
**_I didn't stand a chance._ **

* * *

  
  
**_Now, listen, honey, I just want to be beside you everywhere._ **   
**_As long as we're together, honey, I don't care_ **   
**_'Cause you started something, can't you see._ **   
**_Ever since we met you've had a hold on me._ **   
**_No matter what you do, I only want to be with you._ **

* * *

The prosecutor had lost count of how many drinks she’d consumed at this point. At the time, getting to the point where she was _three sheets to the wind_ hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea.

_With each cocktail, it gets easier and easier to forget my earlier heartache. The jokes get funnier, I become a comedienne of epic proportions, and I can flirt with any boy who catches my eye tonight. I feel pretty, witty, and cool, and am the belle of the dance floor!_

Suddenly, the music switched to a slower tempo, and like Noah’s Ark, everybody turned into a _gruesome twosome_ as Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” began to play. Scowling, Franziska stomped off the dance floor and stood at the sidelines, crossing her arms as she stonily eyed the entranced, swaying couples, all lost in the spell of one another’s arms.

 ** _Why_** _can I not **ever** seem to escape this **wretched** tune?!_ Franziska thought peevishly as she grumpily listened to the song that was _always_ going to remind her of her Little Brother for the rest of her days. _It’s not even romantic really… It’s about a couple who is never going to be in sync with one another and one is always leaving the other behind! Humph! Is it any wonder why it happens to remind me of a **certain someone,** who **shall remain nameless?!**_

* * *

****

**_Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,_ **   
**_And think of you_ **   
**_Caught up in circles confusion -_ **   
**_Is nothing new_ **   
**_Flashback - warm nights -_ **   
**_Almost left behind_ **   
**_Suitcases of memories,_ **   
**_Time after -_ **

* * *

**_  
_**

Franziska felt a wave of tears threatening to consume her. She couldn’t stand to listen to the lyrics another moment. Mumbling her excuses as she pushed her way through the crowd, she distraughtly sought the bathrooms, eager for the chance to touch up her lipstick and compose herself. There was _no way_ she was going to have a _drunken breakdown_ at her best friend’s engagement party!

 _Damn you, Miles Edgeworth!_ She squeezed her eyes shut against the barely suppressed tears. _Damn you to hell!_

After several moments, the urge to weep finally subsided, and she felt ready to go back to the party. She plucked another drink from the tray of a passing server and downed it in one gulp. She was ready to party again.

Just then, she heard live music beginning to play and craned her neck over the crowded sea of heads as the popular 80’s song “Boom Boom Boom (Let's Go Back To My Room)” by Paul Lekakis began to play from the raised platform stage in the corner of the room.

 _It seems the band has arrived at last. Élie_ _told me all these guys went to school with us back in the day but damned if I recognize my own handin front of my face in **my** current state!_

As Franziska threw herself onto the dance floor, shimmying her hips in time to the beat – it was a wonderful opportunity to show off her finely-honed dancer skills – she looked up then and felt her mouth go dry at the sight of the band’s lead singer.

 _An Aryan dream if there ever was one!_ A speculative smile curled on her lips. _Hmmm… He seems to be checking **me** out too. I love the fact that he couldn’t look **any less** like **him** if he **tried!**_

 _Him_. Franziska licked her lips speculatively, feeling every bit the desirable siren as she felt his heated stare from the stage. 

_He_ was the one. 

_Tonight_.

She must have him.

She _would_ have him.

* * *

  
**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany  
_ December 30, 2016, 1:15 AM

_Home sweet home._

Her breath was the underlying cause of the strong stench of alcohol that entered her nostrils, and her mouth was sore from the amount of liquor that she’d poured down her throat all night. The taxi driver had had to _escort_ her to the front door because Franziska felt as steady as a leaf in a storm. 

The stairs she usually took two at a time now appeared as a _mountain_ , one to be negotiated on _all fours_. Her arms were placed flat down on the carpeted staircase as she crawled up, and with each push, her back end swayed like a horse under tranquilizer. Her head was spinning in a way that just made no sense. It was as though her house was put on a _carousel_ , slow at first, but gaining momentum…

Franziska swayed as she stood up at the top landing. Clutching the walls to steady herself, she staggered towards her room, only to nearly fall back down in an unbalanced attempt to walk into her dark bedroom, where she fervently sought the comfort of her bed to overtake the state of drunkenness and clumsily fumbled for the light switch. 

She was barely in the door when she saw a girl with clownish make-up staring at her. Her hair was a mess and her cheeks were flushed red. Her lacy bra was exposed above the low-cut line of her dress, which appeared to have something spilled down the front. When Franziska took a step forward, so did the girl.

_Who is the mysterious foolish girl who looks like an inebriated tramp and dares to invade my space!_

Furious, Franziska attempted to swat the strange girl out of her way, and struck the mirror, hard. There was a loud cracking sound as a vertical line slowly formed down the middle, severing her reflection in the glass in half.

She stood before the looking glass of her vanity and stared at herself, or at least, the _distorted image of herself_. The mirror showed her the girl the rest of the world saw. It was _all_ they saw, yet somehow, it didn't seem _right_. Inside she was fireworks and rage, love and frustrations, ambition, and fear. All _they_ saw was silver hair and the hardened, determined, metallic eyes. She was no longer the doe-eyed little girl she’d once been. Her characteristics had become harsher, her eyes were always glaring, and her stance was intimidating; like a person who was forced to grow up way too soon.

_But I’m **not** grown up. Not according to **him**. **He** told me that I should grow up, and stop playing childish games…_

Her face crumpled at the memory and she sank to the floor then, too devastated to even cry.

“Franziska?”

She jolted at the sound of her name coming from the doorway and looked up, her semi-blurry eyes resting on Miles, who had stridden into the room and was now standing above her, his face wreathed with concern. He crouched down in front of her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“Franziska, I heard the glass break. Your mirror is broken. Did you hit it?”

She ignored him and just closed her eyes, hoping he would take the hint and just leave her in her drunken misery.

“Franziska, _please_! Let me see your hand.” There was urgency in his voice now as he tugged at her resisting arm, trying to look at her palm.

“Go away!” She mumbled, turning her head away and swatting impotently at him with her free hand. He caught it, then grasped her other one, and turned both of them over, heaving a relieved sigh when he saw that neither one of them had been cut by the glass.

“Franziska, get off the floor,” he ordered gently, his eyes soft. “ _Why_ are you on the floor?”

She remained silent and just sat curled up in a little ball, tucking her knees under her chin and dropping her head down upon them. He had never seen her like this before, and it was _gutting_ him.

“Just _go,_ Miles. Just go… like you _always_ do… Go…and leave me behind.” She whispered raggedly, dropping her head down into her hands. “This time, I’ll stop trying to catch up to you. And I am on the floor because there was no nearby _gutter_ for _tramps like me_ to roll around in.”

“ _Please_ forgive me for that, Franziska.” His heart lurched in his chest. He still could not _believe_ he had ever said such a thing to her. “There is _no excuse what_ soever for the way I acted towards you earlier, but you _have_ to know that it had _nothing_ to do with you. I _swear_ to you that it didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Fine, I forgive you,” she muttered, still refusing to look at him. “But you should not be sorry. I _am_ a tramp. Worse – a _Schlampe!_ Who else but a _Schlampe_ would go and ..?”

Her voice trailed off, and she buried her head in her hands.

Alarm bells ring through his head.

“Franziska, talk to me,” he pleaded urgently, shaking her shoulder. “Did something happen tonight at that party?”

She looked up at him finally, with haunted, bloodshot eyes. Miles could tell that she had been drinking, that was evident, but more than anything, she just looked … _broken_. 

That was when he knew. 

_Somehow_ , in _some_ way… He just… _knew_.

Gently, tenderly, as though handling a newborn, Miles wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tried to pull her to her feet, to get her to bed. However, the moment she tried to take put a foot forward, she was as shaky as a baby taking its first steps, and nearly fell over. Thus, without a moment’s hesitation, he leaned down and scooped her up under the knees, lifting her effortlessly up into his arms.

“Oh, Miles!” She wailed, burying her face in his shoulder. “I am such a foolish, foolish, _fool!”_

“Shhh.” He rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “It’s OK. You’re safe. I’m here now, and I am _never_ going to let anything happen to you, _ever again_.”

Miles set her down on the bed and sat down next to her. He reached for her hand, and this time, while she didn’t return the gesture, she didn’t resist.

“I know this might be very hard for you to answer,” he began painfully. “But I _need_ you to be honest with me, Franziska. At that party … did _he_ … did _they_ … _force_ you…?”

“To _surrender my virtue?”_ She asked dully, regarding him with deadened eyes as she yanked her hand away. “ _N – Nein.”_

She shook her silvery head and turned her face away from him.

“Nobody _took_ anything from me, Miles. I – _gave_ it to him. _Willingly_. B – but…it was _so…so_ …”

She couldn’t even finish before she dissolved into tears.

He didn’t need her to complete the unspeakable sentence, and while he had never been a violent man in his life, he knew that there would be no mercy if he ever laid eyes on the _Hurensohn_ that had violated her. Consensual or not, he had a pretty good idea of what had happened to her at that party, without needing to hear the gory details. It was something _no woman_ should have _ever_ had to endure, and he wished with all his heart that he could _flog_ the _Scheißkerl,_ until _no flesh remained on his bones!_

Franziska glanced down at her visible brassiere, which barely held in place her almost fully exposed breasts. In horror, she realized she probably _looked_ every bit the _dirty girl_ Konrad had referred to her as, and every bit the _tramp_ that Miles had told her she was, to have them flaunted like this and to have paraded her body about in such a manner! Drowning in shame and self-loathing, she yanked hard at the neckline of her dress, struggling to pull it higher up to better cover herself. Without thinking, Miles hastily unbuttoned his pajama top and draped the too-large item over her shoulders like a cape, which she clutched tightly closed with her clenched fist as she turned her violated body away.

He put a hand on her shoulder, gently trying to turn her resisting form towards him, but she recoiled as though singed by his touch as that haunted look returned to her face.

“Do not touch me!” She shrieked as she furiously shrugged his hand from her. “I – I will whip you to shreds if you do!” The substance of the threat was diminished by the muffled sobs that followed it and seemed to go on forever. It was like a dagger to his chest.

“Talk to me,” he implored, dropping his hand reluctantly. “Please, just tell me what happened.”

“I feel so ashamed, Miles!” She cried brokenly. “He – he made me feel so _cheap_! Like a filthy _Hure!”_

“Don’t feel ashamed,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “If anyone should be ashamed, it’s the _Saukerl_ who took your innocence and made you feel so badly. _You_ have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I –I do not know what I was thinking!” She choked. “Or _why_ I even did it!”

 ** _I_** _do._ Miles expelled a ragged breath as he lambasted himself yet again for what he instinctively  
realized his culpability for this entire tragedy. _I am all too painfully cognizant of **why** you felt compelled to do it, Franziska, and all I can now do is hope to God that someday, you’ll forgive me for it._

With shattering remorse, he gathered her gently into his arms and shifted on the bed to lie beside her. Without a word, her resistance dissolved entirely, and she turned her face into his chest and wept. He lay there, holding her defiled body cradled against him, stroking the rumpled silk of her hair as he lashed himself with the tears that poured from her eyes and drenched his chest.

What had happened to her tonight _was_ partially his fault. He knew this even if she didn’t. However, he also knew that he was willing to spend _the rest of his life_ making it up to her. Not because he felt like he _had_ to, but because he genuinely _wanted_ to.

As Miles held the sobbing Franziska in his arms, he felt such a surge of protective tenderness…and a nearly overwhelming, almost _insurmountable_ need to shield her, and take care of her. It was a feeling of pure surrender and selflessness, and unlike anything, he’d ever felt in his entire life. Even with Lana, with whom he had been widely infatuated, it wasn’t comparable. With his ex, he had always felt more of a predatory need to triumph over his rival, which had fueled his relentless and insatiable need to _conquer_ , to _own_ , to _possess_ her. It had all been a matter of _pride_.

With Franziska, there was none of that. It was so much simpler: He wanted her and she wanted him. _The end._

She had wanted him, and if _he_ weren’t so damn stubborn and she wasn’t so _damn young_ , he would’ve known it long ago. She wanted him, and now that it was legal in _both_ his countries of residence, Miles could now freely admit that he wanted Franziska more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted to fill her days with joy in her nights with pleasure until she loved him as much as he loved her.

_Loved her?_

He scowled darkly at the thought and then with a long, derisive sigh, he, at last, admitted the verity to himself. At that moment, the truth hit him like a ton of bricks, which he sheepishly admitted he _should_ have acknowledged earlier that evening, and he _would_ have… had he not been _distracted_ by other _potential gloom and doom scenarios!_

Miles Edgeworth was hopelessly, truly, madly, deeply in love with Franziska Von Karma.

After a near quarter-century, after more than enough meaningless encounters, he had fallen victim to an outrageously impertinent, gorgeous, girl-woman, who blithely incurred his displeasure, mocked him at every turn and flatly refused to yield to any sort of authority. Her smile warmed his heart and her touch heated his blood. She could enchant, amuse, and infuriate him, as no other woman had _ever_ been able to do, and he couldn’t imagine his future without her at his side.

Having admitted all of that to himself, he was even more eager to tell her, to feast his eyes on her again and hold her in his arms in a more positive time, to hear her musical voice and know the exquisite sensation of her slender voluptuous body curved against his.

_But the timing isn’t right. It’s not meant to be right now, not when she’s already so shattered and so vulnerable. I could never take advantage of her in such a manner. For the love of God, I **still** haven’t even told her and Katharina about Manfred yet! In the meantime, I just want to comfort her and take care of her; it’s what any man would do for the woman he loves._

Franziska’s tears had ceased by now. Rolling her onto her back, he leaned down over to her, and even though she did not need air, she drew in a slight breath nonetheless at the undisguised tenderness on his handsome face. His fingers slid easily and familiarly through her hair, and his breath ran warm across her skin. She had to close her eyes, and her hands braced lightly against his shoulders as she looked up at him with liquid silver eyes.

“I’m _never_ going to be so far ahead of you that you can’t catch up with me, Franziska Von Karma.” He vowed. “I made you that promise when you were a young girl, and I’m making it again to you now. I don’t think I would ever not want you to be by my side, in some way, _no matter_ _where_ I go.”

Their eyes locked. Slate on silver. There was a peaceful stillness between them, without a need for words. 

But then the moment was broken, as just then, Franziska’s cell phone rang in her purse, shattering the silence, although Miles let out a rueful chuckle at her ringtone, which eventually subsided.

 _“Time After Time?”_ He queried, his expression now one of amusement, although he was glad that he wasn’t the only one that had bittersweet memories associated with that song.

“I shall only concede that it holds sentimental meaning,” Franziska blushed. “That is most likely Addie ringing me. I ducked out of the party without saying goodbye now she is probably concerned about me.”

“Give her a call later,” he dismissed. “Or _I_ can text her in a bit. You consumed too much alcohol tonight and all I care about is you getting a good night’s slumber. I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep.”

“But you said you were so tired earlier,” she protested. “You need the rest, too. You should go.”

“And I’ll get plenty of it as soon as _you_ doze off.” He gave her mock-scowl, and she giggled slightly, making him realize how much he loved the sound of her laughter. “But in the meantime, Ms. Prosecutor, no matter what you say or do, you are _not_ getting rid of me, because I’m _not going anywhere_.”

“Are you flexing your authority as my _actual_ Older Brother, Little Brother?” She derided.

“No, my _actual_ muscle,” he growled, playfully baring his teeth, making her twitter once more. “Because I’m _bigger_ than you!”  
  
“OK, you win _this_ time, but I am _only_ going to listen to because I admit to being still _slightly_ _tipsy_ ,” she yawned drowsily, her eyes beginning to drift closed, even though she still managed to jut her chin ever so slightly to show her defiance. “Otherwise you _know_ I would never let you tell me what to do, Miles Edgeworth!”

He brushed his fingers through her hair, silver silk slipping through his hands. His thumb brushed lightly across her cheekbone, a barely discernible touch.

"You were always so stubborn," he said huskily, dipping his head down towards her. His lips briefly pressed against her forehead, and Franziska shivered slightly _,_ her hand unconsciously reaching up and grasping his hand tightly.

Miles drew away briefly, kissing her again softly, this time on the cheek. "You know that I know that you know that I know, that you need to rest, Franziska," he murmured. "Rest now, please. I beg of you, rest."

“I have changed my mind. Stay with me. _Please_ …” She pouted slightly, eyes still closed and too heavy to open. “Do not leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he promised. “You have my word.”

The last thing the German woman was aware of was the sweet and brief touch of his lips at her hairline, and his hand taking hers, until, a soft smile playing on her lips, she sank into an exhausted slumber in Miles Edgeworth’s strong arms.

_The power of love bestows responsibilities, but not rights. I have no right to your heart but I am blessed to love you with my own. I have no right to your time but I am honored to share moments. It is for me to do what is best for you, and not seek fulfillment of my own desires at an expense to your wellbeing. Just know that when you tell me of your hurt, I hurt too. How can I not? Anyone who abuses you is no friend of mine, and I owe them nothing and only yearn to wreak vengeance upon their soul. It is for me to seek what would make you happy, what would be best for **your** soul. If equal love cannot be, let the more loving one be **me**._

With this as his final thought in mind, Miles felt his own eyes drifting shut soon afterward, cradling her head against his chest.

It was the best night’s sleep either one of them had ever had.

* * *

 ** _Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 14, 2026

Miles closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips as he remembered that first night he’d slept with Franziska Von Karma in his arms. It was rather amusing that he been able to slumber so peacefully at the time, considering the potential threat of _unplanned fatherhood_ hanging over him! Suffice to say, embracing the love of his life had been the best sleep aid in the entire world, regardless of the strife that had been going on in his life at the time.

 _Thank God it ended up merely being a false alarm,_ he mused now. _It was not even two months after that, while I was letting Franziska be adjusted to the shell shock of what happened to her father, that the whole Bruce Goodman murder trial came about with Lana, and then I was gone from Franziska’s life for a year after, unwittingly breaking my promise to her. I’m lucky she forgave me for that. I’m lucky that Lana and I are still friends after all that we’ve been through. I never did apologize to her for how hard I was on her after we parted, or even thank her for finally making what was the right decision, in the end. How could I fault Lana for ultimately choosing the man that **she truly** **loved,** when for half the duration that **I** was with her, I was unknowingly in love with another woman, and therefore never gave Lana **my** entire heart either?_

For ten years, Franziska Von Karma had had his heart, even though both of them hadn’t known it at the time. She had not only taught him how to _truly love_ , and to give another human being his heart, but she had made him want to be a person _worthy_ of hers.

_We shared our vulnerabilities more readily than trading cards, interlocking our hearts as much as our fingers. You took root in me in a way I have never let another soul do, feeling that you were my shelter and I yours. The cruel hand of fate has seen fit to remove you from my side to a point where I don’t know how far ahead you are, so how can I hope to follow? My love and my heart are broken beyond mortal repair. What is to fill the void you left behind? How cold the wind blows within it. I can only visit our places, listen to our songs, and lie on your side of the bed holding your pillow. I have to believe that you are out there, meine Dame, and that someday, love will lead me back to you, and into your arms, and that we will fall in love all over again…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journey - Send Her My Love  
> Cyndi Lauper - Time After Time  
> Dusty Springfield - I Only Want To Be With You


	118. Heart Of Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One very important thing I need to clarify guys, and sorry for any confusion, but Lana was not actually pregnant. This was right before Rise From The Ashes, when things came to an ugly head and I guess being blackmailed by Damon Gant was finally getting to her stress levels, resulting in her monthly visitor being greatly delayed, but it indeed was a false alarm, so no child was lost in this case!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Build a fire a thousand miles away  
> To light my long way home  
> I ride a comet  
> My trail is long to stay  
> Silence is a heavy stone  
> I fight the world and take all they can give  
> There are times my heart hangs low  
> Born to walk against the wind  
> Born to hear my name  
> No matter where I stand I'm alone
> 
> Stand and fight  
> Live by your heart  
> Always one more try  
> I'm not afraid to die  
> Stand and fight  
> Say what you feel  
> Born with a heart of steel
> 
> Burn the bridge behind you  
> Leave no retreat  
> There's only one way home  
> Those who laugh and crowd the path  
> And cut each other's throats  
> Will fall like melting snow  
> They'll watch us rise with fire in our eyes  
> They'll bow their heads  
> Their hearts will hang low  
> Then we'll laugh and they will kneel  
> And know this heart of steel was  
> Too hard to break  
> Too hard to hold

**_Miles Edgeworth_** _  
_February 25, 2017

**_ "Swan Song" _ **

_They say that God will never give you more than you can handle. He slammed his fist on his desk, putting his head in his hands. Given the corybantic vicissitudes that have overcome my life recently, He thinks I am some sort of… badass!_

Alternatively, perhaps The Man Upstairs, just like everybody else, had been so completely fooled by his outwardly stoic, unflappable nature that he believed that Miles Edgeworth would be able to endure being put through _hell and back again_ , in a manner that would have brought even the mightiest of men to their knees! That he would be driven to the pits of hell and been able to stare into _the bottomless abyss of Satan's coal-black eyes_ , all within the mere duration of _two months_ , and come out of it completely unscathed, as though he were some sort of indestructible Demigod.

_But I am nor have ever strived to be anything of the sort! I am no demagogue nor frondeur of and have never aspired to be! I am merely human. A **mortal** man, that is rapidly crumbling and is nowhere near as infallible as He deemed me to be! I have lost my way. I have lost my faith. And **I can no longer endure**. I am lost, and in utmost despair, and everything and everyone I have ever revered, trusted, or had believed in has betrayed me. Now I am alone. More alone than I have ever felt since I lost my father._

The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by his long intakes of air.

_Scott Fitzgerald put it best: "There's a loneliness that only exists in one's mind. The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly."_

Miles' aloof, distant disposition was a mixed blessing. In as much as he knew he was considered by many a tough nut to crack, so was he also considered being a formidable courtroom adversary. His was a character that been purposefully been harnessed by Manfred from the moment he had insisted his adopted son take up fencing.

He had been 13 when the German man had first introduced him to Wolfram, a towering and imposingly brawny man with countless "battle wounds," on his face, hands, and body. Henceforth, he had currently informed his ward that fencing was to become a part of his daily education for the rest of his years in Germany. Miles had always been more of an intellectual than an athlete, save for dancing and horseback riding, and had been filled with trepidation in the beginning, but Manfred had left no room for negotiation.

"Pay heed to this as much as you do your law education, Edgeworth. Only then will you be adequately equipped, and trained for the day you stand up in court and face your oppositions. You will practice this fine sport, which is a centuries-old tradition in the Von Karma family, and you will uphold it and carry out that duty to the best of your capability by practicing daily and having the same regard for the Wolfram's instructions and teachings as you do my own. I trust you not to disappoint me."

Therefore, fencing became as much a part of his life as much as his legal studies. For an entire grueling hour, five days a week, Miles was the apt pupil of the ruthless German instructor, with a target nailed to the wall and the iron-cornered footlockers full of odd-looking armor. Occasionally, Manfred would silently observe his protégé's progress and occasionally spar with Wolfram as well. Miles would watch in fascinated wonderment as the two fully masked men, only several feet apart, as his mentor easily held his own and always triumphed with the parrying and thrusting of his blade against his much younger and nimble opponent. It was a new dimension to the older man, which was no less awe-inspiring than watching him in action in the courtroom.

After three years, and miraculously, _zero cuts or scars,_ Miles grasped how the activity applied to his career. He learned how to face an opponent without flinching; how to exercise self-control and to employ misdirection even in the face of bodily fear; and always, _always_ to attack. To his surprise, he found that after a few weeks, he enjoyed it, even had a flair for it, once he learned that most duels were won and lost in the mind before the swords were even raised.

At the time, he had been grateful to be exposed to this additional source of strength. Now he realized that had just been yet _another_ way that Manfred had employed in moulding him into becoming a carbon copy of _himself_ , and even less and less like Gregory Edgeworth. He felt positively sick to his stomach at the realization.

During that entire courtroom fiasco, two months ago, he was still contending with the revelation that his beloved father had lost his life at the _wretched hands_ of his revered mentor.

Now, on top of that, he had seen the actual _black soul_ , Chief Damon Gant's true colors had come to light. The two men Edgeworth had looked up to had committed multiple heinous crimes: tampering with evidence, assault, forging evidence, and worst of all; _murder_.

He sighed in despair, running his fingers through his hair. What was he supposed to think now? On the witness stand, Gant had said they were _one and the same_.

" _You despise criminals. I can feel it. You and me... we're the same. If you want to take them on alone... you'll figure out what's needed!"_

Miles had modeled himself to be like both Manfred and Gant for so long and was horrified at the possibility of any validity in the harrowing claim. Would _he_ , someday, have the remaining shreds of his existing humanity be so vastly diminished that he too would become ruthless enough to take another human life, motivated by nothing more than his personally selfish desires? Up until now, Miles had thought that he was pursuing the path, and serving justice by emulating the two men, only now to discover it was expertly woven lies, unraveled by his old friend and court rival, Phoenix Wright.

Gant was incarcerated now, and he would be put on death row, never to be a free man again. However, the terrifying possibility of just how much of both evil men's influence existed in him was still too chilling for it to be much more than a mild grim pleasure to the knowledge that he and Phoenix have achieved such a feat together.

The former police chief's words might have been the catalyst, but the yen to flee Los Angeles had been building slowly but inexorably since his own trial at Christmas. The initial relief when he realized that he hadn't killed his father had soon passed, and then Miles had been hit by the full impact of the deception and betrayal that Manfred Von Karma had perpetrated.

Miles could still taste the bile rising in the back of his he clenched his fists reflexively as he relived that moment it had been revealed that his caretaker had been the actual cold-blooded _murderer of his father_ ; that he had manipulated Miles' life for nearly two decades, all in the name of petty revenge. The pain of that revelation was as profound now, two months later, as it had been that day in court.

Until then, he had never consciously doubted his purpose, as a prosecutor or as Manfred Von Karma's chosen successor. Within months of Yanni Yogi's acquittal echoing around the courtroom all those years ago, Miles' thirst for vengeance against the man he had believed to be his father's killer, as well as his all-consuming hatred for Yogi's defense attorney, had been harbored and further fueled into an all-consuming obsession at the hands of the controlling and unscrupulous puppet master.

" _Mark my words, Edgeworth,"_ Manfred had countlessly lectured. _"All suspects and witnesses lie, and you must be prepared to think along the lines of lowlifes like them to have a proper rebuttal. There are times when we have to use similar methods in order to trap the guilty, be that half-truths or selective evidence. The ends justify the means. Being the good guy will get you nowhere. Had the prosecutor for Yogi done his job properly, Robert Hammond and Yanni Yogi would never have been able to lie and deceive their way from due justice. You are my successor and you too will have a perfect conviction record. I will not allow you to fail, and you shall not dissatisfy me."_

Miles had been taught so many dishonest tactics and had so much falsity drilled into him since childhood, he wasn't sure what to do anymore. Manfred von Karma taught him to withhold information and evidence and do whatever it took to receive a guilty verdict. Whether the defendant was guilty or innocent, he had been told that everyone was guilty until proven innocent (and they were never proven innocent until he had clashed with Wright) and that the verdict was the only thing that mattered. Losing was not an option in the von Karma household. He had been instructed to eliminate the world's criminals and with the belief "guilty until proven innocent" everyone was a potential criminal, guilty of some form of wrongdoing, that he as a prosecutor was required to cure the earth of.

Manfred's words went against everything Gregory Edgeworth had ever taught his son.

" _Bring the mind into sharp focus and make it alert so that it can immediately intuit **truth** , which is everywhere. The mind must be emancipated from old habits, prejudices, restrictive thought processes, and even ordinary thought itself."_ Gregory had always told his son. _"An attorney never lies. He can only use facts and evidence to prove his case, or he's no better than a criminal himself."_

As time went by, it became harder and harder for Miles to reconciled the two lessons to soothe his conscience, but to little avail. After all, hadn't _he_ lied on the witness stand when he had claimed complete ignorance about his knowledge of what had happened that fateful night in the elevator? His reoccurring nightmares about the DL-6 incident were a further indication that however ruthless it seemed; his mentor was right. It was hard to have belief in humanity where Miles Edgeworth was conclusive evidence that witnesses indeed, _did_ lie.

It was this dark secret, which endlessly tormented him, which he kept hidden within the depth of his very soul, and, further fired him up to his targeted mission as a prosecutor to ensure that suspects were declared guilty and that the lies of defense attorneys were exposed and destroyed by any means necessary. He had gotten so caught up in his brainwashed beliefs that he'd begun to take _vain, conceited arrogance_ , and his perfect courtroom record. He had basked in the reward that was his mentor's hard-earned praise; that satisfied smile and approving hand on his shoulder that showed the world Manfred's recognized pride for his protégé's successful endeavors.

It sickened him to this day at the realization that what he had mistaken for an admiring smile had not been in recognition for his achievements, but had been a smug, barely suppressed _smirk_ at the _naïve guilelessness_ of his enemy's son. The thought that his combined misplaced conceit and barely repressed self-loathing had blinded him for so long was staggering and more painful than an actual gunshot wound.

What cruel hand of fate had decided that Miles Edgeworth, the sole offspring of the great, legendary and gifted Gregory Edgeworth, could have fallen victim and ended up with not _one_ but _two_ role models or such moral turpitude? Moreover, each man was insidiously guilty of two of the _seven deadly sins_ : **_Wrath and Greed_**.

Manfred von Karma, his near lifelong mentor; had been so driven by the need for absolute perfection that he flew into a vengeance-fueled vendetta towards Miles' father for threatening that perfection. He'd killed Gregory Edgeworth in cold blood and took in his only son to shape him into the opposite of everything the legendary defense attorney had stood for in his ultimate, triumph of _Take That!_ to degrade even the very legacy of his fallen enemy.

Then, there was Damon Gant. The virulent despot who'd gone to great lengths to rearrange the scene of Neil Marshall's death to frame Ema Skye, just to turn her older sister into his prosecutor puppet; even murdering Detective Goodman to keep his interference a secret. A man so motivated by his lust for greater power, even betraying and manipulating his most trusting partner, the other half of the Legendary Duo, Lana Skye.

 _Lana_.

Miles expelled a painful sigh. The final blow of betrayal.

_Three strikes. I'm out._

He went to see her immediately at the detention center after she had been sentenced.

* * *

_ Flashback _

**_Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye_**  
 _Detention Centre_  
February 25, 2017

"How could you do it to me, Lana?" The barrister demanded harshly. "I can sympathize that you had very good reasons for everything you did. I understand you did all to protect Ema. What I _don't_ understand is why you chose to try to frame _me_ for a crime I had _no hand in_ by putting Goodman's corpse in the trunk of _my_ car rather than come to me for help."

Lana eyed her ex-swain mournfully. Sitting there on the other side of the glass, he was as majestically stern as ever – a literal sight for sore eyes, even though his slate ones were sharp, judgmental, and worst of all, filled with the weight of her betrayal.

She felt her own eyes welling up.

"After the way things ended between us, you would've still helped me?" The former Chief Prosecutor replied hoarsely, her throat tightening up with barely suppressed tears. " _You_ , being a man of the law, who despises crime… if I'd come to you, what could you have done? Would you have honestly helped me dispose of the slain detective's _still bleeding_ carcass?"

She saw him wince slightly at the gory description and lifted her chin challengingly.

"Just as I suspected – you couldn't even bear the _thought!_ I know you far better than that."

"I guess we'll never know now, will we?" He replied flatly. "What I truly cannot fathom, though, is your quizzical stance of acting like _you're_ the wounded, discarded party here, Lana. Have you forgotten that you'd already made your decision before all of this happened?"

"But _you_ get to have the last laugh, don't you?" She saw his expression of surprise and smiled grimly. "Surely you put it together, based on the testimony and evidence that came to light in the trial that Jake and I are no longer together? It seems the strain of being with someone as _cold and secretive_ as myself, near the end, was more than my cowboy could bear, and ironically, in the end, shortly after _I_ chose to be with _him_ , _he_ chose to walk away from _me_ soon after. Now we're _both_ behind bars, and ultimately, I am as alone as I was when I first came into this world."

She gave a mirthless laugh.

"Perhaps it is no less than I deserve."

"I suppose if I _hadn't_ been _through the mill_ already, in more ways than one, I would say that I'm sorry for your loss. But I _was_ , and ergo, I _didn't_ come here to hear your pity party," he snapped tersely. "I came here to know _why_. I _trusted_ you and foolishly believed that against all odds, as my superior, _if naught else_ , you would _have my back_ , as I would have yours. Above all else, I tried to comfort you in your time of need, and therefore thought I was at least beyond a colleague and _friend_ if nothing else."

It was true. Lana knew a side of Miles Edgeworth that few ever had the pleasure of knowing; she'd seen him perfectly vulnerable and exposed, and it was it had drawn her to him and kept her torn in two all this time. She and the High Prosecutor had once upon a time, been as close as two people could be, without being bound by promises or titles. He had helped her find a part of herself that she was forced to abandon after the events of SL-9, helped her keep a trace of her former happiness and compassion, and thawed some of the ice that she'd been forced to build around her heart and kept her distance from so many for so long.

"…I've told you everything," he went on, a mumble at most. "I've told you in confidence about my father, my past, my fears… I've given you my trust, my secrets…" He crossed his arms over his chest, self-consciously, eyes closed tight. "You're aware I've given you many things I simply cannot take back."

Lana felt her heart lurch as she saw the pained expression barely concealed under the anger. Despite knowing why she'd done all she had, Miles still had every right to hate her. This wasn't even the first time he had been betrayed. She knew this firsthand, the stories gifted to her by the very man himself. They were words she held in her heart much like a trophy, proud to have been entrusted with secrets he claimed to have never told another at the time. She didn't trust herself to speak. What could she possibly say that'd be assuaging to his suffering, which _she_ had been part of causing?

Her silence was killing him, and he felt a sudden burst of helpless rage and anguish.

"Damn, you, woman!" Miles crossed his arms self-consciously across his broad chest and squeezed his eyes shut, as though he couldn't bear to look at her another second. "I've given you my trust, my secrets… I've confided in you about my father and my past and my nightmares… I regret that I have given you so many things that I cannot take back! I did all foolishly thinking I could take you into my confidence because I thought that we actually had something worth mentioning. Something undefined, yet nevertheless, something special."

"We _did,"_ she whispered desperately, rapidly blinking back the tears now trembling from her lashes. "The fact that it was your car was nothing _personal_ , Miles. Not in the way you think. It had nothing to do with _you_ , or our past – you _have_ to believe me."

"How can I?" His face was a mask of cold fury. "All these years I've known you, even never made me privy to this pain and torment that you been carrying within you all this time having been Gant's puppet. I tried to be there for you and console you, and in return all you saw me as was a witless marionette in this scripted little masquerade of yours, dangling from invisible strings connected to your fingers. _You_ , the apparent _puppet-master of prosecutors_."

The words were sharp. Lana felt as though she'd swallowed a fistful of broken glass. Every shard coursed in deep pulses through her veins. She didn't expect to hear the sigh, nor the pained breath that came next, which she was surprised he allowed her to hear at all.

Then he spoke again, so quietly that she almost couldn't hear him.

"Even during the best of our times together, which were admittedly more tumultuous than tame, more often than not, I often wished I knew how to quit you. It was tiring to think about you all the time. It was unnerving to keep getting jealous of everyone else. You made me selfish, insecure. There were days I wished I could get rid of this certain addiction of you that I've never understood. But I suppose I should thank you. Your perfidy has only made it that much easier for me to finally do what I should have done ages ago, and walk away from you. From everything, and not worry about looking back with any regrets."

"Miles, please…"

"I gave you _my all_ , Lana." His face was now expressionless and back to his normally impassive, sangfroid veneer. "It may not have been much _,_ but it was all I _had_ and _all that I knew_."

"I _know_ you did. Please know that you will _always_ have a place in my heart, for _the rest of my life_ , even if you loathe and despise me for the _rest of yours_. I'm so, so sorry Miles." The tears were now falling openly, small crystal beads that trail down her cheeks to her neck, and orange jumper clad chest. "For all that I have done, wittingly or unwittingly, to have caused you pain, there is nobody that will ever hate me more than I do myself. All I ask is that someday, somehow, you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"I don't know if I can." Miles shook his head and eyed her dispassionately. "The way I feel right now _someday_ looks like perhaps the next month… _after_ _never_." He rose from his seat then and turned his face away from her. "I've said all I need to say. Goodbye Lana."

" _Please_ don't go like this," she begged. "I don't know when or if I will ever see you again. Surely, you can't be so _cold_ and _unfeeling_ as to just leave things like _this_ between us?"

There was a tense silence between the former lovers as they stared into one another's eyes.

"I am the product of what _this world_ , and people _like you_ , have made me be, Lana," he answered at last, and then walked away, leaving the weeping former Chief Prosecutor impotently calling after him.

Miles steeled himself against the heart-wrenching sound of the muffled sobs crying out his name and forced himself to keep moving and not look back; to _never_ go back, and only _move_ _on_.

_You aren't ever going back. You're moving forward without a person who meant a lot to you. You're moving forward and it feels like part of you is being ripped away, and there are some days when you will lie in bed wishing you could run back in time and lie in her arms again. You're moving forward and it hurts because the more you walk the further away she seems; the further away the memories dissipate, and it would be great except you don't want to forget, not now, not yet._

_ End Flashback _

* * *

Sitting in his office now, Miles replayed the torture scene at the detention center scene over and over in his mind, feeling as though he were being lashed by a merciless whip across their flesh each time he did so.

_I know for a very long time afterward I'm going to still hear your voice even though not going to see you for many years, if at all. I remember the inane things you used to say when I thought you were this helpless damsel in distress that I felt the chivalrous need the comfort. All those pretty words, what did they all mean in the end anyway?_

Miles forced himself to harden his heart as he mentally bid Lana Skye adieu in his mind, even though he felt his eyes stinging as he did so.

 _It pains me to no end to think that you hurt me on purpose with that refined look of innocence you have. You pulled the wool over my eyes for years, **alluding** but never **fully telling** me your tales of trauma and victimhood so that I would feel a kinship with you. I was the leading man of all of your dramas until I glimpsed the curtains and the stage lights. I spotted the repetition of your themes, of your script. Truly, you should have diversified more. Still, you will haunt me in ways I can never explain, never shake. Does it matter if I **now** recognize that it was not actual love? At the time, we **both** thought that **it was** , after all. I gave you my heart for free, but that shouldn't have made it worthless._ _It was priceless. There's a difference. Every time I see something that reminds me of you, I may wish there was someone to talk to, but you are too far gone, gone for good, and that hurts too. The problem is I know that perhaps for the rest of my life, I will hold onto parts of you like I hold onto water, and you have parts of me which stain the ground as I walked away for the last time. Of course, it hurts; because I genuinely **cared**. I cared so much, and you said **you** cared too. That's the worst: when both of you care and somehow it still doesn't work._

Thenafter, there had been Franziska to contend with, once he had let her know after she had recovered somewhat from the trauma of the party she had attended. Miles had been bracing himself for some sort of hysterical reaction, and even tears, followed eventually by grudging acceptance, as he had with Katharina, once he had divulged the truth about Manfred during his last visit to Germany.

Miles had recognized Franziska's precocious nature and intellect at a very early age, and as the years passed, she began to show early signs of the prodigy that she would become. He'd always admired her indomitable spirit and had not been in the least surprised when she'd exceeded his own academic success to pass her bar exam at 13 years of age. As a woman of the law herself, he had expected some sort of acknowledgment that nobody was above the law, at the very least, and at least realized that her father was no exception.

However, what Miles had neither anticipated nor been prepared for, was the misdirected anger and sudden _blinders_ she would put on about all matters about her father the moment the news had sunk in. It seemed the younger Von Karma sibling was content to view her father, _the monster_ as some sort of _martyr_ now that he was on death row.

 _"Undankbares Schwein!"_ She had screeched at him upon hearing the news. "My Papa was not a perfect man by any means but he was a genius and he still raised you! He gave you the best of everything, and _this_ is how you _repay_ him?! By _betraying_ him, not only _besmirching his name_ publicly but by _sending him to his death_? How _dare_ you!"

Miles heaved a great sigh as he artfully dodged the sofa cushion, the nearest available weapon of choice that was handy for her at the time, and shook his head at her.

"The only one guilty of betrayal, Franziska, is your father _. Not me_. I thought you would be better to hear from me, rather than on some sort of international news station…"

"I don't want to hear another word!" She shrieked. "Papa was a man of many faults, I acknowledge that. Nevertheless, I refuse to stand idly by while you try to shift the blame entirely on to him for –"

"You just acknowledged that Manfred was a man who had faults, and was therefore not as perfect as one would've liked to think." He could hear the frustration creeping into his normally calm cadence. "And yet you are content to still turn a blind eye and try to deny his guilt? The man _murdered my_ – _"_

"Enough, Miles Edgeworth!" She took a step forward in anger, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "There is no need for you to sully my ears repeating his crimes, of which I am fully aware! But _you_! _You_ … helped that _dastardly_ _fool_ , that _nobody,_ _humiliate_ my father in court! _You_ without any recourse whatsoever _betrayed_ the honor of this family and threw away your reputation for – _that man_. That… _Phoenix Wright_." She spat the words out as though they were blasphemy.

He stared at her in disbelief, confused by the abrupt redirection of her ire.

"This is ludicrous, Franziska! Phoenix Wright is _not_ to blame for what happened to your father."

"The only thing that's ridiculous is the fact that I _trusted_ you!" She raged. "I am the biggest fool of all by ever doing so! Papa always said a true Von Karma _trusts no one_."

The irony of the situation was astounding. Miles would've laughed as he wasn't so thunderstruck and agonized at getting into this horrible fight, with the woman he had only recently realized he loved more than anything in the world. Unfortunately, however, he obviously would not be seeing eye-to-eye with her on this matter, and this undoubtedly would destroy any chance of anything transpiring between them, before they could even begin.

"After all is said and done, does your family name really mean that much to you, even now, Franziska Von Karma?"

"You would _dare_ ask me such a thing?" She glared at him. "You had your opportunity to avenge _your_ father, yet you would question _my_ desire to do the same?"

"You're channeling your rage at the wrong person," Miles insisted helplessly. "The only thing Phoenix Wright did was expose the truth, and make me realize that somewhere along the line, I not only lost my way as a prosecutor but _as a man_."

"Get out of my sight, Miles Edgeworth." Her eyes hardened, and with a pang, he saw all traces of the vulnerable girl who had slept in his arms and gazed at him lovingly only two nights before, completely vanish before his eyes. "I thought that I knew you but I was wrong. You have scorned me and my family with your wayward ways, and sacrificed _everything_ for someone you claimed was nothing but distant acquaintance for a lifetime ago. _I_ will restore the reputation of the Von Karma name. _You_ … you're no longer worthy of being my Little Brother."

"Franziska, I didn't come here to fight with you – that wasn't my intention."

"Then why are you _here?"_ She demanded.

"I wanted to see you. That's all." It sounded foolish to his ears now, but it was the truth.

"And why should you imagine that I want to see _you_ , Miles Edgeworth, after you ruined my father and shamed our family name and are talking like a fool? You've thrown away everything that made you who you are. Do you expect me to tell you that _I_ forgive _you_ , that it's all a dream, that everything will be alright, just like I did when we were children?"

Miles looked away from her again and crossed his arms.

"I expect nothing from you, Franziska. I never have. _I'm_ the one who has lost my way, and only _I_ can find it again."

"Do whatever you want – it is of no importance to me. I can think of no occasion that I would need to discuss with anyone. _Begone from me_ and do as you please, for I no longer _give a damn!"_ Her gaze raked him scornfully. "After today, I no longer wish to see you in this house. Show yourself out." She stalked away before he could answer, her heels echoing loudly in the empty corridor.

Miles did not attempt to follow her, although he turned to watch her as she stormed out of the room, taking his heart with her. They had often fought as children, but they had also clung together in this house. Years of seclusion, surrounded by books of law and reminders of the legacy of the Von Karmas - yards of perfection measured in portraits along the walls and framed certificates of law. There was little they had not shared, but now there was a rift between them that he felt he had no hope of ever filling. He knew she was fiery, that in anger, she said words she was likely to regret afterward, but right now, to his battered, scarred heart and mind, he had no reason to believe she hadn't meant every single one.

_She's right. As familiar as the house and its occupants are, this is no longer my home. I don't belong here anymore._

In the aftermath of the encounter with his Franziska, the grief and misery he had been fighting ever since all day had returned, bringing with its emptiness and a renewed sense of loss that he had not felt so keenly since the night after his trial.

_I like Rip van Winkle, as I've been sleeping for nearly the last 20 years, and it's all been a dream, from which I only awoke from that day in court, when I heard that scream again, which plagued my nightmares. Sometimes I wish I could have remained in slumber. Sometimes, even knowing what I do now, I would trade what I have now for what I had then - the security of it, the certainty, however false it was. That was what Manfred offered me, and what I held on to for all those years. It was the only way out of my nightmares, the only way to atone for what I had done._

_Is this what it feels like to have nothing to live for?_

Images of Los Angeles crowded his mind – Gumshoe, Wright, Larry, the Skye sisters, the Prosecutor's Office, the District Court – people and places that he knew well two days ago. Now they felt vague and blurred, like someone else's memories that he'd merely read in a book. Now his only reality was the overwhelming desire to run, hide, and lose himself somehow, anywhere.

No matter which path he took it always came back to the hangman's noose at the center of the maze. There was only one way out.

 _No_. He _refused_ to take the coward's route and kill himself, tempting though it might have been, and despite knowing that others had taken their own lives for lesser reasons.

He _couldn't_ , _wouldn't_ do that to the woman he loved, whose family was all gone and whose sister was off in another country. No matter how much Franziska hated him right now – he had not even bothered trying to contact her since his last visit, knowing she would either ignore his messages or hang up on him – he would never leave her all alone like that.

He'd _promised_ the angelic Minna Von Karma he wouldn't.

A distant memory from back when he was 15 of the saintly woman – the only true maternal figure he'd ever known – flashed through his mind.

It'd been just months before her tragic death.

* * *

_ Flashback _

**_Miles Edgeworth and Minna Von Karma_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
2008

" _My Franziska really looks up to you, Miles," she'd said to him in that melodious voice he had so loved. "Katharina will be off and married soon, and since my husband travels so much, so you are all she truly has in this world. You know this, do you not?"_

" _Yes, Madam Minna," he mumbled, acknowledging the veracity of the words, even though they confused him. He cared about Franziska very much; she was generally a good kid, but couldn't understand why the family matriarch was speaking in such a manner, as though already taking herself entirely out of the equation. Verily, the youngest Von Karma would always have him as her Little Brother. But what about her mother?_

_As though noting the questioning look in his eyes, Minna gave a rueful laugh and lifted a frail hand to brush back an errant strand of golden hair from her tired eyes._

_"I love both my daughters with every fiber of my heart, but Katharina is grown now, so my little girl is my world, for the rest of my days on this earth," she told him, flashing a beatific, reassuring smile. "Please do not look so worried, dear child. It is just that we can never predict the future, can we, Miles? Come what may, could you be my good little boy, and just promise me that Franziska will never be alone? That you will always look after her, no matter what?"_

" _I – I promise, Madam Minna," Miles nodded solemnly, although a flicker of anxiety went through him as he noted the look of undeniable relief, as well as newfound peace, in those expressive gray orbs. This had been no standard plea of parental reassurance, of that he was certain. Somehow, he instinctively knew there was much more to the belied her words than his foster mother was letting on. "You have my word."_

" _You have always been such a **Süßer Junge** ," she murmured, leaning back on her pillow and shutting her eyes as she gently placed her hand against his cheek. " **Danke** , Miles. I hope someday, my little girl finds a good man, just like you. I also want you to know that no matter what, you, too will be carried in my heart. Always and always."_

_ End Flashback _

* * *

Last but not least, Miles had to contend with the re-emergence of Mr. Phoenix Wright, his childhood chum with whom he had lost all contact, back in his life, out of the blue! The man who had decided to become a lawyer because he knew doing so would reunite them in court one day. The _mensch_ of a defense attorney, with his earnest, puppy dog eyes, dredging up memories Miles had been content to leave buried. He'd spoken of unanswered letters that he had written to Miles over the years, letters that Miles had never received. That was yet another hidden truth of which he had been unaware, and was undoubtedly Manfred's doing.

_Curse, you, Wright! You forced me to break down these walls, which, after all these years, have been **vital** for both my **self-preservation** and my very **sanity**! I **never** doubted myself **until you**! What am I supposed to do with myself now, now that you've opened the floodgates and made me **think** and **feel** and **re-evaluate everything** in my life? I can't just continue going on as if **nothing** ever happened!_

The prosecutor rubbed his now throbbing temples.

What was it about Phoenix Wright that made him such a phenomenal Ace Attorney, one who had bested even the most veteran prosecutors? At this point, he fully acknowledged it was more than mere beginner's luck.

 _The **truth** , Miles._ _A voice in his head whispered. It sounded like his father's voice. Aside from Phoenix Wright's unshakable belief in his clients until the bitter end, ultimately all he cares about is seeking the truth._

He continued to brood.

 _Now, because of you, Wright, I know about all of the corruption and conspiracies and the fact that I have not necessarily only prosecuted the guilty in the past. I think about the **blood on my hands** when I take into account many innocent people I may have sent to their deaths or prison, all because of my **overzealous nature** to try to rid this world of criminals in the Von Karma way. Simply resigning will not wipe the slate of my past sins nor make my guilty conscience clean. Who the hell **am** I anymore? Now that I have the truth, is it too late? _Who will absolve me now? ** _What_** _am I supposed to believe in, or even rely on anymore?!_

The barrister lifted his head, struck with a flash of realization

 _You can always rely on the **truth** , Miles. _The voice said again. _Just like your father always told you to. Leave the "arrogant, stuck up jerk" you once prided on being far behind you, and find out what it **really** means to be a prosecutor, and what the term "justice is blind" truly is all about. Improve yourself and seek the truth, and transcend all previously wrong ideals about aiming for a guilty verdict over the actual truth of matters. The Demon Prosecutor is dead. This is your chance to become a better man, one that Gregory Edgeworth would've been proud to call his son. A man who is not only worthy of loving Franziska Von Karma but someday be worthy of her love in return._

While he refused to take the coward's way out and actually end his life, by the same token, Miles knew he wouldn't have the courage to risk a confrontation that would vanquish his humility by telling everyone about his departure. And the only way he could leave everything behind so he could focus on his newfound goals that his epiphany had brought about would be to discourage anyone from looking for them.

Before he lost his nerve, he shut up from his desk and began randomly stuffing items into his briefcase, before hastily penning his final swan song note, right on top of his

_"Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death."_

It wasn't an outright lie. The Demon Prosecutor ceased to exist as far as he was concerned. He lifted his head and felt a slight smile playing upon his lips for the first time in forever as he exited the building, feeling a gigantic weight finally being lifted from his shoulders as he commenced the path of his self-redemption.

* * *

**_ "On My Own" _ **

**_Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Prosecutor's Office, Germany_  
June 20, 2017

Katharina Rudolf wondered if she would ever see her younger sister smile again. It had been nearly four months since the shocking news of their adopted brother's suicide. She’d also had known how Franziska had secretly felt about Miles and had anticipated her to grieve just as much, if not more than _she_ was at the loss. But what worried her more, than the perpetual mourning state that her younger sibling was still in, was Franziska's unwavering air of _regret, guilt, and self-loathing_ that seemed nowhere near abating.

"I know you loved him, little one," the elder sister had said gently. "I did, as well. However, continuously lashing yourself like this in such a manner and blaming yourself is not going to bring Miles back to us."

"You know not of what you speak, _Schwester_!" Franziska had wailed piteously. "The last time I saw him, it was just after Christmas and I said some _terrible_ things to him, which I cannot take back! It is far too late for me to make amends to him now, do you not understand?"

"Well, surely Miles knew not to take your words to heart. He was no stranger to your tempestuous ways." Overly familiar with her sister's fiery temper, Katharina's expression grew wary. " _What_ did you say to him, exactly?"

"I told him to leave the house and never return," Franziska whispered, her tears soaking her sister's blouse as Katharina wrapped her arms around her. "I told him I did not care what happened to him because I was so _angry_ about Papa!"

The good doctor heaved a heavy sigh.

"Miles knew you very well, little one. I am certain sure he knew you did not mean those things you said in a fit of anger.”

"I never told him I _loved_ him!" Franziska wept. "Now he will _never_ know! He _died_ thinking that I despised him!"

The psychologist sighed soundlessly and proceeded to make gentle soothing sounds as she held the distraught, hysterical prosecutor in her arms for the rest of the night.

Despite Katharina's kind reassurances and pacifying words, Franziska refused to be consoled. As the days went by, regret washed over her like the long slow waves on a shallow beach. Each wave was icy cold and sent shivers down her spine. How she longed to go back and take a different path, but now that was impossible. There was no way back. There was no way to make it right. The remorse would eat at her every day of her life. She envied the pebbles, hard and lifeless, unable to feel the torments of life.

_I hate myself for the way I left things between us the last time I saw him. I still think he was a foolish fool to take Phoenix Wright's side in what happened to Papa, but ultimately he was not the one to blame, and I shall take my revenge on him in court tomorrow. It is I who is guilty of the proverbial killing the messenger and lashed out at the only man I've ever loved, or ever will love like a deranged lunatic!_

The guilt sat not on her chest, but inside her brain. What she had done she could not undo. She could make amends in subtle ways, but the confession was out of the question, even to her priest. Only in her silent prayers, could she speak her heart to God and beg for His mercy. She didn't feel like she deserved the love of Jesus Christ but she clung to it and hung the shreds of her sanity on it. She prayed that one day she would feel removed from her sin of Wrath, washed clean of it, but the guilt was a stain on her, an ugly scar. She had to believe in redemption and rebirth, she had to leave her deeds in the past and move on.

* * *

**_And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to_ **   
**_Without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to_ **   
**_And now the night is near_ **   
**_Now I can make believe he's here_ **

* * *

Things had shifted in her life, and somehow her office often made her feel like it was going to suffocate her. Her one anchor of consistency in life, Miles Edgeworth, had been taken from her, by his own hand, it seemed, and it had shaken her world right down to its core. True, she had blamed him for always leaving her behind, even when they still had been kids, but he had lost all he had back then, and he had been much older. In hindsight, it'd probably been completely normal for him to have always two steps ahead, and act in a manner that he had. Regardless, despite all these factors, the two of them had still managed to always be there for each other when life had been especially hard.

* * *

**_Sometimes I walk alone at night_ **   
**_When everybody else is sleeping_ **   
**_I think of him and then I'm happy_ **   
**_With the company, I'm keeping_ **   
**_The city goes to bed_ **   
**_And I can live inside my head_ **

* * *

A small part of her held Mile Edgeworth responsible for her own misery, and that part of her was _furious_. For such a deep emotion to appear was a miracle, as she had felt nothing but grief for the past few weeks, and it gave her purpose. She wasn't going to just sit down and give up. Her life would continue without the man she loved because she, Franziska Von Karma, would make it. Now that she was all alone, with nothing but her father's teachings to hold onto, she _would_ remain strong somehow, and _she would prevail._

* * *

**_In the rain, the pavement shines like silver_ **   
**_All the lights are misty in the river_ **   
**_In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight_ **   
**_And all I see is him and me forever and forever_ **

* * *

She threw herself headfirst into her work, the one part of her life that she had full control over, and completely immersed herself. In her office and the courtroom, she could lose herself in the whirlwind world of law and allowed herself to forget about anything that might plague her thoughts, and concentrate on doing what she did best. She pressured herself further to excel, not only because it was all she knew, but also because there was a part of her that believed it was the only thing she was good at. She was well aware that unlike Miles and her father, she was no genius, and this knowledge made her believe even more that she would fail should she ever stop doing what she had been taught to do so thoroughly.

" _Excel at everything you do. Von Karma's are perfect by default."_ The mantra still resonated in her head, and combined with the Von Karma motto: " _To be perfect in every way."_ Franziska had extremely high expectations for herself, and she expected no less from those surrounding her. She had always been praised for her hard work, which had validated everything she had learned, and encouraged her to go down the path she had chosen.

 **_Chosen_ ** **?** _Oh please, Franziska! Why must you keep lying to yourself, when there is nobody else around? You never **chose** this path; it was **chosen for you**! All these expectations you have heaped upon yourself have been ingrained into you since childhood, and you have readily accepted them, without question, because it's **all you've ever known**! You are Franziska Von Karma. You are ruthless, you are fearless, and you **make** people **respect** you out of their **fear of you!**_

* * *

**_And I know it's only in my mind_ **   
**_That I'm talking to myself and not to him_ **   
**_And although I know that he is blind_ **   
**_Still, I say, there's a way for us_ **

* * *

Nobody knew who she really was behind the domineering whip and mask of faultlessness behind the wall of perfection and success she had built around her over the years. Nobody knew the scared, sensitive young woman that lay beneath the surface, with a hidden vulnerability that she knew her opponents would prey upon should they ever be privy to it. The only person that had ever seen her in such a state, and been the shoulder she'd so needed to cry on had been Miles. And now he was gone from this word, and he'd taken her heart with him.

* * *

**_I love him_ **   
**_But when the night is over_ **   
**_He is gone_ **   
**_The river's just a river_ **   
**_Without him_ **   
**_The world around me changes_ **   
**_The trees are bare and everywhere_ **   
**_The streets are full of strangers_ **

* * *

_They say wounds heal over time. They're wrong. This pain will never cease. It has left a gaping, bloody hole in my heart, which if I'm lucky, I will learn to adapt to as time passes, and perhaps someday be able to push it to the back of my mind. But it will still be there when I revisited, and there shall remain, searing red and painful until the day I die._

When she had first heard the news report, she had been at work, sitting at her desk, and a part of her just assumed that it was one huge conspiracy theory, while the other half of her was screaming that the news was true and her Little Brother had killed himself, which made no sense whatsoever! As the minutes crept by, however, the devastation had kicked in before the shock, and she had done exactly what she was doing at this exact moment – crossed her arms on the desk dropped her head onto it, and wept the same way she had when her Mama had died. She had sobbed like a child who has just been robbed of what mattered most in its life, and she had not even taken the time to check whether the door was locked – it had not mattered – as she was filled with helpless despair and was beyond heartbroken.

* * *

**_I love him_ **   
**_But every day I'm learning_ **   
**_All my life_ **   
**_I've only been pretending_ **   
**_Without me_ **   
**_His world would go on turning_ **   
**_A world that's full of happiness_ **   
**_That I have never known_ **

* * *

Love was cruel and she felt like the most foolish of fools for having fallen into it, for it excruciatingly mauled and maimed at your innards until there was nothing left within. To have the man she'd loved snatched away from her, and by his own hand, was pure torture. It was nearly unfathomable Miles' death could affect her as much as it did, and that one man's destruction could cause her own.

* * *

**_I love him_ **   
**_I love him_ **   
**_I love him_ **   
**_But only on my own_ **

* * *

She'd called in sick for the next two days, something that was unheard of for her, and just allowed herself to sleep around the clock. She even let Helga fawn and fuss over her, allowing the kindly maid to fix her as many calorie-laden meals as she could ever digest because she knew she needed to have a clear head and as much strength and health as possible to get through this. She would _not_ allow herself to spiral down that treacherous path! The tender pampering of the household staff had been _just_ what she needed to return to work with a vengeance!

Franziska had thrown herself into her job headfirst, like a woman possessed, taking on heavier and more intense caseloads, until she was working 12 to 14-hour days around the clock, and found the grueling task was _just_ what she needed. A lot to do meant little time to think. When she had a spare moment, she found herself thinking of her lost love. Once or twice, she saw a flash of magenta coming around the corner and fooled herself into believing it would be him, returning, only to be crushed when it turned out to be somebody else. Each time she realized that it wasn't just further sunk her into a deeper and deeper level of depression. So, to compensate, she would work herself even harder to stop the pain from creeping up on her again. Work was more cathartic than she could have ever dreamed, and she realized that loved her job nearly as much as she'd loved Miles.

Something sparked within her. It wasn't quite positivity or even joyful sanguinity, nor a new understanding or clearer perception of _why_ , or anything. It was a little flame of anger, and it gave her purpose. She wasn't going to just sit down and give up. Her life would continue without the man she loved because _she_ would damn well _make_ it!

The epiphany startled her. Miles was gone. It was tragic but true. But _she_ was still alive. She was alive, she was _Franziska Von Karma,_ and she needed to rejoin _the land of the living!_

After that, life improved slightly. Her hard work at the prosecutor's office was praised and recognized, and four months after Miles' demise, a case had, at last, come up in Los Angeles, which, when presented the opportunity, she had _leaped_ at the chance to take!

The very next day, she would finally have her chance to prosecute _her first-ever case_ in the United States, _against Phoenix Wright,_ the foolish fool would dare sully the Von Karma name! Her thirst for revenge would finally be quenched, both on Miles for leaving her like this by defeating the man who had ruined his perfect record, as well against the man who had sent her father to death row!

_Every dog has its day._

She had wanted to be recognized as being at the top of her profession, and she got it. She had wanted vengeance, and now it would be hers. Whenever Franziska Von Karma wanted something – she went and _got it_!

Alas, there was only _one_ thing she'd ever wanted that could _never be_.

It was also the reason why, the night before her California courtroom debut, the German woman had dissolved into another bout of sobbing at her desk at the Los Angeles Prosecutor's Office.

Because most of all, more than anything in the world – Franziska wanted Miles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manowar – Heart Of Steel  
> Les Miserables - On My Own


	119. Twisted Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ever since I played the Maya kidnapping case, and also, as you guys know, covered it in great depth in the earlier chapters, it is bothered me to no great and why it appeared that Phoenix was flabbergasted upon Miles' zombie resurrection from the dead, whereas Franziska did not appear even remotely surprised and just completely annoyed! Therefore, I just had to utilize this chapter as a chance to put my take as to why that was so!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you know my name  
> If I saw you in heaven?  
> Would it be the same  
> If I saw you in heaven?
> 
> I must be strong  
> And carry on,  
> 'Cause I know I don't belong  
> Here in heaven.
> 
> Would you hold my hand  
> If I saw you in heaven?  
> Would you help me stand  
> If I saw you in heaven?
> 
> I'll find my way  
> Through night and day,  
> 'Cause I know I just can't stay  
> Here in heaven.
> 
> Time can bring you down,  
> Time can bend your knees.  
> Time can break your heart,  
> Have you begging please, begging please.
> 
> Beyond the door,  
> There's peace I'm sure,  
> And I know there'll be no more  
> Tears in heaven.
> 
> Would you know my name  
> If I saw you in heaven?  
> Would it be the same  
> If I saw you in heaven?
> 
> I must be strong  
> And carry on,  
> 'Cause I know I don't belong  
> Here in heaven

**_Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma_**  
 _Gatewater Hotel, Presidential Suite_  
March 20, 2018

_Franziska Von Karma what the hell you still doing here in America anyway? Accept a loss gracefully and just go home already!_ She silently screamed. _They have no idea how to make a decent German dish in this godforsaken country! Do you call **this** Kartoffelpuffer?!_

Grumpily, the German prosecutor pushed away her only half consumed room service dinner tray, bearing the most _scheisse_ excuse for a German dish she'd ever had, and flicked off the television set.

She very well knew the answer to the repeated question her wretched mind was taunting her with, albeit, not a _good_ one. After all, she hadn't had a case in three months against that accursed fool, Phoenix Wright, to whom she had humiliatingly lost to _twice_ now, thus obliterating her previous perfect record. The reason she was sticking around was that Franziska was _positive_ that the _third_ time would be the charm, and that sooner or later if she was patient enough, she would have her final opportunity to bring that foolish fool of a man to his knees!

She was completely indifferent about Los Angeles. It was pretty and hot, if not a trifle smoggy, but being there, if anything, only depressed her even more, as she couldn't escape the fact that she was working out of the same building, and staying in the same city, where Miles had both worked and resided.

 _Miles_. She closed her eyes. She could still see his handsome face as clearly, as though it were yesterday, and felt the familiar tightness once again forming in her chest. Would the pain _ever_ stop?!

_So many times this past year, before I fully accepted that you were truly gone, while I would stop thinking that I saw your face in every crowd, I would still try to sense your presence and imagine that some sort of faint signal came through to me, in the matter of crackling on an old radio. Any way to feel or get a sense of you was good enough for me, some confirmation that you were still out there somewhere. Sometimes, I'd reach my fingertips outward and feel them tingle, as though I could feel your touch somehow…_

Her reverie was interrupted at that moment by a loud knocking at her hotel room door.

_OK, this is very unusual! If I were a superhero, I would say that my **Spidey-sense** was tingling at **the exact moment before** that happened…_

Surprised, as she was not expecting anybody, especially at this late hour, and she hadn't ordered any search of room service, Franziska reflexively grabbed her whip from the coffee table. Then she threw on and belted her satiny robe over her slip silk nightie, and was about to answer the door, just as she heard another series of somewhat _impatient_ rapping, louder and more insistent than the first.

 _It's 11 o'clock on a weeknight!_ Franziska fumed, her fingers tightening around her weapon.

_The bellboy has some serious nerve! I wonder what the devil he wants?! It had best be some sort of **free service** \- ideally some sort of alcoholic beverage! The **one** good thing about California is it appears they can make a **decent** wine! Not as good as Germany, of course…_

" _Hold your horses!_ " She grumbled, flinging the door open with a scowl. "Just _what_ urgent matter has you banging on my door at this _ungodly_ – "

The words died on her lips, and her heart leaped high in her throat as she stared into a pair of beloved, _familiar_ , slate-grey eyes. She would know those orbs anywhere. They had been plaguing her dreams for the past year.

Standing there, on the other side of the door, was Miles Edgeworth, as handsome as he had been the very the last time she'd seen him…and looking _very much alive_!

" _Mein Gott!"_ As Franziska's lips parted in astonishment, her free hand, which had been clutching her lasso, fluttered upward to clutch her chest, consequently dropping the weapon to the plush carpeted floor by her feet. She needed to brace her full weight on the doorknob with her other hand so that she wouldn't faint from shock. " _M – Miles?_ Is that _really_ you?"

" _Hallo_ , Franziska." He smiled tiredly and his voice was weary, as though he had come from a very long journey. "Won't you please invite me in?"

Noticing she was still frozen in place, as though she'd been _poleaxed_ , he gave a slight bow, then carefully brushed past his foster sibling into the suite and gently reached behind her to shut the door.

The two prosecutors stared at each other for what seemed like ages. At last, Miles was the one to break the silence.

"It's been a long time, Big Sister," he ventured cautiously, as though chartering into unknown waters. "You look … quite well."

She just continued to gape at him with rounded eyes. Uncertain of what to do next, he hesitantly leaned forward to give some sort of hug or European-style cheek exchange as a greeting. And that was when she suddenly sprang into action.

Her cheeks slowly turning pink with indignation and fury, Franziska recovered from her shock long enough to raise her whip-free hand and attempt to crash it, full force, against the side of Miles Edgeworth's _too handsome for his own damn good_ , _back from the dead_ , kisser!

He caught her wrist in midair, holding it in a vice grip to prevent her from doing further damage.

"Is that any way to greet your Little Brother?" He asked quietly, with what Franziska considered maddening calm. She then went to pummel his broad chest with her free hand, which was clenched into a tiny fist, but he caught that one as well, so she was reduced to just glaring up at him, wild-eyed, and teeth bared in a ferocious snarl.

 _"How dare you!"_ She shrieked, thrashing so frantically to free herself from his strong hands that Miles reluctantly released her, yet ensured that he back stepped far out of the immediate danger zone, nevertheless.

Her chest was heaving as she eyed him murderously.

"How _dare_ you come back after all this time and expect me to be OK? _I look well?! That_ is all you have to say to me, you … audacious _Schwein_?! Did you just expect me to run into your arms and tell you how happy I am that you have miraculously returned from the grave?!"

Miles raised his hands, palms up, in the universal gesture of surrender, and regarded her helplessly.

"Would you be further enraged if I told you that _was_ the reaction I was somewhat hoping for, however unrealistic it may have been?"

Somehow, they had staggered into the living room, where Franziska picked up a nearby sofa cushion and hurled it at him, as was tradition.

As was also tradition, Miles ducked just in time to dodge the flying weapon, which was his customary reflexive action to the tempestuous woman's habitual attempted _assault by plushy item!_ Hell, he might as well put his defensive fencing moves to _some_ good use!

"Oh you _did,_ did you? Well, I am so sorry to disappoint you!" She hollered, her stormy eyes filled with tears of relief and rage. "Damn you, Miles Edgeworth! You _vanished!_ You left _a suicide note_! Do you have _any idea_ what _hell_ you put me through, while you have been out gallivanting and enjoying yourself, _as exemplified by your tan_ , I have been lamenting and mourning the loss of you for _the past year_! I have cried myself to sleep _every single night_ since you've been gone! I thought you had _killed yourself!_ But you are obviously not dead, so _where the hell have you been?_ And do not even _think_ of giving me that whole, ' ** _I was thinking'_** sort of _Scheisse_ because _I will kill you_ – I swear to _Gott!"_

The German woman had to stop to catch her breath and stood there, a fresh couch cushion in her hand, poised and ready to launch, as she awaited his answer. She was panting as though she had run a marathon and the stinging tears in her eyes were now streaming down her cheeks. The fire that had been burning inside her had run out of fuel. Shaking, she lifted her head, sparks flying out of her eyes as she beheld the man who had caused her so much suffering.

"I deserved all of that," he said quietly. "I cannot even imagine the amount of pain I put you through, and have no right to beg your forgiveness, even though there is nothing on earth that I want more. But you are also entitled to an explanation, although I fear you will make very good on your threat and attack me once more when you hear what I was up to, in actuality."

Franziska folded her arms across her chest as her argent orbs shot daggers at him.

"I will accept that scathing look of yours in the meantime," he said smoothly, with just a trace of mirth. "Assuming, of course, that's what it takes to ensure you do not attempt to make my _alleged death_ become an _actual_ one!"

"Just shut up and tell me where the hell you have been!"

"I was traveling about Europe." The corner of his mouth twitched. _"Thinking."_

She simply glowered at him in response. He put his palms up again.

"You asked, I answered!"

"You are most fortunate I do not have my whip handy!" She gritted her teeth. "Thinking, you say? _For a year?!_ About _what_ , pray tell?"

"Everything. My father's death, what it meant to be a prosecutor, and..." he hesitated for a moment. "How you and I have _more baggage_ _than an airport_ because of Manfred!"

Noting that she didn't even deny the charge, as cheeky as it had sounded, Miles hastily carried on.

"Franziska, all I yearned for was the chance to have a fresh start. After my father died, my subsequent living arrangements, although in a new, foreign country and culture, still did not allow me the opportunity to have an actual _normal_ life."

"Fair enough." She curtly nodded her grudging agreement at the statement. "Go on."

"Even after I became a prosecutor," he continued. "Coming back to the States still did not allow me the opportunity to begin anew, because rather than making my own path in the judicial system, I picked up and _practiced_ , _the very old and very bad habits_ of my mentor, and was more obsessed with a perfect win record than actual justice. It was due to my ruthlessness, not my recognized success, which resulted in my nickname, which still haunts me to this day. _Demon Prosecutor."_

He let out a resigned sigh.

"The rumors, the barbed remarks, they kept following me, with my tainted reputation preceding me everywhere I went! At a time when I needed to clean the slate more than anything in the world, still, I could not escape the chains of my past. So I took drastic measures."

"And lead me to believe that you took your own life," she stated hollowly, sinking like a ragdoll onto the sofa, still clutching the cushion to her chest.

"I didn't want to be found, Franziska. Not until I became a man worth _finding_. Not until _I found myself_ and the true meaning of what upholding the law, and being a prosecutor _truly_ meant to me."

Miles' face was earnest as he crouched down at her feet, his expression pleading with her to understand.

"I was not out there _sunbathing_ in Europe. I went from country to country, some more crooked and corrupt than my wildest imaginations, realizing that this world needs a prosecutor that incarcerates _true criminals_ , based on _evidence_ , and _not their egos_. For the rest of my days, I will never forget some of the nightmarish scenarios encountered during my travels."

A haunted look came into his eyes then, and Franziska lightly tugged at his hand, urging him to come to sit on the sofa next to her.

"What kind of nightmarish things?" She prodded gently when it appeared he was too lost in the terrible memories to speak.

"I went to many countries studying the judicial and court systems throughout all of Europe. In Greece, I sat there and watched the trial of a 20-year-old _punk_ kid, whose father was some billionaire oil tycoon, walk away with a mere _two-year sentence,_ on what was his _umpteenth_ drunk driving offense, the latest one which killed a grandfather and grandmother and their four-year-old twin granddaughters."

He buried his head in his hands.

"The defense seriously attempted to claim that being from such a wealthy background, the defendant was slightly crazy and out of touch with reality, and shouldn't be held accountable for his actions! This rascal had a record of previous offenses _a mile-long_ , Franziska! When he was 15, he drunkenly crashed his car right through the gym doors of his high school. When the officials called his father, that _Hurensohn_ _had the gall_ tell them to _shut their mouths_ , or else he threatened to _buy the whole school_ and put them all out of jobs if they dared take things to a higher level."

He looked up from his hands and regarded her appalled face with distressed eyes.

" _Two meager years_ , Franziska," he whispered brokenly. "That was _all_ the courts gave the scoundrel, for wiping out _four_ lives. Where is the justice for that family? _You_ tell me!"

"Oh, Miles…" she swallowed hard at the pain in his eyes, but he still wasn't done his tales of international horror.

"I went to Poland. There was a woman, with bruises all over her arms and a black eye, who had just been released from the hospital, where her husband had nearly _beaten her to within an inch of her life_ because he thought she had overcooked the cabbage rolls. All of this in front of their 5-year-old daughter."

The barrister raked an agitated hand through his hair.

"The woman had a police report, a medical report, photos of the damage she had done to her body, along with her traumatized daughter's _recorded witness statement_ , read to the courts by the police officer who handled the case. _All of this evidence_ , yet the prosecutor still saw fit to ask for a reduced sentence, and the man walked away with a probationary _warning_. What _justness_ was served to that poor mother?"

Franziska was near tears again as she listened, but this time for an entirely different reason.

"I went to Ukraine." Miles shook his head miserably. "A 17-year-old boy was the one on trial because he had tried to defend the honor of his 14-year-old sister by some affluent businessman, who tried to rape her one night when they were coming home from a party. That _Saukerl_ broke that young boy's leg and dislocated his arm, while only suffering a bloody nose himself for his vile actions, and yet _he_ wasn't the one on trial for assault! The prosecutor moved for dismissal! _This_ is the kind of filth that's out there in the world! These helpless, innocent people need someone on _their_ side, to try to protect them from _people like this_!"

His voice shook.

"They _need_ someone who cares about _the truth_ , and nothing else, _no matter what_!"

"I am so sorry, Miles," Franziska uttered sincerely, placing a hand on his arm. "That sounds beyond awful. It must have been quite disturbing to witness such terrible things happening to innocent people."

"No! I'm grateful that I _did_! I have lived a very sheltered life until now, and have been unable to see what's out there in this world!" Miles hissed furiously. "And now that I have, I know what my path in life _should have been_ , and _will be_ , going forward. I couldn't have done that if I hadn't taken the time to get away from everything."

He paused and looked her straight in the eye.

"Regardless, the one thing I am most sorry for is making you feel like you were all alone, mourning for a man who was nowhere near the pearly gates just yet. Forgive me, Franziska, I beg of you."

"I am very happy that you are alive, Miles." Her eyes were more saddened than angry but also filled with compassion. "Speaking of mourning, there _was_ a time when I desperately wished, more than anything, that you had been by my side. That would have been at Papa's funeral."

Her gaze dropped to her lap.

"He – he was executed while you were away. I – I thought you should know."

Miles saw the tears glistening in those mesmerizing silver orbs, and gave himself a thousand mental lashes for the fact that she'd had to mourn both him _and_ her father at the same time. He loved her so much! How was it that in trying to be a better man, and do the right thing, he kept unintentionally causing her more and more pain?

"Come here," he said gruffly, pulling her into his arms. "Your father was a legal legend, Franziska, and news of his passing _did_ make it over to Europe. My deepest condolences for your loss."

"You mean you already _knew?"_ She cried indignantly, attempting to wrench herself free from his embrace. "You were aware of the fact, yet did not even bother to attend, or find it prudent at that point to let me know that I still had _one_ more existing member of my family left?!"

"I thought it would be best if I stayed away." His countenance was morose as well as apologetic. "I didn't want to have my somewhat _infamous_ presence steal Manfred's thunder at his funeral. Besides, I felt as though I would be partaking in some sort of morbid _farce_ to be standing there, _pretending to be grieving_ , alongside the other _actual_ mourners, considering my newfound stance regarding your father, Franziska. The whole notion seemed grotesque to me. Although for what it's worth, I _did_ send flowers, even if I did so anonymously."

He regarded the woman in his arms with sincere eyes.

"I swear that you and Katharina were both in my thoughts." Her eyes softened then and his tongue loosened dangerously. "E – Especially _you_ , though."

They stared at one another for several, breathless heartbeats, and Miles became _imminently_ aware then that _all she was_ _wearing_ on that nubile physique was a silky robe, the sash of which had loosed somewhat during their earlier struggle, and a chemise slip nightie underneath were the sole garments between her and his suddenly ravenous eyes, his starved touch. And the way she was gazing at him only heightened his awareness that she, too, was fully aware of the intimacy of their situation – and was no more averse to it than _he_ was.

He saw the soft invitation in her eyes and, in an unguarded moment of complete accord, it seemed right somehow, to respond. Tipping her chin up, he brought his lips to within an inch of hers and felt the gasp of her indrawn breath, as, at the same time, her body seemed to tense. Puzzled by her rather extreme reaction, he lifted his head and waited for what seemed a long time for her to open her eyes. When her long lashes fluttered up, she looked confused and expectant. As he gazed into those inviting metallic orbs, he slid an arm around her waist and touched his lips to her lobe. His warm breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine and she turned her face away from the cause, which brought her lush mouth into near contact with his. Her soft lips parted on a shaky breath, his noble intentions slipped his mind, and Miles' passions arrived unannounced and ended explosively, like detonating bombs.

Franziska knew the moment his arm tightened on her waist that she couldn't have been expecting this stormy rush of sensation that made her gasp and cling tighter to him or the frantic beating of her heart when his fingers shoved into the hair at her nape while her body seemed to want to meet and forge into his.

He felt her lean into him and fell helpless to it all as he lifted his head and stared down at her flushed face, stunned by his unprecedented reaction from this innocent girl-woman. He watched her lids open as she gazed into his eyes, both slightly annoyed with himself at his loss of control and distinctly amused by the fact that an untutored, slip of a girl was responsible for it.

All Miles' life, his preferences had run towards passionate, experienced, sophisticated, women who knew both how to give and receive pleasure. The notion that he could be so violently aroused just at being in the mere embrace of a child-woman was almost comical. On the other hand, she was showing herself to be an eager and willing _student_ during this intense moment in his arms, and there had been a hint of shyness, even now, although she remained locked in his embrace, steadily returning his gaze.

His amusement vanished and he felt an unfamiliar ache in his chest. Without realizing what he was doing, he laid his fingers against her cheek, fingers playing with the incredible softness of it. Her whole body seemed to melt and burn and he loved the feeling, and at the same time, it made him feel guilty, uneasy, and uncertain. She was still so vulnerable, and he had caught her completely unaware by popping back into her life so unexpectedly – he didn't want to take shameless advantage of her in such an emotionally charged situation.

Helplessly enchanted, he put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted it up, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her full breasts were pressed against his chest, her hair was gliding over his hand, and that soft, full mouth positively invited a man's kiss. She was dangerous and subtly intoxicating, and he cursed the stirrings she caused within him, knowing she deserved his respect and his protection, not his lust. Intellectually, he knew that, but his brain seemed to be hypnotized by her smile and her voice, and his body was being ruled by arousal that was becoming almost painful. Either she didn't understand that he was rigid, or she hadn't noticed… or she didn't mind.

Franziska had every intention of punishing Miles in some way and still wasn't sure she'd fully forgiven him his deceit, especially regarding her father's funeral… until his hand touched her cheek. The acceleration of her heart rate had nothing to do with fear or anger, and everything to do with what her body desperately craved. She couldn't look away and instinctively knew after all this time, that he could read her like a book. His burning eyes were on her rapidly rising and falling chest, her breathing rate duly noted.

With a gentle finger, he reoriented her face so that he held their gazes, stealing the passion from her eyes in a way that only magnified the spark. There was no smile on his lips, only the hot intensity of his eyes that they both knew would be the start of the inferno to come.

She watched his gaze drop to her lips and felt her heartbeat triple. His hand curved around her nape, stroking it softly while his other hand drifted up and down her spine in an endless caress, as his hand clamped tighter against the base of her spine. She leaned towards him, letting her hand slide up the hard muscles of his chest, over his shoulders, arching her body as she brought him closer to her, and his arms went around her like iron bands, sending shivers of primitive sensations through her quaking body, and she clung tighter to him.

Miles lay her back on the sofa, gazing down at her, and then, something within him clicked.

_I think it's as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of yourself lives - maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit makes you be yourself and not anyone else. You don't usually show that bit of yourself to anyone, unless sometimes to someone that you love greatly._

With a mixture of disbelief and amusement, he gazed down at the exquisite young temptress who had not only managed to drug not just his senses, but his mind and heart as well.

 _That's just it_ , he realized. _I **love** her. **That's** why I don't want to rush this. This still doesn't feel quite right. It doesn't feel like our time is right now just yet… Not when I haven't been fully honest with her._

As though sensing his hesitation, Franziska squizzed at him curiously.

"Is something wrong?"

"There's something really important that I want you to know, which I haven't divulged to you yet. I cannot have an eased conscience until I have fully purged myself to you," Miles admitted remorsefully. "I feel like there's something else that you need to know about my return back to Los Angeles."

Taking a deep breath, he blurted out the words before he lost his nerve, fully knowing the risk he was about to take.

"I've been keeping an eye on you for some time now. I was not only keeping tabs on your father's funeral, but on essentially all of your cases, and everything you've been up to since you've been here in America."

She eyed him warily then and he heaved a deep sigh.

"Franziska, you're not the first person to know that I'm not dead."

 _"Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch!"_ She shot up from beneath him so quickly that the top of her head nearly butted against his chin, and Miles nearly bit his damn tongue off! " _I_ am _not_ the first person? Who _was_ then?"

Her eyes flashed as they roam searchingly over his guilty looking face.

"Tell me, Miles! Who? Was it my sister?"

Silence from the chess lover.

Franziska's voice rose with growing resentment.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me it was that fool _, Phoenix Wright!"_

"It was Gumshoe, Franziska," Miles confessed, expelling a deep breath. "It was _I_ who secretly helped during the investigation of the Maximillion Galactica murder trial back in December. _I_ was the one who secretly called the good detective, swore him to secrecy, and directed him to do a surprise search of Acro's room, as well as advised him not to be too harsh with the poor man afterward."

The fire reignited and Franziska's eyes, only this time, not from passion but utter _fury_.

"That was the _second_ case that I lost against that foolish Phoenix Wright!" She seethed. "And it was the evidence that was found in that paraplegic's room that helped him triumph over me once more! Did you not _realize_ I was the prosecutor of that case?"

He looked away, his silence speaking volumes, and her voice rose.

"You mean to say that you _willingly_ deceived me? It was _you_ who put helped put that _second_ proverbial nail in my coffin?! How could you _do_ such a horrendous thing to me?!"

"I had to do what I thought was _right,_ Franziska!" He protested, although cringing inwardly at the pejorative glare she shot him. "Wright's client was innocent! I just help steer them in the right direction to prove it, because that was _the truth!"_

"Your so-called precious _truth_ made me lose my _second consecutive case,_ you foolish fool!" She roared. "How _dare_ you?!"

"It's not about winning or losing, can't you see that, Franziska?" Miles cried. "It's about not sending the wrong man to death row! _This_ is why I was gone for a year! Having you _not_ been _listening to a bloody word_ I've been saying to you?!"

"What I am hearing is that you betrayed me – yet _again,_ you despicable _Judas!"_ She screamed. "This is the very last time you will _ever_ do so, do you hear me?! I forgave you for playing possum and  
purposefully missing my Papa's funeral, leaving me to mourn by myself at a time when I could have used your support more than ever. Now, to add insult to injury, you profess to have double-crossed me – and having a hand in making me look like a fool in court! And in front of that insufferable, foolish defense attorney, of all people!"

Her phizog was puce with rage.

"Miles Edgeworth, I _hate_ you!"

She went to launch a pillow at him again, but recurrently, the logic genius had reflexes that were in top gear, and he grabbed the cushion while it was still clutched in her hands. He desperately tried to wrestle the intended weapon out of her grip but in a bizarre motion of _déjà vu_ from the year before with her whip, the frenzied _Frau_ maintained a tenacious grip on the item. It was yet another impromptu game of tug-of-war, which neither one of them intended to lose. The result was both prosecutors toppling off the sofa and onto the carpet, with Miles inadvertently pinning the fiery beauty beneath him.

"Get off of me, _Gott verdammt!"_

Almost crying from temper, the enraged Franziska raised a palm to slap him, but once again he caught her hand in midair, then grabbed her other hand, throwing her arms over her head. Pinning both her wrists down to the floor, he stared down at her, his smoky gaze filled with intensity as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Will you please calm yourself, you _crazy hellcat!"_ He gasped, his chest heaving.

Franziska stilled in her struggles as she stared back at him unflinchingly. Her face was flushed and her chest was heaving gently. With each apprehensive breath she drew, her dark lashed eyes were wide with confusion, anger, and desire, looking as though she wasn't certain what she wanted to do.

A surge of concupiscence roared through him. With one hand, he brushed back a glossy lock of hair from her forehead and hoarsely uttered the fitting words of the famous Tina Turner song into her ear.

_"I don't care who's wrong or right, I don't really want to fight no more."_

He placed his other hand gently on her waist. For a few seconds, they just lay there, breathing heavily, without moving. He scrunched his hand up and grabbed a ball of her satiny robe in his tightened fist, his lips just millimeters away from her lobe. He could feel her shiver every time he exhaled, even as, with the last remaining shreds of his sanity; he frantically thought to himself, _this cannot happen._

Miles knew he could take her, fast and furiously, right then and there. He was also aware that it would be crazed, angry, frantic lovemaking _;_ easily the most explosive, passionate, and most assuredly the best carnal encounter of _both their lives._

It was déjà vu all right, but not the good kind.

Over two years ago, a gentlemanly young prosecutor had stepped into the office of another emotional woman, who had been weeping at the time and had sought merely to console her with his embrace and offer her friendly comfort. What had started as a noble intention had ended up with him essentially being _the other man_ in a wild, illicit two-year rendezvous; one that'd only ended up burning him _and_ Lana both in the end.

An affair in which he _never_ should've partaken in the first place!

_Things happen. **Passion** happens. I could always argue that my attempts to comfort Lana led to our first passionate kiss that day in her office. Nonetheless, there's no argument in the world to justify the fact that I made **frantic love to her** , **right there on her desk** , **just moments after**! That was back during my Manfred influenced days; when I thought that all women were mere objects I could conquer and possess, simply because I desired them and that they were mine for the taking – even if they belonged to another man! Von Karma was nothing more than a despicable, adulterous bastard and I should've known better than to use him for a role model in any way, especially in my romantic life! Yet, here I am, a hair's breadth away from nearly having history repeat itself by making the very same mistake with said philandering Hurensohn's **daughter** , who, unlike my ex, is no woman of the world whatsoever! She is young, inexperienced, and right now, emotionally vulnerable, confused, and angry! She lost her virginity to a complete cad the last time she was emotional and angry with me, and thus deserves to be wooed and made love - but **not** when she has just been jolted from her senses, and shaken out of the norm. I can't do this to her. I **won't**! I **love** her too damned much._

Miles stared down at her regretfully, knowing that he wanted nothing more than for _it_ to happen. He felt Franziska stir beneath him, and her hand was reaching upward towards his visage, not to slap this time, but to cup his cheek in her palm to turn his head, which had been bowed down in contemplation, to face her, so she could assess what was going on in his mind. He knew that if she looked in his eyes when they were this proximity that he was going to cave in. He was going to kiss her. And immediately thereafter, he was going to make frenzied love to her, like some sort of _callous rake_ , right there on her hotel room floor!

As much as his body didn't want to, his mind knew he had to stop this from happening, for _both_ their sakes. Slowly, he raised himself onto his arms, letting her robe fall out of his hand, but kept his open palm placed against her side. Franziska slowly turned her face toward his and Miles swallowed hard, knowing she was a split second away from facing him, and then it would be game over if he gazed into those come-hither eyes. He now had zero choices but to be a _complete bastard_ to put the brakes on this _steam engine_. And he had to do it _now!_

"So you _hate_ me, do you?" He murmured silkily, putting his lips down by her ear once again so that they nearly touched her ear lobe. She shivered from the warmth of his breath and he forced his voice to harden. "Well, for the record, _I love you, too_ … BIG SISTER!"

With that, he pushed himself up and off the floor, then swiftly rose to his feet, already halfway across the room and headed to the door by the time the shocked and spluttering Franziska managed to get back up as well, her chest rapidly rising and falling with every panting breath.

"What kind of twisted game are you trying to play with me, Miles Edgeworth?" She shouted at his retreating back. "You know full well _you_ wanted this just as much as _I_ did! When are you going to cease being such a pathetic coward and stop running away from me?"

Miles didn't turn around, just marched right up to the door, flung it open, and glanced regretfully back at her enraged, bewildered, beautiful mien one last time.

"Someday, you'll understand," he said simply, then bowed grandly. "Good Night, Big Sister."

Then he shut the door behind him.

Furiously, Franziska grabbed the closest nearby object to her with any weight. In this case, it was the porcelain vase holding fake flowers sitting atop her coffee table, which she then flung at the door as hard as she could. It smashed into a million smithereens just as her face crumpled and she sank onto the sofa in an angry flood of tears.

"I am NOT your sister, you _Saukerl!"_

On the other side of the door, Miles leaned heavily back against the solid wood and closed his eyes, sighing soundlessly.

_I'm sorry Franziska. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own. And I'm not ready for that. Not just yet…_

* * *

**_Miles Edgeworth_**  
 _Von Karma Estate, Germany_  
April 14, 2026

_Nobody else's touch will ever be enough anymore, no look will be satisfying. It simply cannot convey every emotion I have. I need you to feel every emotion I do when I touch you. I need you to feel the burning sensation in the pit of my stomach, I need you to feel the hotness in my forehead, I need you to feel how my head spins when I smell the lingering scent of your perfume anywhere. I need you to feel the frantic beating of my heart, when, in the first second I look around myself in a city which has lost its colors since you left, I search for your face in the crowd of strangers. Only then does it dawn upon me the hard truth of our unfortunate separation, and my heart drops to my feet. In the next few moments, I stare emptily through the window while I attempt to gather my heart from the floor. I pick it up, I breathe in, and look out again. Another drop of my heart as I reflect on that day at the LA airport when I scrounged up the courage to kiss you for the very first time. A ghost of a smile lingers on my lips, and I close my eyes until the tears burning behind my lids roll back into my skull and I can breathe again…_

Miles was still sitting at the computer desk in the study when he heard the footsteps behind him. He didn't even realize that he still had the webpage open to the very last page Franziska had been looking at, as he had been too busy listening to the music playing on the website, while his eyes remained closed as he'd taken his little stroll down memory lane. He couldn't bear to see these images any longer; although, in all honesty, the poignant song playing on a loop in the background was gut-wrenching enough in itself.

" _Tears in Heaven,_ by Eric Clapton." Lana suddenly whispered from behind him, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Possibly the most tragically beautiful melody about a parent losing their child ever created. It was the perfect song that the two of you chose for little Carol's Memorial website."

Miles' eyes snapped open as her voice shattered his moment of fool's paradise. He spun around in his chair to stare at his friend, whose eyes were bright and puffy; her cheeks streaked with tears. He'd completely forgotten that she was even in the house; had assumed that she'd left immediately after making her phone call.

The brunette sniffled just then, and warning bells went off in his brain. Something was very, very wrong.

"Lana, what is it?" He asked quickly, rising from his seat and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Has something happened? You were going to call Ema ... Is everything all right? Is _she_ all right?"

"Ema's fine." Lana shook her head miserably as liquid pools filled her lovely eyes. "But no, everything's  
 _not_ alright, Miles. That call was because she wanted to tell me about J – Jake."

As she spoke the words, the Agent burst into a fresh set of tears.

 _"Marshall?"_ Miles peered into her face with concern. "Lana, talk to me! What happened?"

"I chose to become betrothed to a hero, _that's_ what happened!" She sobbed. "There was a fight at the prison, and the jailhouse bullies were picking on one of the inmates for some stupid reason, so my gallant cowboy just _had_ to come riding to the rescue. He stuck his neck to defend him from the attackers – and it caused a riot. He's not hurt but because he was part of the ruckus, they are denying his parole, for which he was eligible _this summer!"_

She buried her face in her hands.

"I haven't seen Jake in _seven years,_ Miles! We were _so close_ to finally being able to be together, only to have _this_ happen now!"

 _"Oh no!"_ He groaned, pulling her weeping form into his arms as her tears soaked his shoulder. "I am so sorry, Lana."

"It – it's so unfair!" She wailed. "Why does this sort of thing keep happening to us?!"

"Can he not appeal the decision?"

"Sure, he can damn well _try_ , but I'm not going to _hold my breath_! The same legal system that has kept Jake behind bars for such a minor misdemeanor, all these years, is hardly going to go easy on him! They've already thrown the book at him for being a former cop, one that's been incarcerated for stealing evidence, but moreover, assaulting a fellow police officer! They're not going to show any mercy with him now partaking in a _prison fight,_ even if it _was_ for _noble intentions_!"

Despite the tragic circumstances, Miles couldn't help but smile grimly at the choice of words.

_Noble intentions – falling flat? Can hardly claim that I'm a stranger to that, myself!_

"Not to sound overly nosy or judgmental, but what made you decide to look up your baby's commemorative site?" Lana asked, sniffling slightly as she wiped her tears on her sleeve. "I mean, it seems like a pretty heartbreaking thing for you want to come home to…"

Miles swallowed painfully at the lump in his throat as he realized his friend had no idea about _his_ devastating news, in recent light of her own.

"Franziska – she's gone." He closed his eyes and shook his head, as though trying to block out the painful thought. "I came home and I found she'd left me a _Dear John_ letter. I have no idea of her whereabouts, so I tried to play detective and happened to click on her browser history. When I checked out the last thing she looked at before she left, that memorial site for our daughter was what came up."

"Obviously, she was in a highly emotional and melancholic state at the time of her departure."

Grateful for the momentary distraction from her own misery, Lana opened the browser history once more and clicked on the second to last tab. A window popped up to a video channel, which featured the Cyndi Lauper classic 80's ballad, "Time After Time."

"Wow, this tune is a pretty forlorn one, as well," she observed, glancing over at Miles. "I wonder what had happened that made Franziska so unhappy?"

"That song significantly symbolic – more bittersweet than blue for us," he explained wistfully. "When she was younger and just starting to learn how to dance, this was the song that we first danced to. I once referred to it as _our song_ , completely in jest. Later, after we got together, Franziska told me that the ballad always reminded her of me, even if at times, growing up, she felt that she would never keep up with me because I'd always seemed to be a few steps ahead of her. It made her both happy and sad at the same time, even though I'd promised her that I would _never_ be so far ahead of her that she wouldn't be able to catch up to me."

"Hmm, so she was feeling nostalgic as well as somewhat despondent right before she left," the former detective mused. "Since you seem so thrown off course by this, I'm assuming you didn't see this coming? How were things between you right before you had to leave?"

Miles shrugged helplessly.

"Things were never quite the same after we lost Carol, despite my efforts to restore the intimacy to our relationship. However, right before I had to go, she allowed me to _properly_ kiss her, for the first time in months. Moreover, she kissed me _back!_ I actually, perhaps naively, had hope then that we could once more rekindle the romance and the passion when I returned." He laughed bitterly. "I even mentioned to her that perhaps we could discuss trying again for another baby when I came back. Talk about two people never being in harmony, or _even on the same page_! I have no idea how long she felt this way ... so detached and completely disconnected from me."

"Um..." Lana glimpsed at something in the web history and gulped. Quickly, she closed the internet windows, then turned around to face him with a strained smile. "Anyway, Miles, thanks for letting me use your phone. I'm going to go call a taxi now and get out of your hair like I'd promised…"

"You've always been terrible at hiding things from me and you _still_ are." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Lana, what the _hell_ did you see in the web history that you are palpably struggling not to tell me?"

 _"Nothing!"_ She insisted, biting her thumb. "Look, you just got back from a long trip and unfortunately came home to quite a shock! Miles, what you really should do is have something to eat and then get some rest. The last thing you should be doing is worrying about superfluous details such as _how long-ago_ things were…"

"Let me see that bloody thing!"

Brushing past her, the agitated legist reopened the last two websites, the memorial site, alongside the music video site. His prosecutor logic had already deduced that Franziska had felt very forsaken and separated from him, as well as very mournful and desolate right before she'd left. He couldn't fault her for anything. After all, he _had_ been gone for nearly a year; perhaps it had just been too much for her this time. Maybe she had gotten fed up with constantly feeling as though he was always leaving her behind.

_And to be fair, I **was** gone for quite an extensive period…_

That was when he saw it.

May 16, 2025.

A _year_.

Franziska had decided to leave him … almost _one full year_ ago.

She'd had the _figurative_ foot out the door around the same time he'd had one _literal_ foot out the door as well; except _he_ had been leaving or the call of duty – not out of their relationship! Nonetheless, she had given him _zero_ indication of her intentions, when she'd had ample opportunity to do so – _in person_ , which he was certainly entitled to after _eight goddammed years!_

Instead, his former betrothed had taken the spineless, sneaky exit route with that blasted billet-doux!

The so-called love of his life had secretly checked out of their union when Miles hadn't even been gone for _three weeks_ at the time! Like a simpleton, he'd jauntily set off on his journey, foolishly believing he'd had her blessing to do so the whole time. He'd naïvely spent all his days and nights warming his heart and hopes with the memories of her sweet lips on his, eagerly anticipating the day he could come home to her. He had been lovingly faithful and completely lost without her. He'd even let down his guard about keeping things private and had been chattering away like an animated chipmunk all this time, to Lang, Lana, and _anyone_ that cared to hear about his gorgeous fiancée back home; about how he couldn't wait to return to her loving arms.

However, this time around, it had been not Miles, but _Franziska_ who'd been the one to be several steps ahead and out of reach. Moreover, she had coldly, deliberately, and heartlessly left him behind – and in the most _yellow-bellied_ way possible! After all the times _she_ had called _him_ a _coward_ in the past, this final blow cut like a knife.

He would have described his heartache like the music of a great orchestra. At times it was quiet and allowed him to function, at other times the violins would play and he would be sad, and at times, there was a flute playing, and he was able to remember her with fondness, which was rare though, and he enjoyed the moment. Right now, it would rise to a crescendo, and the anger would burst from his chest in a vicious shout of excruciating _anguish_.

"Miles?" Lana placed a hand on his arm, her sweet voice filled with concern. "Miles, are you OK?"

He turned to face her then, his heartache rapidly being replaced by the overly familiar feelings of anger and betrayal, which seemed to be _synonymous_ to him regarding anything related to people with the name _Von Karma_. He could've laughed at the question. _OK?_ Of course, he wasn't OK! He wasn't sure he would be _OK_ , ever again!

"Lana, do you believe in _signs?"_ He asked abruptly. "As in perhaps certain heuristic signals from the universe, trying to tell you something, which you are either too blind or too stubborn, to take immediate take notice of?"

The Interpol agent placed her hands upon either side of her former lover's head and gazed sorrowfully up into his eyes so he could see the empathetic heartache within the teal depths, which he knew reflected his own.

"You mean, have I ever wondered sometimes _fate_ is trying to tell me just throw in the towel?" She whispered dolefully. "That perhaps _,_ if I can't _be with the one whom I love_ , I should try to _love the one I'm with?"_

Miles nodded stiffly.

"Like right now, with us both finding out the devastating news about Jake and Franziska? Do you wonder if maybe all of this happened because it's some sort of _sign_ that perhaps _neither of us_ are meant to be with the ones whom we believed we were fated for?" Lana's eyes were welling up again. "Yes, I do think it's time I paid heed to these ... signs. I've tried to deny that there's still something buried between us, Miles, but you can't tell me that _you_ don't feel it too. Perhaps _that's_ why Franziska left you. Maybe she sensed something, which you and I have been trying too hard to ignore."

"I don't care to think about _what_ she was thinking anymore." He closed his eyes. "She's made her bloody choice! I just know that right now, I am too angry to think straight and I wish I could hurt her back the way she has hurt me…"

"Don't get angry and vengeful." She brought his face down so that his forehead was resting against hers as she peered into his dejected gaze. "What has happened, has happened, life will go on, and eventually, you _will_ find peace. You could even choose to take this as a _sign_ , Miles. I know you said that you were thinking about trying to have another baby and that the two of you have had heartache in that department in the past. Maybe... you and me… I don't know. Maybe _I_ could…"

"Stop." He cut in harshly. "I – I don't want to talk right now."

Limpid, long-lashed turquoise orbs gazed into stormy sterling ones.

"So, what _do_ you want to do then?"

"I don't know anything, anymore," he responded gruffly "But I _do_ know that I without question or doubt, that I want to kiss you right now, Lana Skye.”

He trailed his finger over her jaw and down her throat, his stare never unlocking from hers. As he leaned over her, she felt a heightened awareness of every part of her body that touched a part of his – the edge of his hip pressed to hers, his chest sliding against her own, his fingers tracing from her wrists to her forearms, to thread through her hair and tilt her head up, then framing her face. He held her in place, lips near her ear. When he kissed the sensitive spot, her breath shuddered at the familiar sensation and she closed her eyes. Her head swam, and she was drawing in short bursts of air as if she was surfacing every few seconds before diving deeper.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, and then slowly, ever so slowly, his lips began their descent down towards hers…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eric Clapton - Tears In Heaven
> 
> Translation:  
> Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch! – I can't believe it!


	120. Bonds Of Moirai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death. I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing. Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity, and stumble from defeat to defeat.”

**_Magnifi Gramarye_**  
 _Hospital Room, Palliative Ward_  
April 13, 2019  
  
  


As always, Valant had been too late. It had been almost a shame to disappoint him so, but after all, he had failed the test which his rival had passed with flying colors, as exemplified by the glaring bullet hole in the clown next to his bedside.

The old man smirked to himself. No matter; the deed was already done. Zak had already come and gone with the cherished magician trade secrets in his grasp, and would be the recipient of his father-in-law’s will, and then, as would, subsequently, his offspring. The Gramarye secrets would continue within his bloodline, as tradition had always both ordained and intended. He beseeched to the powers that be that his granddaughter would someday bear her own progeny, and consequently continue the revered miracle techniques of Troupe Gramarye.

 _His granddaughter._

Magnifi frowned. His only beloved daughter’s child …Trucy Hecate, the middle name given in honor of the Greek goddess of magic, which he was positive had been aptly bequeathed. The little girl was already showing great promise as an aspiring performer, and he was confident that she would find her way down her destined family path. With that train of thought, a blinding headache sharply and unexpectedly hit him then, along with the glaring brainwave, which he often tried to suppress, but had been coming to him more and more frequently in the two years since his terminal diagnosis. The truth was inescapable. Trucy was _not_ his only grandchild.

She had a half-brother.

 _His grandson._

The offspring he had ruthlessly decreed should be denied their family name. That child, who would undoubtedly be a man soon by now, was out there somewhere in this world as well.

While it was too late for Magnify to remedy the wrong he had done by the boy when he had mercilessly coerced Thalassa to abandon him, all he could do now with hope against hope that the hands of fate would correct his selfish wrongs. He prayed that someway, somehow, destiny would bring the siblings back together once more.

 _The ending of life is expected, we all live in this mortal plane. What I resent is death being longer and more painful than it needs to be. My body will self-destruct, day by day. The tumor will grow, spread, consume, squash the very organs that work to sustain it. I've had a pretty good life, better than most, I don't need to hang on as a living ghoul; an "exit" pill would be kinder than all the attention from the hospice staff that lies ahead._ _My life from here on in these four walls, along with pain medication, until the day I die. I don't want it, not any of it. Last year I put down my Cocker Spaniel to save him from a painful end, so why can't I have the same? Perhaps if I scream and scream for pain medication, I can get an overdose, slide out on a feather-lined cloud into the arms of the Almighty._

The doctors had told him he had a maximum of three more agonizing months to endure before he would finally meet his Maker. In the end, it wasn’t dying that scared him so much as the pain. If he didn’t wake up in the morning, he would know nothing of it. His affairs were in order; his successors were as provided for as they were ever going to be. He had already grieved for the loss of life he should have had with his loved ones months ago. He had cried until his eyes ran dry and his chest heaved violently. He had wanted to see his granddaughter grow to be a woman and perhaps even set eyes on his daughter’s forsaken firstborn son, to see how he had turned out, to absolve his own conscience, had he been able to ascertain that the boy had turned out all right. However, that wasn’t his kismet and Magnifi had accepted that the Lord had called him home well before he was ready to return.

_Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it…_

Another sharp pain pierced his skull, more intolerable than the first, and with it came an even clearer image to his mind’s eye. As time went on, they were becoming more and more crystal-clear, and he had recently acknowledged them for what they were… Psychic premonitions of things that were yet to come; events that would happen, only after his passing.

The more of them he envisioned, the more Magnifi came to love his grandchildren. However, at the same time, to his great umbrage, the more it also made him slowly realize the deeply seated and incurable faults of both his protégés. His end was drawing ever nearer and once he passed, the darkness would consume his family; his grandchildren caught in a vicious cycle of unhappiness where both would die on stage. It seemed that there was no hope for them...

Another blinding flash in his mind, this time a crystal-clear image, without any sound, that was so vivid he almost felt as though he could reach out and touch the shining star he could suddenly see in the corner of his vision. His heart was filled with hope.

Magnifi saw a man; not a magician, but equally as gifted at performing miracles as he. The man wore a blue suit and loved with all his heart, always seemingly able to find more. He protected the defenseless and performed death-defying feats for those who carried a piece of his heart. In this man’s future, he could clearly see his grandchildren as two of those very lucky few who were carried within this sacred place, both of them equal recipients of this incredible man’s fatherly love and devotion.

 _What was this now_?

An odd little purple sprite woman who completed that man, with elfin features and laughing eyes. She was exuberant, silly, and lighthearted, bringing smiles to the faces of everyone around her despite bearing a dark family history of her own. She loved her little cousin like a daughter, even though her treacherous aunt had attempted multiple times to have her put out of commission to have her own child usurp her place as their village chief. With this man and this woman watching over them as parental figures, his grandchildren could live long, joyous lives and would be well taken care of for the rest of their days.

So, what could Magnifi do other than begin his work? THIS would be his greatest performance! His most rewarding miracle! For it wouldn't be for inconsequential things like 'fame' or 'fortune' or 'glory' or some all-encompassing 'greater good.' No, it was all to make his grandchildren happy. And happy they would be and blessed, all of them.

However, that couldn't happen while they were trapped with the Troupe. Zak was always going to leave them, eventually. Too much wanderlust... and passion for frivolous games. Would all hope be lost after all? The magician’s heart sank.

_Wait!_

Another likeness loomed from the shadows, coming into the fray. A man in a top hat? He somehow discovered the Gramarye ties that bind and brought it all to light because he knew this mysterious man in the blue suit. This man had uncovered great mysteries in the past as well… Including solving the puzzle of an illusory town that was one big magic trick, which had been conjured into being all for the sake of one little flaxen-haired girl; perhaps a tad excessive, but he could certainly appreciate the masterful work, especially from a man who isn't even a magician. He was a man of science and logic – a world-renowned _puzzle-solving archaeologist_? Perfect! Then, all he would need was a bit of a hint so then he could pass on the important message to this man in blue. The man’s name … _Phoenix_ was it? Yes, Phoenix! What a wonderfully majestic and poetic name … A mythical bird that rose from its own ashes… As would this man, from any hardship that tried to leave him buried and forgotten in the dust…

_Phoenix. You have my blessing, take care of them... Make sure to take care of yourself, too. It seems that the world still has **quite** a lot in store for you..._

The pain that once burned like a fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of the old man’s vision then as it jerked him back to reality, and the only thing was then conscious of was his own accelerating heartbeat. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. Seconds passed as he lay there in agonizing pain. Magnifi’s eyes fell to the red nurse call button on his bedside. If he were to press it, he would have people soon swarming all over him, trying to help him, trying to save him. Had the effort not been so unendurable, the magician would have laughed. Surely, they could tell that it was far too late for him to be saved, yet they were like children, naive to the darkness of the real world, something he had readily accepted long ago. Perhaps his excruciating, long-drawn illness, which would cause his untimely demise, was a divine punishment; karmic retribution of some sort for the sins he had committed but was too late to atone for.

Magnifi had long since stopped asking “Why me?” He had ceased raging at God. The man upstairs worked as fast as He could through scientists and doctors, the magician knew this. It just wasn't _fast enough for him_. Therefore, now that he had taken care of his affairs, the old man was now all set to go to Him. He was ready. Ready to leave behind him the despair and suffering he’d endured in the world. He would be exiting it soon enough and finally be able to leave all the pain behind him.

It was time for the final curtain call.

He closed his eyes. With that last premonition of what the future held for his descendants easing his mind, he knew he could die happy now.

These were the final thoughts of Magnifi Gramarye, _Master Perceptionist_ , as he pulled the trigger, and his fragile, human heartbeat one last time.

* * *

 ** _Kristoph Gavin  
_** 2019

Kristoph Gavin’s long-standing hatred for Phoenix Wright had begun first by reputation before it accelerated into being a matter of principle. It was three years in the making, all of which had come to a head in April of 2019.

The initial cause of ire had been when the greenhorn attorney had first gone head-to-head in court with Winston Payne and shamelessly defeated the Rookie Killer veteran prosecutor in the same manner of ease that one would crush a beetle under a steel-toed boot. Certainly, Winston Payne was a bumbling idiot at best, but it had been the spiky-haired man’s _first-ever case_! And a murder trial to boot! Since when did defense attorneys successfully win such cases?!

Kristoph had been both annoyed and intrigued but ultimately had dismissed it as beginner’s luck and nothing else.

A few months later, another murder case made all the television news channels and newspaper headlines. The renowned defense attorney, Mia Fey, had been murdered, and apparently by none other than her own baby sister, Maya! No defense attorney worth his or her salt would take it on, as the press and the public was both positive of the teenager’s guilt in the heinous crime, declaring it an open and shut case. Kristoph had only paid more than half a mind to the entire situation when it came to light that Phoenix Wright would be handling the defense. The blond man had enjoyed a perverse chuckle at the notion. What could the bumbling, wet behind the ears, attorney possibly gain, other than a humiliating defeat?! _Especially_ with the prodigal, undefeated High Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth, who Kristoph had always respected and admired, being Wright’s courtroom opposition?!

 _Phoenix Wright may have won his first case based on pure dumb luck_ , Kristoph convinced himself. _Nevertheless, **this** time he is in **way** over his head!_

The German man had been completely gobsmacked when, after miraculously absolving his client from all murder chargers, then somehow ending up in the defendant’s chair _himself,_ Phoenix Wright had done the _mother_ of all turnabouts and handed the esteemed Miles Edgeworth the first defeat of his illustrious legal career!

The same fickle press, who had first deemed Maya Fey, and then Phoenix himself of being guilty of their accused crimes, and had all but _sentenced them to death_ , were now hailing the young attorney! Kristoph felt positively _ill_ as the media inundated him with the outpouring of praise and glory being showered on the rookie attorney, now referring to Phoenix Wright, _ad nauseam_ , as the King of the Turnabout! His meteoric rise to fame completely eclipsed Kristoph's own minor acclaim as The Coolest Defense in the West! It was so unfair! _How_ had a _second-rate_ attorney, a complete _lowlife_ from _nowhere_ , not only stolen his thunder but then gained such an _undeserved_ reputation for legal brilliance?

Kristoph's fuming only intensified into a full-blown rage as later that year, another legal bigwig he'd always revered, the legendary Manfred Von Karma, also toppled at the hands of Phoenix Wright, not only suffering his first courtroom loss but being sent to death row for crimes he'd committed that the spiky-haired man had uncovered from _15_ _years ago!_

Phoenix Wright was now seen as a _hero_ , _on_ _top of_ being considered _the best thing since_ _sliced bread_ to the legal world! It was flat out stomach-turning _!_

To watch how the mighty had fallen at the hands of a newbie defense attorney was bad enough. But then, a year later, Phoenix Wright's courtroom brilliance soon began to ruin _Kristoph's own courtroom record_ , thanks to that _porcupine headed PRICK_ being the champion of getting his clients declared innocent via having the unsuspecting witnesses of their trials end up shouldering the blame! The result was that the incensed German would be stuck with defending these guilty as sin clients, whose fates were already sealed by the time Kristoph got around to defending them!

Ken "Acro" Dingling, Richard Wellington, Furio Tigre…all their trials were a complete _joke_ – the German's defense arguments all a complete sham, which he had no hope in hell of ever winning! All of this resulted in only further intensifying his burning hatred for the blue attorney.

 _Now_ it had become _personal!_

 _Someday,_ Kristoph brooded darkly. _Somehow… I will claim my rightful place at the top of the pile, and nothing, not even God himself, will stand in my way!_

Kristoph was a patient man when he had to be. He knew his big chance would come soon enough, as surely as he knew that nothing would hinder his entitled and surely destined heralded spotlight in the legal world. He was consumed by the seductive allure of promised power, fame, and prestige – the three symbols of status that validated his own importance, as well as his reason for turning to the world of law. It was hard to make a recognized name for oneself when their much younger teenage sibling was a universally beloved household name, both as a Rock God, and now, at 17, as the youngest prosecutor in the state, but Kristoph was confident his enduring perseverance would pay off.

The answer to his prayers arrived one day in April when a young girl named Trucy Gramarye had called the Gavin Law Offices, stating that her father Zak wanted Kristoph to come to see him at the Detention Center.

Kristoph had felt his pulse quicken with excitement. Of course, he had heard of the world-famous magician troupe, and the idea of potentially representing his first-ever celebrity client, and getting all the fame that would go with it, was like a dream come true. He all but flew down to the Detention Center to see the incarcerated performer.

Kristoph listened intently while the illusionist explained his woeful tale of wrongful arrest and being the falsely accused suspect in the murder of his father-in-law, Magnifi. The pink hatted man told the attorney that before his mentor's passing, he had been given the inherited transferal of rights of the old man’s legendary magic tricks. As Trucy watched the two men silently, Zak proceeded to show Kristoph the diary page he had been given showing all of the information he had just relayed to him.

“You’ve made the right decision in contacting me,” Kristoph assured him smugly. “Rest assured that The Coolest Defense in the West will see to it that you walk away from the trial tomorrow as a free man.”

“I’m very grateful for your willingness to defend me,” Zak returned smoothly. “However, before we agree to anything, I wish to challenge you to a game of poker. Do you accept?”

Kristoph was floored at the outrageous proposal. He had never been the sort to engage in chance endeavors whatsoever. Moreover, while he had refined tastes and certainly had more than enough wealth to enjoy the better things in life, he had never been the type to squander or risk his money foolishly. He despised gambling or anything where his luck was not a guaranteed sure thing, although he was somewhat acquainted with the preliminaries of poker and had a decent grasp on how to play. However, what he could _not_ grasp was how a man that was facing death row if convicted of the crime, which he insisted he was innocent of, could wish to gamble at a time like _this_?

The magician saw the attorney’s bemused, disapproving expression and laughed.

“Don’t worry, we are not playing for money. There’s so much more that can be determined from a simple poker game than mere dollars.”

Kristoph shrugged mentally and allowed the cards to be dealt. Immediately he saw that his hand was terrible, and folded right away, completely disgusted by what he saw as nothing more than a waste of time on such trivialities when he should have been investigating matters to better assist his client in court the next day!

“Okay fine, you won, I lost,” he announced peevishly, glaring at the larger man. “Are you happy now? Now that you are assured that you are the more superior player of this menial little card game than I am, shall I go about my duties of putting together your defense for tomorrow’s trial?”

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Gavin,” Zak answered, a dark shadow crossing his face. “There’s so much more that lies beneath the surface than just a game of cards. It is through poker that you can see the type of man a player really is. His entire character can be ascertained by his body language, his emotions, even his innermost thoughts can be revealed by something that is seen as a simple trivial game of chance. I have _seen your hand,_ _in more ways than_ one, shall we say?” He flashed a mystical smile then as if to take the bite out of his previous words. “I am happy to have you as my defense counsel. Good day to you.”

With that, he tipped his hat at Kristoph, and allowed himself to be led away by the bailiff, leaving Kristoph even more confused, and now somewhat irked, even though he wasn’t quite sure why. Regardless of what he thought of Zak Gramarye, however, the man was his ticket to guaranteed acclaim and prestige, and unlike the magician, Kristoph Gavin did not believe in leaving things, including the fate of his clients, to mere chance.

He was whistling softly to himself as he headed off to go visit his old acquaintance, Drew Misham.

* * *

 ** _Kristoph Gavin_**  
 _Gavin Law Offices  
_ April 18, 2019

The evening before Zak’s trial, Kristoph conceitedly ran his finger over the envelope holding the forged piece of evidence he had commissioned, with which he had ensured his victory. The icing on the cake was the discovery that he would be going up against Klavier, and his debut prosecutor case in court the next day. The supercilious grin on the defense attorney’s smug visage was unwavering at the notion as he rapturously daydreamed about how this famous trial would not only make him a legend of the legal world but also give him the unsurpassable pleasure of showing off his superior lawyer skills against his empty-headed, superficial baby brother.

 _I’m going to mop the floor with you, Klavier,_ he snickered to himself. _You’ll wish you had stuck with caterwauling mind-numbing lyrics for your legions of teenyboppers and left the legal world to the big boys!_

The German man was so engrossed in his quixotic woolgathering that when the phone rang a moment later, at first, he was positive that he had heard Zak incorrectly.

The son of a bitch had opted to _forego_ _his attorney services_ and was therefore informing him that he would _not_ be representing him in the trial the next day!

Shocked to his very core, Kristoph heard his meek voice numbly asking who would be taking his place as the magician’s defense counsel, somehow already knowing the answer even before Zak told him his despised nemesis’ name. He barely registered the piffle that the magician apologetically spewed right afterward, regarding his genuine belief about what kind of man was behind the poker cards, and _blah blah blah_. At this point, the blond man was too busy shaking with rage at the notion that he had once again fallen victim to that imbecile of a defense attorney! And over something as trite as a _freaking poker game_?!

There were no words to describe the raging hatred that threatened to consume him.

_You’ll pay for this Phoenix Wright. I don't just want to kill you; I want to put you in a pit and add the shovels of dirt slowly until your Goddamn mouth is full of muck. I want to hear your cries as the rocks rain down on you thicker than a hailstorm. Death would be too good for you, although that would almost be welcome at this point._

He grinned cruelly; his wild eyes wider than any sane person's should be. 

_I don't care if you have no idea what it is that you have just done, I don't want to hear it. Zak, you should have told me all that crap back when it could have made a difference! After **all** the trouble I've gone through for you, sparing no expense whatsoever to ensure your freedom, **this** is how you choose to betray me?! The two of you deserve everything I’m about to unleash upon you henceforth! Hatred is all that is left._ _All I am is hatred, all I am is rage and I'm going to ruin you. I'm going to see to it that you pay. What then? I have no idea. I don't care what's next, that's where I finish. I hope you're proud, this is all **your** handiwork!_

* * *

 ** _Kristoph Gavin_**  
April 20, 2019

_Revenge is a dish best served cold._ Kristoph rubbed his bony fingers together with glee. Phoenix Wright’s fall from grace and exile from the legal world was the most poetic justice imaginable, and it was all he could do to keep from cackling with glee when The Bar Association panel demanded the helpless, pleading man’s attorney badge and then proceeded to destroy it right before his devastated eyes.

Even though he had made every move possible to ensure his bases were covered, what with the “special nail polish” and even more “exclusive stamp” he had gifted Vera Misham with, Kristoph knew he still had to be one step ahead of the game. He would be keeping _a very close eye_ on Phoenix Wright going forward, who was surely a man of _some intelligence_ to have lasted on his bumbling legal luck as long as he had and therefore, possibly have half a mind to deduce Kristoph's own conspired involvement in getting him stripped of his badge. Being the sole dissenter of the tribunal to vote against the action would not be enough.

He would have to ensure that he never showed any sign of hostility towards the unassuming disgraced attorney. He needed to maintain a respectable appearance to the world, after all, even if it meant _forging_ a friendship with the disgraced former attorney that he so loathed, spending copious amounts of time visiting him in that dank hole in the wall bar where he assaulted everybody’s ears with the godawful _drivel_ he called _piano playing_! While their feigned alliance was of course a complete ruse, the grim satisfaction the German man got by regularly seeing the great Phoenix Wright forced to make a living in that frigid Russian hovel, run by a couple of _cartoon-character like_ individuals as his bosses, was 100% genuine. It helped ease the blow to his still scarred ego!

Admittedly, the second-rate former defense attorney, turned equally second-rate pianist, _did_ provide some intelligent and witty conversation, although Kristoph often fervently wished Wright’s disheveled face showed some _sort_ indication of the pain and depression he was undoubtedly feeling, rather than the impassive, slightly smug countenance he always bore, which didn’t suit his current plight in the least!

With the _forgin’ attorney_ no longer around as his key rival, Kristoph's law firm prospered greatly, and he slowly, but surely, began to achieve the prestige he had so coveted. He hand-selected, out of _hundreds_ of applicants from the Ivy University Law program, an understudy five years after Phoenix Wright’s career defense attorney had met its untimely end, to commence working in his office upon graduation.

The young man had a most unusual name, Apollo Justice, but the defense attorney sensed a genuine earnestness in the young student and was impressed by his determination and dedication to the law. Undoubtedly, he had the potential to be a great lawyer someday and Kristoph was happy to take him under his wing. There was little doubt in his mind that someday, Apollo had the makings to perhaps even be in the same ranks as Kristoph _himself_ as far as great attorneys in history went!

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice_**  
 _Gavin Law Offices_  
April 17, 2026, 1:15 PM

 ** _  
_**“Thanks for coming to meet me for lunch, Clay,” Apollo said to his best friend as they neared the Gavin Law Offices. “It was nice to get out and enjoy some beautiful spring weather for a change. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in folders and paperwork.”

“You’re _still_ just a glorified desk jockey?!” Clay’s animated dark eyes widened in surprise. “You’ve been working there a good few months now! You’re telling me he _still_ hasn’t let you work on an actual case in the courtroom?!”

“I guess Mr. Gavin doesn’t think I’m ready yet.” Apollo’s spikes drooped dejectedly. “All I do is push paper and boring administrative stuff because Mr. Gavin is so busy with ongoing trials that he cannot be bothered to deal with these sorts of miscellaneous tasks!” He scowled and kicked a rock on the pavement in frustration. “I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful brat, Clay; I _know_ it’s a privilege to already be working for such an esteemed attorney straight out of law school – there’s a bunch of kids from my graduating class who _still_ haven’t found a job! However, I have to tell you this pussyfooting around …it _stinks!_ What’s the point of graduating at the top of my class if I can’t put my theory to practice and get a chance to point my finger in a _live courtroom_ and shout out _Objection!”_

“This truly bites the big one,” Clay nodded solemnly, although his eyes were dancing with mischief. “To think of all the time spent waking up at the crack of dawn to practice your earsplitting _Chords of Steel_ may have been in vain! I think _that’s_ what so greatly diminishes the fact that you have the coveted position of being assistant to the best defense attorney in Los Angeles! You know I honestly think the allure of emulating your former idol’s finger-pointing and shouting was the real reason you decided to be a lawyer?”

“ _Very funny_ , Space Man!” The fledgling defense attorney glowered at the young astronaut, then his shoulders slumped and a wistful look came across his baby-faced features. “Number one – Mr. Gavin wasn’t always the best in the west, of whatever it is he claims to be! And number two…Phoenix Wright _never_ stopped being my idol! I still strive to one day be as great as he was! Do you know except for that Matt Engarde case, he trumped Mr. Gavin’s winning record by a landslide with a perfect set of courtroom triumphs?”

“ _Apollo_ …” Clay let out an exasperated sigh. “I know you had this fanboy level of hero worship for the guy back in the day, but I’ve seen _widows_ in less mourning than _you_ have been the last seven years! You have _got_ to move past this whole Phoenix Wright thing! As your best friend, I have to tell you it’s _mondo depressing_ for me to watch and it _cannot_ be healthy for _you!_ You never knew the man, and _he_ never even knew of your existence! He’s probably forgotten all about that book I got him to autograph for you a million years ago! Besides, no one knows _where_ the guy is, or _what_ he’s doing … Or even if he’s still –”

“Don’t even _think_ of finishing that thought!” Apollo interrupted fiercely, his golden eyes ablaze. “I _know_ he’s out there, Clay! He’s going to come back with a vengeance and _totally_ clear his name! He’s just waiting for the right moment, that’s all! He’ll return even _better_ than ever and everyone is going to call him The Comeback King!”

“You make quite the fervent defense, Mr. Justice. Phoenix Wright should be so lucky to ever have you as his counsel.” The raven-haired boy eyed his friend sympathetically. “It’s been seven years. Do you _seriously_ think he’s ever going to come back after having disappeared for so long?”

“I do.” Apollo jutted his chin stubbornly. “He’ll rise from the ashes, Clay, you mark my words!”

“I’m sorry. I just hate the idea of anyone who you put so much faith in, disappointing you,” Clay said gently. “It’s touching that you still have the memory of him on such a high pedestal, but do you honestly, in your _heart of hearts_ , believe that he’s innocent?”

“I know it sounds crazy because he’s like a celebrity that I never met, whose death I am lamenting,” Apollo muttered, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “But from everything I saw and knew and read about him, Phoenix Wright was special. One-of-a-kind. He was this…epic, larger-than-life figure in court, yet still I sense he was also a gentle soul when out of the courtroom, whose loyalty and kindness was unsurpassable. At his core, _I just_ _know_ he's incapable of such foul misdeeds; he's as honest as they come!”

“After hearing your passionate plea on his behalf, I no longer know what I think about Phoenix Wright, Apollo.” The boys had reached the office now, and Clay smilingly shook his head and gave his old friend a goodbye punch to the arm. “But I _do_ know that tonight after work, you and I are going to go out for a drink, and we are going to raise our glasses to your dreams! I am going to get us a couple of Dead Lawyer cocktails, and we shall have a celebratory toast to my best friend! _I just know_ he is going to _finally_ prove himself to his _blind as a bat, completely bullheaded_ mentor, and thus receive his first big case, _really soon_ , and make a name for himself in legal history as _Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney!”_

“Thanks a lot.” Despite his depression, the red attorney flashed a rueful grin. “It means a lot to me that you’re so confident in my abilities.”

“And just what kind of best friend would I be if I _wasn’t_?” Clay returned blithely, flashing his customary shit-eating grin. “The key thing is, do _you_ believe in _yourself?_ Y _ou_ know _you’ve_ got what it takes to be a Clarion of Revelations in the courtroom, so why not just ask your boss to give you a performance review to see where he thinks you’re at?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Apollo blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head in his typical endearing fashion. “Now why didn’t _I_ think of that?”

“We’re in big trouble now, aren’t we?” Clay smirked, adjusting his visor. “ _I_ was supposed to be the looks, and _you_ were supposed to be the brains, Apollo! It wouldn’t be fair for me to be _both_! So smarten up, get those Chords of Steel ready, and go roar your own damn praises at that boss of yours!”  
  
The quip earned the astronaut a final laughter-filled, parting shot to the arm before Apollo took a deep breath and strolled into the office, where he found Kristoph sitting at his mahogany desk, flipping through some case files, mumbling and nodding to himself.

The young man took a deep breath and quickly expelled it before he lost his nerve. “Mr. Gavin, Sir, might have a word of your time? Um, that is, may I please get a _moment of your time_ to have, er, _a word_?”

The blond man glanced up, looking most displeased at the interruption, but quirked a well-groomed brow at his employee and waved a manicured hand at the seat across from him.

“What’s on your mind, Justice?” He steepled his long fingers together and looked down his nose and over his glasses at the now squirming defense attorney. “Is something troubling you?”

“Well, not exactly _troubling_ me per se…” Apollo blushed and scratched his head nervously. “I mean, I _love_ working for you, Mr. Gavin, really I do! It’s both an honor and a privilege! It’s just that…um, I think I have been doing a really good job handling every administrative task you’ve given me, no matter how heavy the workload is, and I was just wondering… When you would think I would be ready to finally see the inside of a courtroom?”

“You mean to say you’re sick of pushing paper, and you want to do the more fun stuff associated with being a lawyer now, do you?” Kristoph chuckled quietly as he studied his understudy’s fervid expression. “The young Mr. Justice seeks to play in the big leagues now, does he?”

“Er… I don’t think I would be _too_ terrible…” Apollo mumbled, his burning face undoubtedly matching his vest by now. “But you know, _you’re_ the boss for a reason! Er, many of them! Ergo, if _you_ don’t think I’m ready, maybe it’s just best to try to forget that we have had this conversation in the first place?”

“I suppose I could give you my thoughts about your performance as an employee in a nutshell if you desire.” Kristoph smiled thinly and pushed glasses up his nose. “Would you like to get your performance review?”

“Um, sure.” Apollo nervously laced and unlaced his fingers underneath the edge of Kristoph’s desk as his boss reached into his drawer and pulled out a leather-covered notebook, flipping open to a page that looked as though it had _a lot_ of writing on it.

“Coming to work on time… _Perfect_. Attendance… _Perfect_.” The defense attorney looked up from his notes to study his employee’s visibly relieved face and cocked a half-smile. “Accuracy with reports… _Mostly_ _satisfactory._ ”

Apollo felt his horns beginning to droop.

“Adherence to deadlines… _Passable_. Maintaining decent voice levels both indoors and in front of clients _… Needs work_.”

Apollo felt himself begin to sweatdrop. _What the hell was I thinking just accosting him like this and demanding to go to court already?!_ He silently screamed. **_Worst. Idea. Ever!_**

“Overall, considering you are a fresh graduate and I knew better than to expect any sort of _perfection_ as such…” Kristoph clapped the notebook shut and smiled proudly at his understudy. “Altogether, I’m quite impressed. You’ve certainly proven to be a valuable employee under my instruction thus far, and I agree that you should get a chance to prove yourself in court. Not _solo_ of course… I don’t think you’re quite ready for such, but under my guidance, I think we can _release you_ from the _shackles binding you to your desk_ with the next client we get. How does that sound?”

“That sounds incredible!” Apollo blurted out before he could stop himself. He already knew his voice had gotten too loud for comfort when Kristoph cringed slightly and motioned with his hand for his protégé to lower his volume. “I promise I won’t let you down, Sir! And I’ll work _super hard_ on my indoor voice, I promise!”

“I’m glad to see I have alleviated your concerns.” Kristoph smiled thinly. “I’m quite certain of your capabilities as an attorney, Justice. You’re smart, you’re sharp, and while you’ve got your quirks, I have no doubt that you have what it takes to make me very proud to be your mentor, and that you will represent me and my firm very well in the near future.”

* * *

 ** _Kristoph Gavin_**  
 _Gavin Law Offices_  
April 19, 2026, 5:33 PM

Kristoph was just about to leave the office for the evening when the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Kristoph, it’s me.”  
  
“Good evening, _Herr_ Wright. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you … _Yet_ _again_?”

“It was just as I feared when I called you last. I’ve been arrested for the murder of Shadi Smith, and I need an attorney.”

“I see. And when will I be defending you?"

“ _You_ …?” A humorless chuckle on the line. “No, Kristoph, I don't believe I will be requesting your services in court. All these years of being a poker shark have decidedly made me a gambling man.”

Kristoph felt as though his heart had stopped beating at that moment. _What the hell is that blasted man up to now?_

“Are you still there? I was under the impression that you had an understudy, I believe…?"

Kristoph's mind reeled. Every single time he had seen Phoenix Wright over the years it had always been on his adversary's own territory, _never_ his. And while he had made sure that _he_ had familiarized himself with _every single relevant detail_ of the disbarred attorney's _comings, goings, and all relevant associations_ over the last seven years, _he_ hadn't _ever_ made the other man privy to any sort of information about himself, whatsoever! After all, what better way to ensure that he remained the _hunter_ rather than the _hunted_ than to keep all his own dealings secret and held close to his chest?

“How have you become in possession of this information?” He demanded harshly.

He could almost hear the other man shrug on the other end of the line. “Let’s just say I have my sources. If you’d be so gracious as to allow Mr. Justice to defend me in court on the day of the trial, I would be much obliged.”

“You’re calling rather late you know. It’s a miracle that _I_ was still at the office.” Kristoph said quickly, wondering how the damned degenerate knew the name of his employee! “Apollo has left for the day already …”

“ _Oh_? _Is_ it after-hours?” A short, dry laugh. “They don’t let us have access to clocks or watches where I’m currently at. No matter, just to be safe, I have already taken the liberty of putting together my letter of request for Mr. Justice to be sent out tonight. I imagine you will receive it in the morning.”

Kristoph found himself simultaneously growing more and more furious and perturbed. “You would forsake _my_ counsel for my _apprentice_?” He hissed. “Is this some sort of a twisted _joke_?”

“A Joker is a wild card in a poker-playing deck. However, I am not anything of the sort in either the _literal_ or _figurative_ sense, although I suppose one could consider me to be fortune's _fool_ , considering this is my _third_ time being charged with murder.” Another mirthless guffaw. “I tend to _not_ be a Joker when my life is on the line.”

“Apollo Justice is fresh out of law school _rookie_! While the young man is very bright and shows a lot of promise, he most certainly _is not_ ready to take the lead on a case, least of all _a murder trial_!” Kristoph’s voice was barely above a strangled whisper. This threw _quite_ the monkey wrench in his game plan! What the devil had motivated Phoenix Wright to request _his_ _apprentice_ , of all people?!

“Thank you kindly for the warning, but I already signed and filed the request. Look out for it in your early morning mail at the office. You should receive it right before my trial commences...tomorrow morning.”

“ _Herr_ Wright, this is _not_ a poker game! This is _your very existence_ that you’re gambling with,” Kristoph tried one more time to appeal to the man’s _nonexistent_ logic. “You are _literally_ playing a game of chance _with your life._ The stakes here are higher than you can ever imagine!”

“I understand them better than you think, _dear friend_.”

“Fine, have it _your_ way then! But don’t expect anything _special_!”

Kristoph’s final words were met with the sound of the dial tone in return. Just like the last time, Phoenix hung up before he could continue his argument. He slammed down the phone with an earsplitting clang and gritted his teeth.

 _That detestable Hurensohn **dares** to snub my benign offer of services to him in place of a rookie who hasn’t even gotten his feet wet in the world of law! I had only wanted to get us both off the hook and deal with Wright myself, but **fate** has directed **this** turn of events! Oh well, at least the only silver lining in all of this is that **constant thorn in my side** will spend the rest of his years rotting in prison for my own offenses since I’m as sure as the day is long_ _that Justice is too much of a newbie to have the skills to declare his innocence! Even if my protégé heads the case, he's still going to be under **my** guidance. Yes…the plan will still work…so what if there's a minor change?_

The defense lawyer was mentally going through his step-by-step plan for the following morning’s trial. Everything was going according to his plan, with only a couple of hitches. In this particular case, he supposed, with a touch of waspishness, that he could at least _pretend_ to talk to all related witnesses and get their testimonies beforehand, as per usual, to at least _somewhat_ give the appearance that he was going to do the best job he possibly could as the defense counsel! In _this_ case, though, he _wouldn’t_ need to make the extra invested time or require bribery to secure the various applicable affidavits, but at least he could be relatively sure that by talking to the people involved in the following day's court case, everybody’s stories would be accurate! Ultimately, it was all about keeping up appearances; just because he planned to send his client _up the river,_ it most definitely didn’t mean it had to be _glaringly_ _obvious_ to all who witnessed it!

Humming to himself, and feeling slightly calmer now, Kristoph whipped out his mobile phone as he strolled out the door of his office, and began dialing a number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Justice,” he said smoothly. “Mr. Gavin here.”

"S – Sir? I- Is everything OK?” The young man stammered, obviously flummoxed by the phone call. “Er, sorry, I wasn’t expecting your call, since you’ve never rung me after hours before…”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Kristoph replied calmly. “It was only a few days ago that you requested your premier courtroom appearance, did you not? Your wish is my command. You have your first client case.”  
  
"A client… _Me_?" he asked uncertainly, although Kristoph could hear the excitement bubbling beneath the surface. "But are you sure…I’m _ready_ , Mr. Gavin?"

“I have complete confidence in you, Justice. You'll do fine."

“W- wow! Thank you, Sir! This is great news! I’ll come in bright and early tomorrow morning to start preparing!” Apollo was positively bubbling with excitement, like a bowl of Rice Krispies cereal. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

 _“T_ - _Tomorrow morning_?” Apollo croaked. “Sir, that would be asking a lot even from a veteran defense attorney like yourself! How can you expect a _novice_ like me to be able to handle a case that's been dropped into my lap at the _eleventh hour_?”

“You’ll be fine,” Kristoph returned dryly. “As sure as you’re _Apollo Justice, you’ll be fine_. I should know; I’ve heard you enough times, shouting ‘ _I’m Apollo Justice, and I’m fine!’_ while you practice to your Chords of Iron each morning before I get to the office!”

“Oops! Heh, heh! I try to do that when I’m alone at the office to spare your eardrums, Sir!”

“That’s quite considerate of you. Incidentally, I can still hear you coming down the hallway from the elevator.”

“Er, sorry Sir. And it’s um, Chords of _Steel_ , not _Iron_ , sir.” Apollo sounded embarrassed. “But if _you_ have faith in me, I’ll do my very best, Mr. Gavin, Sir! So…what is our client's name?"

"It should be a familiar name to you, Justice," Kristoph smirked. "You will be defending Mr. Phoenix Wright in court tomorrow."

There was silence on the phone for the longest time, and the German man was just about to ask if his employee was still there when he suddenly heard a loud screech of euphoria on the line and had to hold the phone away from his poor, abused ear.

 _“Holy freaking cow!_ Is this _for real?”_ The boy gasped, breathless with excitement. " _The_ Mr. Phoenix Wright?"

“Yes, Justice, the one and only. He of forging attorney acclaim.” Kristoph rolled his eyes disgustedly. _Why in bloody hell is everyone so hung up on that pathetic has-been, Phoenix Wright?!_ _He’s been disbarred for even longer than he was an actual attorney, and he’s never achieved half of what I have accomplished for the legal world!_ “I suppose things have taken quite a turn for the unexpected, _yet interesting_ , have they not?”

“I can’t believe I _finally_ get to meet him!” The young man sounded positively giddy. “I mean, worst circumstances _ever_ but…”

“Justice, have some dignity and calm down!” Kristoph ordered, the irritation evident in his voice. “The man has been accused of a crime I am sure he is innocent of, and your job is not to act like a starstruck _fanboy_ , but as the _competent attorney_ I’m assured that you are, in order to get him that _not guilty verdict_ in court tomorrow! I presume my belief in you is not misplaced, and that you can be trusted with this matter?”

"Yes, Sir!" Apollo sounded slightly more subdued now. “I just don’t understand though! Why would he choose _me_ and not _you_?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Kristoph responded tersely. “I have never mentioned it to you before, as I prefer to keep my matters private, but Phoenix Wright is a good friend of mine. I happen to have dined with him on the night of the murder, and I only imagine he thought that information would give the prosecution unnecessary material.”

“If you say so, Sir!” Apollo sounded panicked now. He had mastered the art of panicking, complete with the ability to make his hair droop on command, like a falling TV antenna. “I guess we have no time to waste then. I will be there bright and early tomorrow.”

“Good. I'll see you in court tomorrow.” Kristoph hung up the phone, trying to stifle the mounting feeling of apprehension and unease that he couldn’t quite shake.

**_What_ ** _is Phoenix Wright up to? Just what the **hell** is going through that accursed man’s mind?!_

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright_**  
 _Detention Center_  
April 19, 2026, 6:00 PM

“Hey, pal.” Gumshoe cleared his throat as he regarded his old friend sitting quietly inside the holding cell, looking completely drained. “How are you holding up?”

Phoenix shrugged noncommittally.

“About as good as one could possibly be when he’s in prison, I guess? Thanks for asking.”

“You’re not in _prison_ , pal.” The big man regarded the former defense attorney with saddened puppy dog brown eyes. “You haven’t been convicted with anything yet. If I had _my_ way, you’d be out on bail until trial. I know you wouldn't be taking off anywhere! For the record, seeing you like this is _killing_ me.”

“I know it is, Gumshoe.” Phoenix smiled wanly. “Thank you though. I know there’s only so much you can do, even as chief of police.”

“Well, that would include making sure that you get your one phone call.” Gumshoe’s lips twitched slightly. “Which is why I’m here.”

“What are you talking about?” The big man was treated to a nonplussed indigo stare. “I’ve already _had_ my one phone call, not even _half an hour_ ago! Don’t you remember that I already called my lawyer? I mean… _you’re_ the one who escorted me to the phone!”

“You get _some_ perks having a friend who’s police chief.” A mysterious smile flickered across Gumshoe's face. “I _know_ that you already _made_ a phone call, Pal! I’m here to escort you to the telephone because you _have_ a call. As in, an incoming _received_ one.”

 _Since when are suspected criminals who are in jail – sorry, **detention centers**! – Allowed to receive phone calls as though this is some sort of hotel?_ The baffled Phoenix wondered to himself as he hesitantly walked up to the phone and looked questioningly at the now smirking Gumshoe, who was watching him with now twinkling eyes.

“Who is it?” He asked his friend.

“I have _no_ idea.” Gumshoe affected his most innocent expression. “Suppose you try picking up the phone and finding out for _yourself_?”

Phoenix gingerly lifted the receiver to his ear and cleared his throat.

“H – Hello?”

“Wright, you bloody _imbecile!”_ The unmistakably familiar voice on the phone barked. “What fine mess have you gotten yourself into _now?!”_


	121. Fortune's Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone is special; every moment in our life is unique. However difficult or painful a situation may look at the present, it soon becomes a memory and a special journey. Memories make us who we are, but it also starts declining with age. There are many ways to preserve these special moments so that we can cherish a story that's our own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Once again, thank you, wonderful reader, Aikoya, for your ideas and suggestions about how to tie in Magnifi’s divine intervention and guidance, along with having the good Professor tie into the story of Phoenix’s quest in solving the Apollo/Trucy mystery connection. Plus I really wanted to give those mystical Gramarye bracelets a bit of backstory (in an attempt to fill in some of the copious AJ plot holes!)  
> Also guys, please note that Nick and Maya’s split was March 3, 2025, which will explain QUITE A BIT...

_**Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Wright Talent Agency  
_ January 9, 2025

" _What the hell_ _?"_ Phoenix jerked up in his bed, shaking his head with confusion at the colorful recollections of the strange dream he'd just awoken from. "Why did I have that crazy dream again?" Shaking his head, he glanced over at the clock on his night table and saw that it was only 4:00 AM. " _Why_ do I keep dreaming about that Apollo kid's _weird bangle_ over and over again? I don't know _what_ my mind is trying to tell me! I've already realized he's going to be the lawyer who helps clear my name! I _also_ know that he's going to be working for Kristoph Gavin when he graduates, but that's not going to be for another _two years_! In the meantime, there's nothing for me to do but wait, just like I've been doing for the past _six damn years_! Therefore _,_ I've no earthly idea _what in Sam Hill_ my mind is trying to _tell_ me?!"

Grumbling to himself, he tried to punch his pillow back into shape and tried to force himself back into blissful shut-eye.

_I never cared about accessories, on either men or women, in my entire life! So what is so goddamn special about that gold bracelet of Apollo's that my subconscious just won't let go of?!_

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright's Journal**_  
March 6, 2025

 _ **The research notes and paraphernalia I showed Maya at Christmas, with regards to Apollo and my progress in regaining my badge was not the full story. My journal of research is still incomplete, ergo, I couldn't very well include this notebook along with her package of accrued information.**_ _ **However, now that Kristoph,**_ _psychotic, stalker bastard_ _**that he is, left me with no choice but to abolish the love of my life, it would've all been for naught anyway.**_

_**I'm hoping resuming the composition of my thoughts shakes me out of this bleakness and funk I'm in. But with Maya no longer in my life, I doubt it.** _

_I tried it, I couldn't find it_   
_Now I just wanna get back to me_   
_Back into the man I used to be_

_**That's just it. I** _ _used_ _**to be happy. Um, yeah, past tense. Sucks, I know. Still, I keep hoping someday, I'll forget this feeling of an atramentous cloud of tribulation hanging over me, and figured it'll help to write it all down and bring back some of the sunshine in my world. I used to write - even though it was just some reports about those dumb Samurai shows on the DVDs Maya got me for Christmas. Maybe I should start those again, just so that someday, perhaps she'll somehow know I cared enough to keep my word and that I completed them.** _

_**I don't really write anything more; I guess I couldn't really be bothered because it seemed scary, but mostly it seems even more ridiculous that it somehow seems scary. So now I just have this paper, this stupid book of blank paper, onto which I'm supposed to pour my innermost thoughts and feelings. And what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Feel happy?** _

_**Well, I –I don't.** _

_**It… it just sucks.** _

_**I'm still having those weird dreams about the young law student and his bracelet, and for some reason, I have this inexplicably weird, gut feeling that there's something more to that gold accessory than meets the eye, something that I don't think even the young man himself is fully mindful of just yet.** _

_**On the topic of otherworldly powers, the guilt of using my young daughter to maintain my unbeatable winning poker streak eats away at my conscience daily, even though it's a necessary means to keep me employed and help keep us fed, clothed, and sheltered.** _

_**In addition to investigating my own situation, I've been trying to figure out Trucy's power, thus far, to no avail. Maybe if I research the Gramarye family, I can find ways to help her, so she doesn't get such frequent bouts of cephalalgia from using her special talents anymore. Whenever we come home from poker tournaments, her headaches, probably as a result of having to use her keen perceptive abilities so intently, are increasing in frequency, along with the level of pain. They've graduated to full-blown migraines now, which often keep her up at night while gnawing at my guilty soul and battered heart like rabid rats as I desperately do whatever I can to alleviate the agony of the only remaining light in my life.** _

_**From what I can tell, Trucy's power is a genetic trait passed down by blood, but how can I help her control it so it won't hurt her so much anymore?** _

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright's Journal**_  
April 28, 2025

_**Iris called me a couple of days ago to let me know about the Spanish Inquisition she was forced to endure for my sake at the hands of her prying little half-sister, who paid her an impromptu and unpleasant visit recently at Hazakura Temple. I hadn't counted on how astute little Pearls could be, and I cannot believe the sweet, innocent nun was actually able to lie convincingly, considering that ever-present magatama the teenage spirit medium**_ _always_ _**wears! Unlike Maya, I've never seen Pearls take her own off, so it's a miracle Iris got away with that bluff, probably by the skin of her teeth!**_

_**The goodhearted shrine maiden wanted me to come up and visit her, as she's very lonely up there at Eagle Mountain, but I had to remind her that while I'm grateful to her for fibbing on my account, as it's for a greater good, there is no point exchanging Maya's safety for her own. And associating with me would undoubtedly put Iris's life in peril, in the very same manner that my love's had been. Ditto with Pearl. But Kristoph was not above stalking Kurain and its surrounding land before, and undoubtedly would not hesitate to do so again if any suspicious reason is given.** _

_**That being said, being apart from Pearls hurts like a bitch, as she was the equivalent of Trucy in my heart. It kills me softly every day when I think of how much pain the breakup with Maya must have caused her, which only sends me on an even further downward spiral into despondency.** _

_**I am trying to shake this ocean of blackness that's threatened to consume me since the breakup, if only for Trucy's sake, but I'm starting to feel it's an exercise in futility. I'm right back to the same gloom I experienced when I first lost my badge. The feeling is strange; too familiar yet too strange. I never know how to define it. I**_ _want_ _**to smile and laugh along with everyone, but something in me grabs my heart tight and crushes it to pieces. The brightness inside of me is gulped by something dark. No, I would be wrong to say it is dark - it is**_ _empty_ , _ **nothing else. It's the pain that's too much to cope with, too hard to deal with, and so misunderstood. I can't escape it no matter how hard I try, because it follows me around like a black shadow that's on the inside, eating away at me. I cope by just shrinking away from everyone and everything, trying to make it from one day to the next.**_

_**I just don't feel there's any point to anything anymore. There is nothing left for me that bears any meaning for me, save for my daughter. I haven't kept in touch with anybody from my old life since Maya and I split, not even Gumshoe or Larry. Admittedly though, a lot of my reclusiveness is also partially due to my wounded pride, but moreover, my battered, listless élan vital. Avoiding is easier than elaborating. After all, how to possibly explain the** _ _key reason for my distance_ **?** _**That I've (semi) purposely made myself a stranger, because** _ _**I honestly think I'm doing my friends a favor by staying as far away from them as possible. Kristoph seems to be able to zero in and target anyone near and dear to me, and if he decided to put any of my best friends on his hit list because of their association with me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.** _

_**The one person whom I safely**_ _could_ _**contact, because he's so far away, and I**_ _have_ _**tried to reach out to is Edgeworth. Unfortunately, he's not replied to any of my emails and appears to have fallen off the face of the earth since we last video-chatted with him and Franziska during the holidays. Oh well, even though Edgy's my best friend, he's probably busy with his Interpol investigations and the new baby.**_

_**I received another email from Sir Layton today. This isn't the first time the good Professor has tried to reach me, but he is now a world-renowned knighted archaeologist of utmost respect and esteem, and to my great shame, I confess to not being able to have the heart to maintain contact with him, to let him know how far from grace I have fallen since the last time our paths crossed. Hershel Layton is a beloved universal icon and an expert in his field, after all. And me? What am I now? A second-rate pianist/poker shark who slums alongside the underbelly of society? A worthless hobo bum who associates with criminals and dines weekly with latent psychopaths like Kristoph Gavin, in order to maintain our sick ruse of friendship?** _

_**The English gentleman told me that he'd gotten a message from the Kurain Master couple of days ago, indicating that she would be coming to Europe to visit him soon. Good for her. She's obviously moving on with her life and deserves to see the world around her, outside of that blasted, backward village of hers. The kindly Brit also inquired if I would be joining Maya again this time?** _

_**How can I possibly tell him that we have** _ _severed all ties?_ _**That furthermore** _ _,_ _**I can't even afford** _ _a new pair of shoes_ _**, despite the nearly worn down soles of my sandals,** _ _never mind plane tickets_ _**?** _

_**ME, being able to jet off to Europe! Now** _ _that's_ _**a laugh if I were still** _ _capable of such_ _**!** _

_**At times, I wonder if I'll ever be able to laugh, ever again.** _

_**Honestly, most days, since Maya's been gone, it feels as though my soul is being trampled upon by feet in heavy boots, and even sunshine seems cold.** _ _**I find myself standing on the brink of something I can't describe. The weight of everything seems to press down on my shoulders and I struggle to take even a single step forward. It's too much. All of it. Yet somehow, out of naught but my love for my Baby Girl, I force myself to keep moving. But every step costs me. The nights grow more sleepless, the darkness grows murkier; the pain grows sharper; all of it seems to only grow in strength and I began to despair if things will ever get better.** _

* * *

_Things that I said I wouldn't do, I did 'em_   
_Secrets below the service of truth I hid 'em_   
_This mankind is past, but can he erase_   
_The tears of a million years is human race_   
_Of animals, that taught to walk upright_   
_Then slave all day and fall in a trance at night_   
_Flowing the planet, trying to find missing links_   
_Like the men we used to be and always supposed to think_

* * *

_**But I never say a word of my inner turmoil. I most certainly cannot burden my teenage daughter with my plight. Sometimes, I wonder if my feigned smile - the horribly fake smile- is ever seen through. Does anyone ever notice that sad, broken look in my eyes that I can see in the mirror? I ponder if they see any sort of pulchritude where I see homeliness. And then I laugh, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at myself. Nobody cares. No one notices. They never seem to, do they? Nobody can read my poker face.** _

* * *

_I walk the long path alone, my feet hurt_   
_Lost some friends along the way, I did dirt_   
_I went to church, I tried everything_   
_From leaving my body, to watching the birds sing_   
_For hours, so I could feel heavenly powers_   
_Had been across the universe and inside of flowers_   
_But what is it worth, I'm still just a man on the earth_

* * *

_**I've fought for years, even though it seems to be a losing battle. And so I continue to just march on…** _

* * *

_**Magnifi Gramarye and Helios (Jove) Justice**_ _  
Heaven_  
May 6, 2025

"I must tell you, father-in-law dearest," Apollo's biological father drawled to the old man seated next to him as they peered down to the earthly scene before them. "I have had _six years_ to get used to your presence up here with me, and I _still_ cannot believe the Lord actually allowed you to pass through the Pearly Gates and didn't subject you to a lifetime of purgatory for putting your fate into your own hands when you put that bullet to your head."

Magnifi expelled a heavy sigh as he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the sight of his beloved, bedridden granddaughter, who was literally in tears from the migraine she was presently suffering from, while the lovingly attentive Phoenix attempted to soothe his daughter as he placed a cold washcloth over her forehead.

"God is most compassionate, and understood my quandary, Helios," he replied morosely, addressing his one-time son in law, as always, by his Christian name rather than his stage one. "As the time of my impending death drew nearer, my premonitions grew more and more vivid to me and I _knew_ I was doing the right thing. I always was cognizant that Zak eventually was going to leave them, and what would have happened had my Trucy been raised by someone familiar with the Gramarye family, and its heirlooms, considering my daughter always wore them. There's no doubt my granddaughter would've encountered her brother at some point, and Valant would've insisted Apollo had some latent talent in his blood, and then relentlessly trained the boy in the magical arts to the near breaking point! Under my remaining protégé's forceful command, I could envision _both_ of my dear grandchildren finally cracking under the pressure to be the _mesmerizing_ _miracle_ type of performers that their _parents_ were!"

The legendary magician shuddered at the thought as a haunted look came into his eyes.

"I could _clearly_ forecast their simultaneous, untimely stage deaths in a horrific Houdini flaming coffin escape trick gone wrong when it backfired and caused Apollo to be unable to escape in time, causing his death by asphyxiation while his poor sister became charred to a crisp trying to save him…"

"The same way that _I_ died onstage, and Thalassa herself nearly perished trying to rescue me, had Zak not stopped her from doing so."

" _Now_ do you understand?" Magnifi cried desperately. "Helios, I so fervently prayed that someday, you could possibly at least _try_ to comprehend _why_ I did what I did, even if you were never able to truly _forgive_ me for the wrongs I made during my time on earth…"

"Please stop, Magnifi," Helios said gently. "There is no need to torture yourself any longer. God does not condemn you for your chosen actions, and neither do I. You have more than atoned for the wrong you had originally done my son by saving his life at the end when you sacrificed your own in such a manner. There's nothing left to forgive."

"It was the _one_ selfless act I chose to do in my life and I don't regret a thing, Helios!" Magnifi cried. "It was either _me_ or _them_! I was an old man and I had _already lived my life!_ I _did_ what I _had_ to do!"

"I know." The former Troupe Gramarye magician smiled softly as Trucy's pained eyes, at last, drifted into a relieved slumber as Phoenix tiptoed back to his room and crawled into his own bed. "Despite the series of unfortunate events that would commence in the aftermath of your death, I _do_ understand that your focus was entirely on your grandchildren, and _not_ the fugitive lifestyle Trucy's _cowardly snake of a father_ would then choose, which fated her to meet this wonderful man in blue."

"Phoenix Wright, the _noble, golden-hearted_ , _**fortune's fool**_ _ **!"**_ Magnifi noted gruffly, shaking his head at the troubled-looking former attorney, who was tossing and turning in his sleep now, obviously having problems drowsing off. "Last Yuletide, when Phoenix informed that little purple sprite woman that _by blessed chance_ , he'd found his lawyer, I thought that _at_ last, kismet would be working in my favor! My spirits soared when he finally revealed to his girlfriend he'd discovered the greatness of Apollo, and witnessed the Clarion of Revelations in school trials! Alas, since then, absolutely _zero progress_ has been made to make my premonitions come to fruition! The man is no closer to regaining his badge, and putting my grandchildren into one another's paths, _now,_ than he was _six years ago_!"

"Methinks it wasn't quite enough that you managed to cosmically steer him towards Ivy University last autumn to make him discover my son's fledgling legal genius in the first place." The parental pride was unmistakable in Helios' voice even as he arched an eyebrow at the distraught older man. "Perhaps Phoenix Wright is in _further_ need of divine intervention? We know that he can see ghosts because Maya Fey is a spirit medium… Perhaps he has intrinsic sensitivity to the spirit world on his _own_ accord, however? I surmise it's about time that you get permission from Our Heavenly Father and perhaps pay Trucy's Daddy an _earthly visit_ in some manner?"

"I think you may be right." Magnifi thoughtfully stroked his mustache with his forefinger. "Helios, you're not only a compassionate man but a wise one as well! I'm sorry I was so foolishly disapproving of you when we were both alive! Although Shadi Enigmar may have been a more superior performer than you were onstage, he is _inferior,_ _in every way_ as a _father, man, and human being_ , compared to you! I curse myself for the blindness of unable being to acknowledge this until it was too late!"

"I told you, I forgave you for everything a long time ago, Magnifi," Helios assured him. "I can only hope these positive traits of mine are inherited by my son! In the meantime, as you have decided to take heed my advice, you must now contemplate how to put it into execution."

"The key obstacle here is that Phoenix, despite his mystical capabilities, is still mortal, ergo there is only _so much_ I will be able to relay to him, being on the other side and no longer of his world," Magnifi explained. "Nevertheless, I think I _may_ still have figured out how to give these _hands of fate_ just _a bit_ _of a further push_ indeed…"

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Wright Talent Agency  
_ May 6, 2025, 9:15 AM

Phoenix felt as though he was in a daze as he mindlessly cleaned up the morning dishes. The morning had appeared no different than any other. He had woken up, prepared breakfast for his little girl, and sent her off to school with a kiss as he did every day. He had gone through all the motions as per usual, but this morning it was as though he had been on autopilot because while his body had been with his daughter, mentally, he was elsewhere; his mind was still wrapped up with the curious dream he had had the night before, more memorable and ingrained in his memory than any other he'd ever had before in his life.

Last night he had dreamed of Trucy's late grandfather, the catalyst that had begun the wheel of fortune events seven years prior. It was most bizarre, as Phoenix had never even met the man, yet he had prominently seen Magnifi's intense face and heard his earnest voice as if the old man had been standing right before him.

_"The key to solving most of the Gramarye Family mysteries, though, not our magician's tricks, can be found by looking into our eyes. The answer is in the Heirlooms. To further assist you in discovery upon this journey into the unknown, seek the aid of a gentleman friend whose trademark accessory never wavers from his person. You have my blessing. Take care of my grandchildren..._ _**both** _ _of them... Moreover, please, remember to take care of_ _**yourself** _ _, because as much as you seem to be in denial and unable to realize it, you would be leaving behind a small country of grieving hearts if you ever succumbed to the darkness that often threatens to consume you."_

The passionate plea in the magician's voice was unmistakable.

_"Find the truth, Phoenix. Slice through the darkness to find the Truth that lies hidden beneath. And if you do, you will also find that_ _**fairies** _ _actually_ _**do** _ _exist and that the one you deemed to be forever lost still awaits you with open arms and her soul bared. Remember Phoenix, just as the mythical bird for whom you are named possesses tears that can heal the most grievous physical or spiritual injuries, they are also known for their ability to always be able to_ _**rise from the ashes** _ _... But_ _**only** _ _... If they_ _**choose** _ _to do so! Don't ever lose heart. It will be a long road for you all, filled with suffering and heartache, but despite feeling this seemingly endless sadness will never abate,_ _**heed my words** _ _! On the wings of a majestic Phoenix and held aloft by the everlasting love of the Almighty, you_ _**will** _ _make it..._ _**all** _ _of you...and you_ _**will** _ _find joy in your lives once again…"_

That was when he'd woken up.

The dream had left Phoenix curious, hopeful, and completely flummoxed with its nebulous message, which was subject to _so much_ _interpretation_!

' _A gentleman friend whose trademark accessory never wavers from his person?'_ He thought to himself now, running an agitated hand through his spikes. _Who_ _ **else**_ _could Magnifi have meant_ _ **besides**_ _the cravat-wearing Edgeworth, who I've_ _ **tried**_ _to contact now on several occasions, but he's never replied to me! So what am I supposed to do now?!_ He cast an imploring glance heavenward. _To whom were you trying to steer me towards, old man?! Answer me_ _ **this**_ _if nothing else!_

The answer struck him in the next instant in a flash of blinding light in his mind's eye, propelling him towards his computer as though he had no control of his body. Phoenix flicked the monitor on, logged into his email account, and hastily went back to Layton's message from a week ago. _An accessory that never wavers…_ _ **gentleman…top hat**_ _!_ _ **Bingo**_ _!_

* * *

**May 6, 2025**

_**Greetings Professor Layton,** _

_**I am most remiss in my reply to you, not only with this email but in response to your numerous attempts to contact me over the years and your kindly inquiries wondering about my overall well-being. I plead your forgiveness for my silence, as you've undoubtedly been made aware of my inauspicious situation. By this time, I imagine you've since crossed paths with Maya on her visit to England, and since discovered that alas, I was not by her side.** _

_**I realize I have no business asking for your assistance after being out of touch for so long, but I hope your benign heart can find a way to pardon me my follies, as I beseechingly come to you with the ultimate puzzle that requires solving, and I can think of no better source to turn to than the master of puzzle-solving!** _

_**I adopted a young girl six years ago, Trucy, whose last name is Gramarye. I learned that it was a French word meaning something along the lines of "study of magic or the occult". I am attempting to research the Gramarye family history, and am unable to find anything. I would appreciate any assistance in acquiring some more information of relevance, and would be happy to further explain matters to you if you could let me know a good time that we could perhaps speak about this in further detail? I am including my phone number in this email and hope that we can connect soon…** _

* * *

**June 21, 2025**

_**Good Day, Mr. Wright,** _

_**Once again, do not worry about the expense of my phone bill with regards to the long-distance cost of calling to speak with you as frequently as I have these last few weeks. I assure you that while I am no man of unsurpassed wealth, working as Chief Archaeologist for the Crown most certainly allows me the ability to reach out and connect with an old and dear friend! That's what a gentleman does!** _

_**It has been a great delight being back in touch with the after so long, and my pleasure with our regular correspondence is equally matched to my enthusiasm to have been assisting you with solving this curious puzzle which you brought to my attention a month ago. While I profess this mystery has been one of my greatest to date, I still welcomed the challenge and had little qualms taking the time to apply some creative thinking! A true gentleman leaves no puzzle unsolved!** _

_**Given the French origins of the Gramarye family, my research took to the Catacombs of Paris. It was there where I encountered the most complex series of puzzles I'd ever encountered in all my years in archaeology. I assure you these were no ordinary of puzzles, either; puzzles made by ancient scholars with a flair for trickery and a zest for mischief. With complex equations for chemical compounds, mythological theory, philosophy, constellations, and other things that quite frankly give me quite the exhilarating blood rush through my veins! At last, I stumbled upon**_ _**a circular room with crumbling tablets framing the walls. The room itself was like an ancient chemistry lab with broken beakers & what appeared to resemble Bunsen Burners. The floor below me seemed to be a fully realized Star Chart.**_

_**My attention then turned to the wall tablets.** _ _**It took me a moment to realize that all the text seemed to be in a very clever hybrid dialect meant specifically to misdirect, making me realize that I would need more time to decipher this particular code. Nonetheless, I stood by my motto that every puzzle has an answer! Brilliant! French Alchemy Tablets that had never been searched for before… what better place to hide something like these than in the largest most labyrinthine gravesite in France?** _

_**After briefly scanning over the tablet, I paused when my eye caught a certain collection of characters that stood out more than the rest, some sort of ancient dialect from the catacombs. They appeared familiar, so I** _ _**immediately contacted Dean Delmona, who was very intrigued by my discovery and gave me the green light for my request to have the area excavated, with the tablets being brought to Gressenheller for research immediately.** _

_**It was when as I was looking at the familiar characters that I'd decided to copy into my journal that I was, quite literally, given the answer. Most of these tablets were things like alchemical recipes and if you could be made by any aspiring Alchemist, but most can only be made by a Gramarye with "Eagle Eyes". Some even have illustrations, including of a few Gramarye descendants, which one of my specialized artists was able to translate into a modern-day portrait, which I've scanned and included with this email. The most curious thing of all was that even though my findings of the Scriptures are at least centuries old, there appeared to be a prophecy attached to some of the names that I encountered, which I was later able to translate into modern-day French:** _

" _Magnifi le Morts et Disparu."_

_"Zak d'Abandon Volontaire.'"_

_"Valant le Menteur.'"_

_"Thalassa le Fou."_

_En_ _fin,_

_"Prenez soin d'eux, Phoenix, mon garçon."_

_**This translates into:** _

" _Magnifi the Dead and Gone."_

_"Zak of Willful Abandonment."_

_" Valant the Liar."_

_"Thalassa the Fool."_

_Finally, at the bottom: "Take care of them, Phoenix my boy."_

_**It was almost as though I was** _ _destined_ _**to** _ _**discover this scribing! I'm hoping these will make some sense to you, although you may find a particular interest in the young woman with the caramel, braided hair of Gramarye ancestry in this commission portrait. Her name was Hera, and she was married to Zeus Gramarye. Pay close attention to the thick bangle on her wrist, which based on the photos I have seen of the young Mr. Justice, seem too peculiarly similar to be a mere coincidence?** _

_**I love the thrill of a good solution! As you know, I rather enjoy arriving at a well-earned elucidation, so please do let me know, dear friend if any other puzzles need solving!** _

_**Now that I have had the time to copy my findings and get everything translated for you, I am sending you everything I have unearthed. I hope it arrives in time for Trucy's birthday.** _

_**Please keep in touch, Mr. Wright. I wish you nothing but the best, and I do hope my discoveries bear some of the answers you have been seeking.** _

_**Best wishes,** _   
_**Hershel Layton** _

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright's Journal**_  
July 14, 2025

_**A parcel from England arrived today for my daughter's 15** _ _**th** _ _**birthday, just as the good Professor had promised. Within its contents was a book entitled "The Big Book of Gramarye Family Alchemy Recipes" along with a handwritten birthday card.** _

_**So it appears my Baby Girl is descended from legit Alchemists… Who knew? How do you even bring that up in a conversation? Anyway, Hershel was able to translate the tablets he found, obviously, and one of them described the creation of some kind of ring or bracelet. It said that this band or whatever was designed to help an 'heir or heiress of the Eagle's Eye' to 'focus their sight' or something. Not quite sure about anything more specific the Professor said a lot of the centuries-old scripture was too damaged to get anything else out of it. Regardless, this was exactly what I'm looking for and Sir Top Hat was even kind enough to send a photo of the tablet that was translated into a portrait, so at least I know what it looks like now.** _

_**I was struck speechless when Trucy laid eyes on the commissioned image of her ancestor, Hera Gramarye. The very first words that popped out of her mouth?** _

_"Oh my gosh, Daddy! She looks exactly like my mommy did! Mommy even had a bracelet just like the ones Hera is wearing in the portrait!"_

_**A** _ _bracelet_ _**Trucy said. As in plural; as in there were once** _ _two_ _**that Hera had in possession which had been passed onto the next of kin. It's** _ _that_ _**bracelet! The same one that's been plaguing my dreams and subconscious since I first set eyes on Apollo Justice!** _

_**I can't believe that I didn't put two and two together before! I know Trucy has the gift of perception; the ability to know when somebody's being dishonest or hiding something, and that it comes from the Gramarye bloodline. The fact that this bracelet stems from her ancestral family and that brilliant young man whom I stumbled upon, also seemed to possess this otherworldly perceptive power, witnessed firsthand during his college courtroom trials … I just** _ _know_ _**that Apollo bearing that exact same bracelet is** _ _no mere coincidence!_

_**According to the research, not one but**_ _two_ _ **Gramarye family bracelets had once existed, so the question of course is, where is the**_ _other_ _ **one? If I can solve that riddle, along with what really happened to Trucy's mother in that stage accident, the rest of the pieces will fall into place. I know that when Helios died, Thalassa**_ _**went back to her old Troupe without one of her family bracelets or this kid, if it exists. My question is, where did they go? More information is needed before I can come to any conclusions, but I suspect that if this possible older sibling of Trucy's is actually out there, then they most likely have the bracelet with them. I just need to find this kid and maybe, just maybe, I can give Trucy a little bit of her blood family back to her. Here's hoping...**_

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright's Journal**_  
April 15, 2026

_**So it seems the Thalassa's abandoned son is named Apollo Justice. Obviously, there's a naming trend going on here… Hera and Zeus, Thalassa and Helios, and Trucy's middle name is Hecate, named after the Greek goddess of magic. My suspicions have been confirmed. Unfortunately, now that I am all but certain of his identity and his inherited perception powers, which would be similar to my own daughter's, but which I am nearly positive he is unaware of, I write this entry in the most dismal of spirits which have nothing to do with my previous depression.** _

_**Kristoph Gavin's promising young defense attorney is none other than Trucy's long-lost half-brother! It is**_ _just my rotten luck!_ _ **Curse that**_ _periwinkle piss-head_ _**who not only cost me the love of my life, along with my badge but got his hooks into the boy before I could put all the pieces together!**_

 _ **I can only imagine what that German madman is capable of, so there's no way I can make contact with his protégé now! With that four-eyed slime-ball working in such near proximity to Apollo, I cannot risk making my identity known to the kid before it's time, for I know if I even**_ _breathe_ _**wrong, Kristoph will undoubtedly threaten Apollo's very existence! I'll just have to stay away from the young man for the time being, for everybody's sake, much to my chagrin!**_

_**I am fascinated by this young man.** _ _**Fate seems very determined to make me like young Mr. Justice! He truly is indeed a Clarion of Revelations, possessing not only a keen capability to shatter glass with those pipes of his, but also shares the same ideals and values both as Mia and I!** _

_**I am certain** _ _this_ _**was the message Magnifi was trying to convey to me in that dream last year, so I'm confident that my path is sure to cross with Apollo's at some point in the near future. The question is when…?** _

* * *

_**Shadi Smith**_  
 _Underground Poker Circuit_  
April 16, 2026, 2:05 AM

Shadi Smith, unfortunately, could not claim he was an undefeated player. His mentor had beaten him when he had first met the man, which had ignited the spark that Shadi had for the game. Since then, he'd lost many times but was somehow secretly compelled to only fully entrust those who could defeat him at a game of poker. If someone lost and didn't put their full heart into it, then Shadi wanted nothing to do with that person. It was brutal but true. It was how he rolled.

When he heard the rumors of a 7-year undefeated poker player, he was incensed – and intrigued. Such a thing could not be possible! _Inconceivable_!

 _Things happen for a reason_ , he thought to himself. _This fabled poker legend is said to be somewhere in the Los Angeles area, and as luck would have it, fortune has smiled upon me, since I need to be headed to that area for completely unrelated matters anyway!_

But first things first, since he was keeping an ear to the ground while remaining hidden underground, there was nothing wrong with indulging in his greatest passion, at his favorite old seedy locale, even if the location itself left much to be desired.

It was a well-worn, inglorious tavern, often serving a cheap, simple selection of drinks to a regular clientele. You didn't come here for the drinks, you come here to eliminate sobriety. All of the regulars there had a smoker's voice and a hard look to them. If you went in there dressed nicely, you would get stared at and singled out, and it was a good idea to wear shoes that you wouldn't mind squashing some roaches in.

The bar curved into the dark, barely lit room. Through the windows, the diamonds of lead panes trickled the sallow light of street-lamps. The smell had changed over the years since the last time he had been there. Once it was of cigarette smoke only, the perfume that clung to clothing, skin, and furniture alike. Now it was stale beer and body odor. Some establishments were more like restaurants now - all clean with waiting staff. Not here. Not at The Broken Stool. It was always a den of debauchery, alcoholism, and the great unwashed of the town. It still was. Nobody went there with anything wholesome in mind. Regardless, the obscure watering hole was the perfect place for an underground poker tournament, where nobody knew your name or gave a damn to learn it. For the only thing that mattered were the chips and the thrill of chance.

The poker dealer was a cute blonde woman wearing a red bandanna, decorated with white dice, which sat atop her shoulder-length curls. Her brown eyes bore entirely too much eye makeup and while the cloying scent of her cheap perfume was an assault to his nostrils, the fragrance was still a welcome one which helped mask the various unpleasant odorous ones of the poker playing patrons around her. Zak sidled up to the card table and admired the way her petite but shapely form was showcased in her white dress blouse, unbuttoned just enough to show a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, and fitted black dress pants and vest showed off her feminine curves.

She smirked at the muscular, snowy-suited man with the matching Deadman Top Hat.

"Texas Hold 'Em," she told him coolly, expertly dealing the cards to the players seated in front of her with lightning precision. "Are you in or out, Sport? If so, ante up now, else you can just spend the last few minutes of the final game of the night staring at me if you prefer. No skin off my back."

"I am merely observing." Shadi shook his head. "I play for the thrill of victory, not for money."

"I call, Olga," the soggy hog in the stained wife-beater on Shadi's left declared as he slapped his meaty hand down on his hand of cards.

"Then you're in the wrong neck of the woods, Buster!" She chuckled ruthlessly, showing off her winning hand to the fellow players at that moment, making three out of the four questionable-looking characters grown into the seat while one of them cackled with glee as he grabbed his winning chips. "This ain't the place for chumps that have neither gumption nor money burning a hole in their pocket."

"Is that so?" Shadi's heavy brows knitted together in irritation. "I seem to remember back in the day that this was the place to go to for a heated, but friendly poker game. I take it such is not the case anymore?"

"Where in the world have you been hiding the past 7 years?" She snapped her gum loudly. "This here stopped being a _friendly_ poker place ages ago and the stakes are high, so you either go big or go home! If you want to play the ol' _glory_ game, you'd be best testing your skills against the undefeated poker champion on the other side of town. Although it's a good thing you _wouldn't_ be betting money against the Baron of Bluffing. You'd lose your _shirt_ _and_ your _pants_."

 _Undefeated poker champion? Glory poker?_ Shadi's ears perked right up as he at last on the information he'd been searching for.

"The Baron of Bluffing, you say? That's quite the nickname," he remarked casually, affixing his most charming smile. "I am most intrigued, Miss. But seeing as how you said this was the last game of the night, can I perhaps interest you in a drink, at another location more suited to such a lovely lady as yourself, where you can fill me in about this undefeated poker champion you speak of?"

"Sorry, Sport." She sniffed contemptuously as she began sweeping up the cards and chips and stacking them neatly on the table. "I never mix business with pleasure, plus am working a double shift at my daytime gig tomorrow. If you want to know more about the poker tournaments at The Borscht Bowl, just give them a call sometime tomorrow. I'm closing shop right about now. Catch ya later." With the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving a heavy trail of toxic perfume and her wake.

Shadi was undaunted, however. He had gotten the information he was looking for. Sure, he was in town on important business, but _he_ had never claimed that he was the type to not mix business with pleasure, after all!

_Quite the contrary! What is it they say about killing two birds with one stone…?_

* * *

_**Olga Orly**_  
 _The Borscht Bowl Club_  
April 16, 2026, 12:30 PM

"I not knowink why Boris makink us be open for lunchtime," Olga griped at Tyler, who was hauling a crate of wine bottles up the stairs into the bar. "Lookit! Here is deader than Macarena! This place no havink customers until night! Why we here? To decorate room?"

"You always complain about the same thing every time you have to work a double," the bartender shot back with a grin. "At least you'll be here for the evening rush tonight. And it's only for the rest of this week while Tiffany is visiting her parents back in Alabama."

"This suckink harder than Hoover!" Olga sulked. "Nobody here to try my borscht until nighttime. Not even be fresh then."

"What's the difference?" Tyler shrugged good-naturedly. "It's served cold anyway!" Just then the telephone at the bar rang, and he sighed. "Hey, Olga, could you get that for me, please? My hands are full, and I still need to unload that truck in the back."

" _Da_. Why not?" She muttered. "At least I havink somethink to do!"

The blonde lifted the receiver to her ear, faux Russian accent in place.

" _Dobryj dyen,_ this is Borscht Bowl," she answered grumpily. "Olga speaking. How may I servink you?"

"This is a _remarkable_ coincidence," a deep voice on the other line drawled. "Olga also just _happened_ to be the name of this most fetching card dealer I encountered last night. It greatly pained my heart when she refused to have a drink with me after the poker game though. However, she _did_ kindly let me know that _this_ was definitely the place to call if I wanted to test my wits against your _Baron of Bluffing_."

Olga gulped, and vowed to herself to never again consume so many shots of vodka during a late-night card dealing shift ever again, as it had loosened her tongue dangerously! She knew all of the regulars by sight, if not by name, at The Broken Stool, and to her great chagrin, the overly chatty stranger she had encountered the night before had thrown off her groove and made her lower her guard, long enough to reveal pertinent personal information she always kept concealed.

She normally did her best to keep her double agent day and nightlife a secret from Boris and Natasha, who undoubtedly would not have appreciated her poker moonlighting. The Russian owners thought Olga was nothing more than a meek daytime waitress who could do a convincing Moscow brogue. The same rule applied with her nighttime poker customers – they didn't know where to find her during the day, and none of her dining clients at the restaurant knew the dive of ill repute where she was a card shark dealer during at night. And yet thanks to her accursed big mouth, she had been found out about her dual life! This could _not_ be good!

"Who is this?" She demanded, momentarily forgetting to put on her phony Slavic inflection.

"Olga, what happened to that charming accent you answered the phone with?" The man chuckled. "If I didn't know better, I would think you could turn it _off and on_ at _will_!"

"What you want, you no-goodnik?" She hissed, unconsciously slipping back into her Russian waitress dialect.

"Relax, lady, I have no desire to blow your double agent cover," the male voice assured her. "I am simply following your advice and calling to inquire about when your next poker tournament is."

Olga smiled with relief. Good! She could get rid of him after all!

"Sorry, no more poker tournaments this week," she informed him smugly. "Trying coming next Thursday."

"I'm afraid that won't do." A man's voice hardened. "I am only in town until tonight. Surely an exception can be made if I wish to play against your Baron of Bluffing poker champion later tonight?"

"The Baron is not here, and I no can speakink for him until he comes," Olga explained with forced patience. "He coming in at 6 o'clock to play piano, but if he no playing poker game tonight, he playing right until 2 in the morning."

"Surely I can make it worth his while to let him play me for a quick match during his break, perchance?" The man refused to be swayed. "Money is no obstacle."

"Why you not listening, Mister!" Frustration began to creep into Olga's voice. "Phoenix can no be playing with you in Hydeout because there being no dealer workink here tonight!"

" _Phoenix_ , you said his name was? I _see_ …" The man's tone sounded startled for a moment, but then altered abruptly. "But I still don't see the problem, _Olga, my dear_."

His tone was positively silky now.

"Because a dealer _is_ working there this evening. After all, last night, you _did_ indicate that _you're_ working a double shift. Therefore…there's still _you_."

Olga's heart began thumping wildly.

"You no understanding!" She hissed into the phone, casting an anxious glance around her to see if Tyler was within earshot. "Here I am only _waitress_!"

"A waitress that doesn't make enough money at her day job if she needs to moonlight as a nighttime poker dealer." The man's cadence was positively _coy_ now. "I can certainly sympathize with such a plight, and I _promise_ if you give me your _full cooperation_ , I will not only give you my guaranteed _silence_ about your alter ego but enough _Ruble_ to make it worth your while."

Olga was intrigued now, but still skeptical.

"Perhaps you and me can be talkink some business," she began doubtfully. "I have a break in between shifts at 5:00 and I can meeting you somewhere. Except very important for you to know … Nobody is knowink that I am dealer here at _this_ place!"

"That's even better," the man's friendly tone took on a slightly hardened edge then. " _Perfect_ , actually. It means that _no one will ever suspect a thing_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K-OS - The Man I Used to Be


	122. Ebbtide's Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all you put me through,  
> You think I'd despise you,  
> But in the end I wanna thank you,  
> 'Cause you've made me that much stronger
> 
> Well I, I thought I knew you, thinkin' that you were true  
> Guess I, I couldn't trust called your bluff time is up  
> 'Cause I've had enough  
> You were there by my side, always down for the ride  
> But your joy ride just came down in flames 'cause your greed sold me out in shame
> 
> After all of the stealing and cheating, you probably think that I hold resentment for you  
> But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong  
> 'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do, I wouldn't know  
> Just how capable I am to pull through  
> So I wanna say thank you  
> 'Cause it
> 
> Makes me that much stronger  
> Makes me work a little bit harder  
> It makes me that much wiser  
> So thanks for making me a fighter  
> Made me learn a little bit faster  
> Made my skin a little bit thicker  
> Makes me that much smarter  
> So thanks for making me a fighter

_**Kristoph Gavin  
**_ April 16, 2026

Kristoph Gavin didn't show up _at places_ so much as he liked to _make an entrance_. He was an extremely cocky man, and he knew it. In fact, he _exuded_ it; it was shamelessly exhibited in every way, from the way he carried himself in the way that he walked and talked, right down to the clothes that he wore. His presence commanded attention wherever he went, and it was evident he dressed to impress, in everything from his limited-edition Patek Philippe watch to his handmade Italian leather loafers to his Vidal Sassoon haircut. He expected complete devotion from his comrades and, although he acted bored when they complimented him, he still demanded it and would brood if it weren't supplied in a constant drip-feed. He only kept sycophantic friends who revered and praised him and lapped up all the words he spouted, knowing they were in the company of someone who was the epitome of legal genius.

In fact, that was one of the things he most liked about having Apollo Justice as an understudy – despite the slight intimidation he still had of his employer, the young man was like an overly enthusiastic puppy, always eager and willing to please, even to the point of nearly boot-licking degradation to meet his employer's high demands for a mere crumb token of praise in return. Some people would find this sort of devotion from their underlings nauseating, but the kid did it was such sincere, earnest charm that the German had decided he found it quite charming.

Nevertheless, whenever he needed to, Kristoph Gavin was also capable of fading into complete obscurity whenever he so chose, with ninja-like stealth and inimitable perception on the targets he was zeroing in, who were never aware of the fact that in the background, silent and unnoticed, was a relentlessly lurking hunter that was stalking his prey.

_After all, the more I know, the better I can devise the plans that I have in store… Considering it's been_ _**seven years** _ _in the making…_

Furtive shadowing was exactly what the blond man was doing at that very moment as he surveyed the pencil-necked reporter he had been tailing on and off for the last seven years conversing in the near distance with a towering, muscular figure. The mystifying male was dressed head to toe in white, in a cheap-looking suit and Jaxon Deadman Top Hat, both of which appeared as though they'd been purchased from a 70's thrift shop. The two men obliviously chattered away, incognizant of the predator in their midst.

The lawyer's lip curled with disdain at the tacky, tawdry portrait of a makeshift Vegas hustler the taller man presented in his second-rate garb. Kristoph had always looked down on the unfashionable as though they were sub-human – did Phoenix Wright even _own_ anything other than that ratty, hooded sweatshirt and shoddy jogging pants he _insisted_ on _constantly_ wearing?!

However, despite being adorned in apparel that was greatly altered from his customary magician's ensemble, the defense attorney would have recognized the unforgettable mug of Zak Gramarye _a_ _mile away._

On his face, the blond man wore sunglasses, but not the typical, trendy kind the residents of sunny Southern California normally wore, and which very few would currently be wearing, as it was now very late evening. No, these were more like something one would expect on the face of an astronaut, as they were utterly shiny, dark silver, and seamless. They simply wrapped around his face from one side to another, perfect, as if only ever touched by a gloved hand. And like all shades, they hid the part of his face which he had always found easiest to read on others so that anyone who would've happened to see him could have only taken note of his mouth, posture, and his proprietary sense of personal space.

He was watching the exchange between the two men from his unseen and hidden post outside a coffee bar. The shadows and distance he needed to maintain made his job harder, surely, but as practiced as he was by now in such espionage, he had no problem whatsoever gathering enough Intel while looking engrossed in his newspaper.

At last, Brushel and Zak parted ways, and almost in the same manner he had in the courtroom seven years ago, the former magician appeared to then vanish from Kristoph's sight.

_No matter. Zak can pull the disappearing act as much as he wants. He can_ _**run** _ _, but he can't_ _**hide** _ _! Not when his lanky little friend has constantly remained within my line of unwavering sight...much like he is now, the clueless_ _**Dummkopf** _ _that he is…_

As the newsman unmindful he drew nearer, Kristoph's expression was of one being pressed to endure an unpleasant redolence. His gaze was unwavering and unabashed as it followed the journalist, seeming as though it was focusing on something a couple of feet further away. Perhaps his naturally introspective nature led others to think he was merely engrossed in his own thoughts, despite all the while keeping an eagle eye observation of his surroundings. Regardless, he made no gesture of recognition, not even raising a hand or giving a nod as Brushel passed right by him, not even noticing Kristoph's presence.

_What a completely inferior human being. Even the dumbest of animals can sense the danger of a predator in their midst!_

The reporter quickened his pace to the street corner and melted into the Los Angeles sidewalk crowds.

A smug smile tugged at the lawyer's lips. _Soon_. It would be _very soon_.

_No one can keep dashing and dodging for eternity. Eventually, they all have to stop and take a rest. And it's_ _**long overdue** _ _for me to ensure that Zak Gramarye, at last, has his_ _**eternal** _ _rest…_

* * *

_**Later that evening…** _

It was the perfect strategy. Kristoph had been methodically perfecting it for years, although Justice was smarter than he had initially anticipated. His spiky-fringed understudy was keenly self-assertive and perceptive when least expected, so while he was loath to admit it, he knew that his protégé would somehow figure it all out if he wasn't careful.

_The deck has been stacked in my favor for some time now. Now I just await the fool Joker, who knows that_ _**I'm** _ _the one who commissioned that forged diary page, to make his appearance at last. Shadi Enigmar has been a missing person for almost seven years now and will be declared legally dead on April 19th. He_ _**must** _ _come out of hiding before that, otherwise, he loses the rights to any assets which he undoubtedly would want to bequeath to his only child. And when he does,_ _**he dies.** _ _Consequently, Wright goes under further scrutiny, and Apollo's drive for the truth will serve as the perfect catalyst. It's perfect. I, of course, will take my "friend's" case, but as that degenerate's "guilt" becomes apparent, Apollo's conscience will triumph and he'll intervene. Phoenix Wright spends the rest of his worthless life rotting in jail before getting sent to the gallows, Justice gets the credit, and I can use the entire affair as leverage over Justice's_ _**every move** _ _._

The past seven years of knowing each player's every move had been what had finally allowed the German to reach this moment of _turnabout triumph_. And right on schedule, Zak had shown up, just like Kristoph had always known he would.

His gloating smile faded then as he jabbed at the numbers on his phone.

"This is Spark Brushel! Always in the loop to get the scoop!"

"Is that _seriously_ how you answer your phone, Brushel?" Kristoph's tone was dripping with scorn. "You sound ridiculous!"

"D – Do I know you?" The nerve-gratingly upbeat tenor suddenly sounded spooked. "Who is this? H – How did you get my number?"

"That matter is not of importance at the moment. As you so absurdly boast with your greeting, you're the man who always has the alleged scoop. Ergo, I'm going to make you now _put your money,_ _where your mouth is_."

"A – A journalist is always on the hunt for a new scoop, S – Sir!" The reporter stammered nervously. "How can I …help you?"

"Where can I find Zak Gramarye?" Kristoph demanded harshly. "And I know _much more_ than merely your _phone number,_ Brushel, so don't even _think_ about wasting my time with mendacities."

"News-hungry journalist confused by bizarre query of the secretive caller. End quote."

"I _know_ you're not as doltish as you look, you _four-eyed weasel_ , so don't even _think_ of trying to play the phlegmatic ignoramus card with me." His voice was pure ice. "I've been watching _your every move_ for the last seven years and rest assured, I am _not_ a man who takes _kindly_ to those who _purposely_ _double-cross me_."

"Reporter has no earthly idea of what unknown voice is talking about!" Brushel cried. "Will state on record that he has not seen _any man_ bearing that name since he vanished! E- End quote!" With those as his final words, the shaken man abruptly ended the call, leaving Kristoph _beyond_ livid.

Slamming down the receiver with disgust, the defense attorney refused to be discouraged. He could _still_ put his intended motions into play, regardless of the reporter's lack of cooperation. After all, there was only _one other man_ besides the nuisance of a newsman who Zak would need to see before his deadline, and unfortunately for the man on the run, Kristoph was very, _very_ acquainted with _how and where_ to find him.

He was whistling cheerfully to himself as he grabbed his car keys. It was quite a familiar song to him by now, sung by his favorite band from the 1980s, The Police.

 _I think it's about time I reiterated my_ _ **still yet to be fulfilled**_ _request by my favorite pianist._ A sinister grin crept over his angular features. _It only seems_ _ **fitting**_ _, after all…_

* * *

 _ **Kristoph Gavin and Phoenix Wright  
**_ _The Borscht Bowl Club  
_ April 17, 2026, 11:30 PM

Kristoph was chuckling inwardly as he looked around the frozen hell-hole where his enemy was forced to make a living. Regardless of what day of the week it was, the bar always seemed to have the same folks, sitting in the same spots, even though he spotted a few anxious new faces, who undoubtedly were unfamiliar with the tavern's card-playing schedule, and the fact that since there wouldn't be another poker tournament until the following week, would therefore be soon leaving in disappointment upon discovery that there'd be no opportunity to feed their burning gambling addiction since there is no poker match set for that night.

Well, not the _scheduled_ kind, anyway.

Without a doubt, Kristoph knew just _who_ would get to play Phoenix Wright's _final poker game_ , thus he'd need to ensure he made tracks as soon as he spotted the wandering traveler, who was sure to make his grand entrance soon enough.

Phoenix felt as though he were a condemned man, with no visible reprieve in near sight.

Ever since the breakup with Maya, he had been excruciatingly enduring what had now become weekly drop-ins at the bar with Kristoph Gavin, who came nearly every Thursday, without fail, to visit with him during his break. It was as though his nemesis now wanted to confirm Phoenix's unadulterated misery, ever since the day Kristoph had all but threatened Maya, and prompted him to sever all ties with her. Since then, Kristoph's "social calls" at the tavern had become increasingly frequent, as though the defense attorney gained _personal perverse pleasure_ from the reassurance that the deadened indigo eyes were now genuine, seeing as how the sole other light in his life had been extinguished.

 _Twice_ , that night _alone_ , Kristoph had gleefully mentioned the subject of Maya's upcoming nuptials, now only two months away, to the hair tycoon, then scrutinized Phoenix's well-practiced aloof visage for a reaction, seeming slightly chagrined when he found none.

Meanwhile, the spiky-haired man had been silently thanking all that was holy for the validation that he had indeed, made the right decision when he'd broken up with the Kurain Master.

Because of this necessitous, _gut-wrenching_ move, Maya Fey was now nothing but a conversation topic the sadistic German used to rub salt into Phoenix's wounds, yet no longer a perceived targeted threat.

Usually, very shortly after The Last Supper (or so each meal in his company felt like) Kristoph tended to then remove his ominous presence, and the pianist finally allowed himself to breathe once more, restoring order to his poor nerves, which were always to the point of being irreparably shot whenever the blond man was around.

Unfortunately, tonight was different. Despite having dined with him just over half an hour ago now, Kristoph had persevered in remaining at the bar and had even relentlessly insisted that Phoenix perform "Every Breath You Take" by The Police, despite his protests that he didn't know the song well enough to play it convincingly.

"Just _bluff_ your way through it then, _Herr_ Wright." Kristoph sneered. "Surely _that_ would be something you'd be _accustomed_ _to_ at this point? After all, it's not _that_ busy of a night, so there's only a _small handful_ of _inebriated patrons_ you would need to distract with that _songbird voice_ of yours when you _sing_ the lyrics, which I'm positive a man of your _extended musical repertoire_ would be familiar with."

Phoenix was in no mood whatsoever to sing, as he had scarcely done so since his soul-baring performance of "Shape of My Heart," on New Year's Day, which, ironically, was also a song by Sting, Kristoph's requested band's lead vocalist.

Nonetheless, after his second protest, he thought the better of it and decided to play the eerie tune, as it allowed him to finally break away from the table and put some distance between himself and the shark-eyed defense attorney's unwavering, feral stare.

"I'm surprised you decided to extend your visit when it's already so late, Kristoph," he offered warily as he pushed his chair back from the table and reluctantly headed towards the piano. "Considering it's a work night and all…"

A spine-chilling grin in response. "Time flies when I am having fun I suppose. I am thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of your company _Herr_ Wright, and besides, I needed to take a break from my work and hadn't had dinner yet. But what is a meal without a little after dinner music?"

 _If I didn't know better I would think he was purposely lingering around like a fetid stench of flatus,_ the disbarred defense attorney thought to himself. _I stopped trying to understand the methods to Kristoph's madness a long time ago, and have just readily accepted my fate of perishing within these frozen walls for the rest of my days, with only my pretentious, counterfeit friend as my sole company._

It was these depressing thoughts that made Phoenix sing the clumsily-played song with unintentional fervor.

* * *

_**Every move you make  
Every vow you break  
Every smile you fake  
Every claim you stake  
I'll be watching you** _

* * *

_**Every move you make** _   
_**Every step you take** _

* * *

  
_**I'll be watching you** _

* * *

_**I'll be watching you** _

* * *

_**(Every breath you take** _   
_**Every move you make** _   
_**Every bond you break)** _

* * *

_**I'll be watching you** _

* * *

_**(Every single day** _   
_**Every word you say** _   
_**Every game you play)** _

* * *

_**I'll be watching you** _

* * *

_**(Every move you make** _   
_**Every vow you break** _   
_**Every smile you fake)** _

* * *

_**I'll be watching you** _

* * *

_**(Every single day** _   
_**Every word you say) Ooh** _   
_**(Every claim you stake)** _

* * *

_**I'll be watching you** _

* * *

The spectacled man applauded loudly when Phoenix was done singing the _world's creepiest stalker song_ , as did the small handful of other customers in the tavern, much to his irritation and embarrassment.

"Bravo, _Herr_ Wright," Kristoph enthused with an oily grin. " _Bravo_! That was well worth the _long wait_ after all my repeated requests for it! Did I not _tell_ you that voice of yours would distract from the fact that it sounded like you were playing something along the lines of "Mary had a Little Lamb" for the most part?"

Stifling a nasty retort, Phoenix bit down so hard on his lower lip, he nearly tasted blood. He instead affixed his most ersatz smile in reaction to the jibe.

"You're _too kind_ , Kristoph," he replied through gritted teeth. "Now, I think I'll stick with melodies with which I am more acquainted for the next few hours if that's alright with you."

"Quite alright indeed! You have appeased me already, so I shall no longer interfere with whatever you intend to regale our ears with for the rest of the night!"

"Mighty big of you." Feeling agitated, but refusing to give his adversary the satisfaction of seeing as such, Phoenix began to clink out a less melodious, but much more well-known, show tune refrain.

"By the way, I was hoping I would see Trucy tonight," Kristoph remarked casually. He had been prepared for a sickeningly sweet family reunion, but this worked out just as well. No excess eyewitnesses that he needed to worry about eliminating. He'd only spared the teenager all this time as _she_ was the lure to bring Zak back to town, and had anything happened to her before then, the intended events of this evening would never take place. "I know tonight isn't a poker night but does she not often pop by to see her Daddy sometimes after finishing work at The Wonder Bar?"

Phoenix cringed inwardly at how in that short sentence, it had been conveyed that the dangerous man sitting in his usual spot right by the piano knew not only the schedule of the bar but _that of his daughter_ , as well.

"Trucy was instructed to go straight home after work tonight." He said tersely. "She's got midterms coming up, so whatever free time she has is spent hitting the books. I need to ensure that my little girl needs to work twice as hard as everybody else, being a working student, as she has less study time than other kids.

"You're such a _good_ Daddy," Kristoph commented, with such phony sweetness that Phoenix felt positively _ill_.

"Thanks, I try," he muttered, sharply shifting his focus back to the piano, clearly that the conversation regarding his daughter was _now over_.

A few moments passed and Phoenix couldn't help but note that the disingenuous blond had gone several moments without attempting further banal dialogue, and briefly swung his gaze over towards the table, to see that Kristoph's pale blue eyes were now constricted into nearly visible slits.

 _I just saw the_ _ **Saukerl!**_ _He finally had the nerve to show his face!_ The German was seeing red as outside the window, he spotted the man who had _dared_ _**spurn him**_ for the _hobo bum pianist_ seated only five feet away from his table, nearly a decade ago. _There is no way_ _ **in hell**_ _he will be escaping again!_

Hastily, he threw his napkin down the table and shoved his chair back, unaware that his clenched hand around his wineglass made the disturbing skull image on the back of it all the more prominent.

"Leaving so soon, Kristoph?" The pianist asked with feigned interest as he tried not to exhale in relief. "You _did_ say my playing wasn't _that_ bad, after all?"

"Yes, I'll be taking my leave now." Kristoph wasn't even looking at anything but his target as he ground out his words. "Still have some work to do back at the office, which I have left unattended for far too long. I made Justice finish some paperwork, and I need to file it tonight."

"Then I guess I'll go back to my piano." Phoenix ensured he kept his poker-face intact as he shrugged in response, even though inwardly, he was loudly cheering upon hearing this.

"To be honest, it's better when you _aren't_ playing." Keeping Zak within his peripheral vision the entire time, Kristoph couldn't resist one final parting shot. "This frigid culinary dungeon almost feels… comfortable."

"Say _what?"_ The latter observation sounded so uncharacteristically _random_ that Phoenix stopped tickling the ivories, mid-song.

" _Gute Nacht!"_ Kristoph hissed, then dashed off to follow Zak.

Shrugging, the hobo smiled and waved goodbye as _the bane of his existence_ quickly dashed out of there _like a bat out of hell,_ in a sudden, questionable rush to immerse himself in inundating legal paperwork.

Grateful for the late hour, as it was best that as few people saw him as possible that night, the agitated attorney expeditiously exited the club, but not before making brief eye contact with Zak Gramarye, who'd been about to enter. For a split second, Kristoph was sure he saw a flicker of recognition on the white-suited man's face, but before the former magician could speak, the German swept right past him.

Blinking with surprise, Zak shook his head, as though uncertain of what he had just seen, and speedily entered the establishment. Kristoph stealthily crept over to the side window and watched as the ex-performer made a beeline towards the unsuspecting Phoenix, who was still _making noise pollution_ at the piano.

It was all going _exactly_ as _arranged._

_**Seven years** _ _in the making._ _**Seven years** _ _of patiently watching and waiting, all about to pay off, as it shall be_ _**me** _ _, not_ _**you** _ _, Phoenix Wright, who hails their triumphant victory as the ultimate_ _**"Master Baiter!"** _

He was cackling softly to himself as he crept back into the restaurant and down the secret passage to The Hydeout.

_The time has come. This is the final "_ _**Bloodbath."** _

* * *

_**Phoenix Wright and Zak Gramarye  
**_ _The Borscht Bowl Club  
_ April 17, 2026, 12:00 AM

Phoenix sighed as he pushed away his mostly untouched meal.

_Two hours left in my shift. I wonder if we'll get any customers tonight? I doubt it though; we aren't supposed to have any poker tournaments until next Thursday – unless someone decides to surprise me._

Without thinking, he listlessly clanged at a few keys on the piano in the room, wondering if the few remaining customers in the bar would notice if he recycled the short but simple tune from the _Flintstones_ theme song.

"Ahem," a deep voice suddenly said from behind him. "Do you know who I am?"

Phoenix turned around and cocked an eyebrow at the brawny, goateed man, clad in a white _pimp_ polyester suit, with matching Deadman Top Hat.

 _"Who I Am?_ No… I am a man of a very limited repertoire which mostly consists of show tunes snippets. But if you _hum_ it, I can _play_ it!" He quirked a half-smile at the unsmiling stranger. "Just kidding. I don't do requests."

"How about a different sort of request?" The man countered. "You see… I play cards."

"Oh…a customer."

_**That** _ _kind of customer. Thanks for warning me, Boris! Trucy's not with me, because she knows there wasn't anything scheduled tonight…and this guy looks_ _**shady** _ _. No matter, I'm sure my own acquired poker skills will suffice._

He plastered on a faux amiable smile.

"I was _just_ hoping someone would come in and save me from a night at the keys."

"I think a true competition. I have heard The Borscht Bowl Club is the place for this. Now I see the rumor is true."

That was when the DILF suddenly noticed the creepy-looking, bespectacled newsman, whose gawky frame had initially been obscured by the taller, muscular stranger. Presently, he was sitting off to the side, scribbling away on a notepad, paying the pair little attention and studiously ignoring them both.

"And _this_ is…? A friend of yours?"

"Don't mind me!" The scrawny geek with the sparse brush-cut squawked, flashing a toothy grin, which exposed an impressive set of pearly whites, giving him the appearance of an actor auditioning for a Colgate toothpaste commercial. "I'm just your friendly neighborhood newsman!"

"He will not be playing tonight," the stranger informed Phoenix. "When his business is finished, I shall send him home." He placed his hands on his hips and beamed arrogantly. "This competition will be between _us_. No others."

Phoenix raised his head and caught sight of Boris across the room, shooting him an inquisitive glance. The Russian man nodded his silent consent and went back to chatting with his cronies in the corner.

"They told me I would find you here. Don't worry about returning to your piano. It took a little _persuasion_ , but Boris had zero qualms with turning the last couple of hours of your shift into an impromptu poker tournament."

_Well, Boris_ _**is** _ _the boss. Or so Natasha lets him believe anyway._

The card shark mentally shrugged.

"I'll take you to the room."

"The Hydeout, yes." The man treated him to a toothy grin, which for some reason gave Phoenix the feeling of repulsion and _déjà vu_ simultaneously. "But before we go… Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Shadi Smith."

"Oh, and I'm Brushel!" Chimed in the seated pipsqueak, who reeked of fresh mint tooth cleaner. "Spark Brushel! News reporter."

 _Charmed, I'm sure_ , the ex-attorney thought with cheerless amusement, then adjusted his beanie and inclined his head towards the men to follow him as he turned towards the dimly lit stairwell, casting an offhand glimpse over his shoulder. "By the way, I'm…"

" _No_ , Phoenix Wright!" The stranger's booming voice rose with disapproval, making the hairs on the back of the hobo's neck stand on end as he pondered how this new, enigmatic challenger happened to be aware of his identity. "You must _always_ look a man _in the eye_ when you make your introductions." He beamed smugly at the pianist's thunderstruck expression. "You _still_ do not know who I am?"

The poker champ's searching eyes roved over the harsh lines on that now deviously smiling mien.

"Have we…met?" The words were barely left his mouth when suddenly the realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He stared, utterly bug-eyed, at the person in front of him, the echoes of the long-ago trial still ringing in his head. " _Z... Zak Gramarye_!?"

The words came out in whispered awe.

"Yes," the man replied with a nod, looking quite proud of himself as he was finally recognized. "The reincarnation act of the century. Pity I have only an audience of one."

_This_ _**has** _ _to be a bad dream. In a sense, this guy ruined my life, after all... And... What about Trucy?_

Surveying the room, Zak noticed the petite blonde standing near the bar and ordered her to prepare The Hydeout. The spiky-haired man recognized her as Olga Orly, a waitress he hadn't seen much of since he had first been hired, as she normally worked in the daytime, and hence, he didn't come across too often. Nodding in compliance to the command, she meekly agreed and scurried off without another word. Phoenix supposed he couldn't blame her; Zak was quite the imposing figure indeed, even as a _resurrected ghost!_

"It's _really_ you?" He whispered incredulously the moment the waitress was out of sight. "Zak Gramarye?"

"Now I am Shadi Smith," Zak corrected. "Remember this."

Phoenix released a long, shaky breath and shook his head in wonder.

"How many years has it been now? Six?"

_For me, every day has felt like it's been on auto replay, a repeat of the one before it, just like in the movie_ _**Groundhog Day,** _ _ever since I lost my badge._ _**That** _ _would be why I wasn't keeping track of the anniversary date of that fateful trial because if I had I wouldn't have had the rug pulled out from under me like this!_

"In exactly three days from now, it will be seven," Zak murmured, a flicker of regret crossing his features. "I have caused you much inconvenience, I fear."

 _Gee, you_ _ **think**_ _?!_ It took all of the anterior lawyer's self-control must not to haul off and deck the blasted sonofabitch right in the kisser.

"Yeah," he muttered darkly. "You could say that."

"Is... she well?" The ex-magician asked hesitantly. "Trucy, I mean."

 _You gave up the right to ask about her seven years ago you selfish bastard!_ It was the response Phoenix _longed_ to give, but miraculously, held his tongue and steeled his jaw.

"She's fine," he retorted gruffly, thinking that was still more information than his daughter's worthless sire _deserved_ to know. If the douchebag wanted to see proof of the claim, he could damn well go see Trucy _himself!_ "I've got her working already. Hope you don't mind."

"I hardly need to express my gratitude, but you have it." Zak smiled faintly. "This is why I have come." A predatory expression came over his face then, along with a noticeable glint in his eye that Phoenix was all too accustomed to. He had seen that grim determination in the eyes of potential challengers' countless times over the years; that smarmy arrogance of a gambler who believed he was _la_ _crème de la crème_ of the game and was a surefire winner, who couldn't fathom the concept of losing. "That, and to settle a matter of cards."

"By which you mean poker." Phoenix's face and tone were tranquil, even as a feeling of caginess began to creep over him, as unfortunately, he was more heedful than he cared to admit at handling competitors who approached him with _that_ in their eyes.

* * *

" _Deal."_

_The routine never changed. Each day was the same shit, different pile._

_The same actions, same moves, same dark and cold environment of the underground club room. Still, it was warmer here than it was upstairs, at least, that was what others told him. For him, it didn't make a difference. It was always cold wherever he went; but unlike the bar clientele who would drink to warm up, his only vice was grape juice._

_The customers were different, sometimes, but the sight of their smug, condescending smirks was constant; the smell of their odorous perspiration, greed, and desperation for glory unwavering. He supposed he liked that. Not really the competition, rather the predictability. Things had been changing so rapidly in his life, he appreciated the garden-variety routine, a welcome reprieve from the same nightmare of different faces he woke up to each and every day for the past seven years._

_He got such a kick out of the presumptuous victor's arrogant flourish of throwing their cards down and crying: "Hah! Full house. Looks like your luck's finally run out."_

_… Or something to that variation._

" _Sorry." With a tip of his beanie and a well-placed smirk, he would then show his own hand to their aghast faces. "Straight flush. Better luck next time, Sir."_

_There would be a moment of befuddled silence; the regular dealer would contain her knowing giggles behind a pair of smirking, brightly painted lips; then, the accusations would start flying as the incensed losing player would morph into a frothing mouth, potty-mouthed, klazomaniac and let the fur fly._

" _Inconceivable!"_

" _Swindler!"_

" _Fakir!"_

" _Charlatan!"_

" _Scammer!"_

" _Card Shark!"_

" _Con Artist!"_

" _Crook!"_

_It was usually a combination and minor variation of flung insults. They were among the_ _**kinder** _ _slurs that the infuriated losers of the game would bellow at the constantly amused poker champion.  
_   
_This would then be followed by the demand to bodily search him. Phoenix would always willingly raise his arms while the infuriated customer rummaged over him: his hoodie, inside his pockets, under his beanie._

_Each time he indulged them, the unassuming, smug never budging from his phizog, which only made them madder._

_From his position as the victor solely on the poker table but the underdog in life, this was his true triumph - the blow it brought to their egos. It brought them immense shame and frustration and it secretly gave him a rise knowing that he could turn the tables and humiliate them._

_Finally, begrudging acceptance would kick in, the customer would throw their money onto the table with a curse, and he'd straighten his clothes and collect his earnings for the night._

* * *

"I despise losing above all else," Zak went on. "And so, I have decided that I _will_ win tonight, _no matter what it takes_."

The diabolical smirk playing on the other man's thinly mustached lips was impossible to miss, and Phoenix's eyes narrowed as he guardedly assessed his opponent. This kind of arrogant confidence radiating from the man who claimed to be challenging only the _second_ person _in his entire life_ to whom he'd lost poker was both unsettling _and_ suspicious. It was the air of a man who had some sort of trick up his sleeve, except this time not of the _entertaining nor magical_ variety. Moreover, it was the aura of someone who didn't _give a rat's ass_ about the consequences. He had an intuitive hunch that there was a _definite correlation_ between Zak and the mysterious Five of Hearts he'd found in his pocket earlier.

Zak's expression suddenly shifted into one of utmost congeniality then. "Perhaps we should take this time to talk before we play. I know you have much to ask me... and I, you."

Not knowing where to begin, Phoenix first inquired about the photo of the beautiful woman in the locket Trucy had shown him. The picture was in a locket which she had kept hidden all these years, but revealed after seeing the portrait of Hera in Layton's package. She'd said the image was of was her mother, who was now "gone." It was a subject that the other man palpably did not care to delve into, curtly replying that Trucy's mother was indeed _gone_ and there was nothing else Phoenix needed to know.

In the next moment, in an effort to shush him, Zak then proceeded to sucker-punch the spindly journalist when he piped up that Trucy's mother had been Magnifi Gramarye's only daughter.

The violent outburst shocked and appalled the pianist, but it was too late to save the now winded newsman, who was clutching his abused midsection, and for the phony musician to let his nemesis know that Brushel had merely relayed information that he _already_ knew about! Not knowing what else to do, he decided to feign shock about the reporter's outburst and let out a gasp, the authenticity of it more from the witnessing of the spur-of-the-moment assault that had taken place rather than the actual news.

"He'll be fine. But he talks too much," the illusionist dismissed, feigning obliviousness to the pained gasps of Brushel. "The conversation of Trucy's mother is now closed. Next topic?"

_My long-awaited moment of jouska has finally arrived! After playing this hypothetical conversation in my head so many times over the years, I must make sure not to waste this opportunity to finally get the answers I've been seeking for the last seven years!_

Phoenix wracked his mind of where to begin.

"Perhaps it would be best to start from square one then," he finally ventured. "Go back to when we very first met? If memory serves me correctly, we competed that day, seven years ago, too?"

"Ah, yes." Zak smiled ruefully. "You must have been surprised! Called to the detention center out of the blue."

The hobo eyed him levelly.

"You choose your defense attorneys by playing poker." It was a statement, not a question.

Zak was the first to break eye contact and cast his gaze downward. "Some are hired, others fired. When you compete, you see a man's true nature." He looked back up at Phoenix and flashed a shit-eating grin then. "You know what I speak of. I _know_ that you do."

Immediately, Phoenix was aware that the other man was alluding to his daughter's uncanny, _built-in, lie-detector ability_. "Trucy's _power_?"

"Trucy?" The pride was evident in Zak's voice. "She is in a class of her own."

 _She_ _ **and**_ _Apollo._ The beanie wearer wisely kept this knowledge to himself. If there was one thing this whole debacle with his vanishing ex-client had taught him, it was to never let your opponent know about _the ace up your sleeve_ too early in the game. To his irritation, all Zak proceeded to relay to him after that was information he was already cognizant of, as well, confirming that said _otherworldly talent_ was indeed a genetic trait, but it wasn't something he "told lightly to outsiders" and nothing his one-time legist "needed to know about at this time."

Hidden in the deep pockets of his hoodie, Phoenix felt his hands clenching into furious fists even though he kept his outward expression unruffled as his mind recoiled with indignation.

 _Good thing I've already done my homework in_ _ **that**_ _regard!_ He fumed. _I became a father to that girl because of_ _ **your wayward ass**_ _! According to_ _ **you**_ _, how much more of a_ _ **need to know**_ _am I_ _ **required**_ _to be, you_ _ **duplicitous son of a bitch**_ _!_

Unaware of the poker champ's adverse reaction, it was Zak who swiftly brought up the next subject then. "She's... 15 now?"

Phoenix nodded, seeing no point in reminding him that his daughter's Sweet 16 birthday was three months away.

"She's still trying her best to follow in your footsteps, you know," he said flatly, wondering if this information would fill the former magician with pride…or pain.

"I... see." Zak had the decency to at least have some guilt register on his mug upon hearing this information. "When I planned my disappearing act, it was the thought of her alone that gave me pause."

The words were like a loud thunderclap in the otherwise silent room.

" _Wait_ …" Phoenix gaped in disbelief. "You were _planning_ on vanishing from the _get-go_? _Even_ if I'd managed to clear your name!?"

"Yes, and for that, I must apologize." The mustached man expelled a heavy sigh as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper which he handed to the still seething Phoenix, who accepted it gingerly. "However, I could not be found guilty that day... because of this."

The former attorney read the short-handwritten message on the front and looked up at Zak with confusion.

"A transferal of rights," the wanderer explained. "You see the signature?"

The handwritten contract officially passed on the "secrets, staging and performance" of Magnifi Gramarye's magic to "the recipient named below". Right beneath that, all in what Phoenix presumed was Magnifi's handwriting, was Zak's name, followed by Magnifi's signature. What caught Phoenix's attention most, however, was the fact that the left edge of the paper was torn down ... like the page had been pulled out of a book. Seeing the questioning look in his eyes, Trucy's biological father nodded and confirmed his suspicions.

"That damn scrap of paper lost me my attorney's badge!" This time the card shark could not hide the ferocious glare he directed at Zak. "You could have told me this earlier! Like, _seven years_ earlier!"

"Once again, I must apologize." The regret on Zak's face appeared genuine. "It was all I could do to prepare for my escape from that courtroom. The greatest of Magnifi Gramarye's illusions are true art. As such, they are well protected... by this document." He gestured with the handwritten contract in his hand. "Only its bearer may perform his illusions on stage."

Phoenix closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath to compose his frayed nerves, as he was pretty sure where this conversation was headed.

"As the rightful heir to his art, I, too, wanted a rightful heir." Zak flashed a crooked grin. "I'm sure you know who I chose as my successor."

"Trucy." Phoenix refused to refer to his little girl as "your daughter" to the other man. As far as he was concerned, Trucy had become _solely his_ from the moment this cowardly snake had plotted his great escape.

"That is why I have risked all to come here tonight," Zak affirmed, then turned to the quiet as a mouse newsman. "Brushel."

"Sir!" Now recovered from his injury, the reporter scampered over and pulled out a piece of paper, which he lay on the table between Zak and Phoenix, pulling the ball-point from behind his ear and holding it out to the pianist. "Here you go!"

Phoenix hesitantly took the pen. "What's this?"

"A letter passing the rights I have inherited to Trucy," Zak explained, leaning forward to tap the bottom of the paper, where lines had been drawn out for three signatures. "I would have you sign here, as a witness."

That was when it became evident why Brushel was present. Even though Phoenix was no longer a lawyer, the reporter was a certified notary and could provide the valid and necessary third signature on the legally binding document. It took only a minute for all three men to sign the document, officially passing Magnifi's tricks down to his granddaughter.

It also became clear that Shadi Smith was fully aware of the fact that after seven years of being missing a person was considered legally deceased and would lose all rights as a living person after that, along with their possessions, which was the reason Trucy's _sperm-donor_ – _Zak Gramarye was_ _ **not her father**_ _goddammit!_ – was now there.

"Well the prelude may have been longer than the attraction," Zak murmured as he placed down the pen. "Shall we begin our game?"

Another devilish leer.

"My final competition?"

 _"Final?"_ Phoenix echoed blankly. "Why?"

"I came out of hiding today to make this document legally binding. Once that is done, I shall slip once more underground."

Phoenix blinked; uncertain he had heard him correctly.

"…Without seeing…" He nearly gagged on the word. _"Your daughter?"_

This was a _new low_ , even for a _contemptuous slug_ such as Zak!

"It would be best if I did not." For a split second, _Daddy Dearest_ looked vulnerable. "Seven years ago, we played. Seven years ago, I lost." He cleared his throat then, and his voice hardened. "I already lost once to Magnifi. I do not care to lose to another. And I have heard that _you_ _never_ _lose._ "

"It's just a rumor," Phoenix lied quickly, the dread continuing to mount within him. "Don't believe everything you hear!"

"Yes…" The former illusionist seemed to like this answer and beamed widely. "For it is impossible to _never_ lose. Unless one has an ace up one's sleeve."

The steely glint in Zak's eye was downright alarming, and the uneasy feeling Phoenix had felt creeping up within him was now at maximum capacity.

"As the magician, it causes me no end of irritation." The affable smile was still in place, but the underlying intent was perceptible as a dark shadow crossed over Zak's face. "To think a mere lawyer might be out there, pulling the wool over so many eyes…"

The unnerving rubatosis kicked in, full throttle.

"Hey…" the amicable hobo tried to speak lightly, although his heart was now thumping erratically in his chest. "I just signed your document for you. Maybe you can try _lightening_ up?"

_Maybe I should volunteer to_ _**shove a light bulb up his ass** _ _?_

"For my final competition," Zak stated with an air of finality. "I will destroy your perfect record, Phoenix Wright! _This_ … Will be my final performance! Consider yourself warned!"

The ex-illusionist then told Brushel he was free to leave, and when the gangly reporter eagerly offered to stick around for the "scoop" of the former magician's final game, rather than verbally negate the request, Zak casually, without warning or second thought, flat out treated the annoying man to a sharp _uppercut_ across the chin, sending him sprawling to the ground!

Phoenix witnessed this with mounting horror, even as Brushel nervously spluttered that he would now be making his leave. The moment he left, Zak turned back around and unflinchingly brushed his knuckles against his suit jacket, as though trying to remove a pesky piece of lint.

"I punch and I punch," he shrugged. "But still, it is not enough."

Phoenix just stared at him speechlessly. _I am so glad my little girl did not inherit this alarmingly sociopathic and violent behavior streak!_

"I'm sure Brushel meant no harm," he finally managed to utter. "And he's obviously very loyal to you. Why can't you be nicer to him?"

Another shrug. "Nice is a mask angry people wear to hide their inner assholes."

Phoenix gulped at how callous the larger man was about the pain he caused to others, as well as his seemingly overall lack of humanity, realizing at that moment that for all the times _he'd_ been accused of being a poker shark, he was the one now actually dealing with a _cold-blooded shark…_ in _every_ way possible, and not only limited to the poker variety.

His stomach sank.

_I just_ _**know** _ _that this is_ _**not** _ _going to well…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christina Aguilera - Fighter


	123. Bloodbath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you know those times when you feel like  
> There's a sign there on your back  
> That says I don't mind if you kick me, seems like everybody has  
> Things go from bad to worse  
> You think it can't get worse than that  
> And then they do  
> You step off the straight and narrow  
> And you don't know where you are  
> Used the needle of your compass, to sew up your broken heart  
> Ask directions from a genie in a bottle of jim beam  
> And she lies to you  
> That's when you learn the truth  
> If you're goin' through hell keep on going  
> Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it  
> You might get out before the devil even knows you're there  
> I've been deep down in that darkness  
> I've been down to my last match  
> Felt a hundred different demons breathin' fire down my back  
> And I knew that if I stumbled I'd fall right into the trap  
> That they were layin'  
> But the good news is there's angels everywhere out on the street  
> Holdin' out a hand to pull you back up on your feet  
> The one's that you've been draggin' for so long  
> You're on your knees might as well be prayin'  
> Guess what I'm sayin'

_**Phoenix Wright and Zak Gramarye**_  
 _The Hydeout_  
April 17, 2026, 2:01 AM

When he had first started working at The Borscht Bowl Club, Phoenix had been grateful for the warmth of his tracksuit, although by now, he was accustomed to the Siberian atmosphere of the bar upstairs, where it was slightly colder than even the frigid temperature of the underground _Hydeout_. Regardless, it nonetheless took a few moments before the blissful numbness would kick in and the discomfort would be alleviated from his bare sandaled feet, which fortunately no longer turned blue from the cold.

That night, however, his body temperature was the last thing on his mind as he found himself reflecting on the additional material that he had extracted from the stern-faced competitor sitting across the table from him.

To Phoenix's great consternation, even after several hours of conversing, the wandering traveler had yet to divulge any groundbreaking information that Phoenix had not already ascertained for himself.

_All Zak has established is that he_ _**thinks** _ _he spotted Kristoph Gavin tonight, who_ _**may** _ _or_ _**may not** _ _have seen him as well. He has also confirmed that Thalassa, Trucy's mother, was allegedly killed in a stage rehearsal accident with a bullet gone wrong, from either Zak or Valant's pistols. Trucy, and as a result, Apollo, whom Zak admitted was a by-product of his wife's first marriage, which ended in her widowhood. Both children inherited their powers from the maternal side of the Gramarye family, and the irrefutable fact that they are indeed half-siblings has been officially confirmed. Zak also insists that his wife is dead, but this is something that has yet to be concretely established since the body was never found._

The hobo eyed Zak dubiously at that moment.

_And_ _**until** _ _it is, I_ _**cannot** _ _determine if this the true reality or not... After all, if anybody wants me to rationalize my skepticism about how being_ _**missing** _ _doesn't necessarily mean that person is_ _**dead** _ _, lo and behold,_ _I give you…_ _**Exhibit A** _ _: my present poker challenger!_ _**Father of the Year** _ _, in_ _**very real** _ _, **living flesh**_ _, seated_ _**not even a foot away** _ _!_

Just like back in 2019, it all came down to an all-in, final hand. And, just like seven years ago, Phoenix was winning, this time taking the game _a lot more seriously_ than he had back then! The odds were stacked in his favor presently, undefeated streak notwithstanding. After all, he was now a much more viable contender, skilled at pitting not only his poker hand but his _wits_ , this time around!

 _Currently cynical pianist_ versus _meandering_ _traveler_ , as opposed to _former_ _naïve attorney_ versus _crafty illusionist_!

"Showdown time."

Perfected poker-faces intact, both men tossed down their hands onto the table at that precise, same second.

_Ta-Da!_

The existing smirk on Olga's crimson lips abruptly dissolved as they then parted into a startled gasp.

"Impossible!" She cried. "How can there be _two_ _full houses_ … But one hand has _two aces_ and the other has _three_ … _?!_ "

The poker champ shook his head in dismay. He wished he could have been more taken aback but he just _wasn't_. If there was _one_ thing he had learned in _this racket_ , it was to _expect the unexpected_.

The defeated Zak's lips curled into a ferocious snarl of malcontent, identical to the countless ones Phoenix had seen with all of his losing opposition. He bit back a smirk as the burly man shot up from his seat and stormed around the table towards him.

"You dirty _cheat_!" Zak raged, waving his arms dramatically. "Check his pockets now!" He commanded Olga, nostrils flaring and eyes wild.

It was like déjà vu with every other subjugated card player the DILF had ever encountered, so he knew the drill. He obligingly already had his arms up in the air as Olga's rapid-fire fingers roamed over him, searching every fold and pocket in his garments. At last, she halted in the process of fishing around in the nearly indiscernible side pockets of the card shark's black track pants, and bewildered expression came into her widened eyes. Alarmed now, she then agitatedly dug around in his hoodie right afterward, before looking up at Zak and shrugging helplessly.

Phoenix bit back a knowing grin as the white-suited man glared at her.

"What the _hell_ are you doing, woman?" He snapped peevishly. "What's going on here?"

"It-It's _gone_!" Olga gulped, flushing guiltily as her round eyes swiveled back and forth between the two men. _"The card is gone!"_

"What the _fuck_ do you mean _it's gone_?" Her partner in crime roared, roughly shoving her aside and committing his own body search on the card game-winner, who didn't move a muscle, remaining unstirring and, miraculously, _straight-faced_ the entire time.

Zak's eyes shot daggers at the now trembling Olga before turning to the deadpan poker champion, getting right up in his face, looking like a man possessed. " _What did you_ _ **do**_ _!?"_

Phoenix neither blinked nor flinched as he uttered the repeated standard line he had been reciting for seven years.

"You lose."

Tearing his enraged mug away from the victor's, Zak then unleashed his wrath on the petrified-looking blonde, who was quivering from head to toe.

" _You!"_ He thundered; his visage twisted into a grotesque scowl of rage. "You _stupid, worthless bitch!_ Some ' _Quick-Fingered'_ con artist _you_ turned out to be!"

The next chain of events occurred at such a break-neck pace, the former lawyer wasn't unable to do anything to stop it in time, because absolutely _nothing_ he had _ever_ encountered _in all his years of poker_ could have prepared him for what happened next.

In a mindless fit of rage, Zak grabbed the glass grape juice bottle that had been next to Phoenix's cards atop the table, sending the red deck of cards flying, and advanced upon the frightened young woman, who had nowhere to run in that tiny, subversive room, and instinctively began retreating away, only to find herself backed up against a wall as Zak ominously waved the heavy beverage container in his hand as he drew nearer. Olga let out a strangled screamed as she tried to dash out of the room, only to slip on the glossy, scattered cards that had fallen to the ground, sending her sprawling to the floor.

Before the ex-attorney could react, the dealer let out one final, terrorized shriek as the madman brandished the bottle threateningly above Olga's head, before slamming the makeshift weapon down onto her skull, creating a sickening, cracking sound, which echoed loudly in the silent room, rendering the young woman immediately unconscious.

Phoenix startled like a deer in the woods, almost toppling as he took a large step backward. He shouldn't have been as poleaxed as he was at the impromptu burst of viciousness, seeing as how the large man had been relentlessly pummeling the admittedly annoying reporter earlier that night, but _this_ was something in _a different league_ altogether! _This_ had been a senseless act of savagery towards a helpless woman, and had seemed more _animalistic_ than actually _human_! He stared in horrified incredulity at the now panting and sweating Zak Gramarye, whose rage seemed to have subsided by then, and was now staring down in shock at the supine card dealer, as though _he_ even couldn't believe what he had done.

"What... Why did you do that!?" The pianist rasped as the now heaving former magician leaned heavily against the table. Although Phoenix didn't see any visible signs of bleeding, a quick, downward gander at Olga was unable to tell if she was even breathing, and he knew she was going to be medical attention right away. Unfortunately, they were in an _underground_ _cellar_ room, otherwise known as _a frozen variation of hell_ with absolutely zero cell phone reception!

The rage monkey couldn't even reply, his unblinking orbs the size of saucers as his tanned face became thoroughly ashen.

 _Goddammit!_ Phoenix's widened with panic. _Is he going into_ _ **shock**_ _?! What am I going to do?!_

"Wait here!" He anxiously advised the dumbstruck Zak. "I'll get help!"

The ex-magician simply nodded dazedly and flopped back down into his chair as the pianist whizzed up the stairs towards the restaurant, taking the steps two a time in his haste, as his mind frenetically tried to come up with the best solution for this unanticipated _, unmitigated catastrophe_!

Zak was clearly more of a temperamental and unpredictable loose cannon than the pianist ever could have imagined, and he wasn't sure if an ordinary pair of paramedics would be the right party to get involved with such an unstable creature. Moreover, he wasn't confident that the ambulance attendants would be properly trained to handle any sudden moves the _deranged lunatic_ might make while within the reachable vicinity of that _dangerous juice bottle!_ That very same glass container also just happened to contain the card he and his co-conspirator had indubitably planted in Phoenix's pocket, not expecting that he'd have found it in time.

_Yeesh, it appears all the years of jabbing my hands into my pockets and clutching my magatama when being around Kristoph was what ultimately saved my skin in the end!_

Quickly weighing his options, he decided that the police were probably his best bet. He spoke rapidly during the call, succinctly urging the cops to arrive as speedily as possible, not thinking that he had time to give additional particulars at that moment, but figuring he could provide them with the finer points of the occurrence when they arrived.

Like many other incidences in his life, this was a decision Phoenix would come to regret later.

However, at the time, it never occurred to shift his single focus on anything other than the grievously battered Olga and do whatever he could to rescue her from a potentially life-threatening injury.

After all, on that fateful night of April 17, 2026, how could the one-time King of the Turnabout have _possibly_ foreseen _the greatest looming threat of all_ looming within the confines of the dank, underground room? How could he have _ever_ prophesized that _the biggest danger_ yet to come, would ultimately _not_ wind up being at the hands of Zak Gramarye himself?

* * *

 _ **Shadi Enigmar  
**_ _The Hydeout  
_ April 17, 2026, 2:08 AM

Nobody had been more shocked by his crazed actions that night than Shadi Enigmar himself. The ex-illusionist had always been a man of rash actions; an act first, think later sort, but while he'd occasionally opted to use his fists, rather than his words, in the past, he had never before physically struck a woman in his entire life. Nevertheless, what was hardly unfathomable was the fact that it'd been the _devil's temptation_ which had driven him to such madness, as poker had long since been his foremost passion in life, taking precedence above all else.

It would be problematic to discover what his friends thought of his obsession because he never stayed in one place long enough to make any, but the people he'd played against even could have easily confirmed his unwavering sense of pride about it. People did not know about Shadi's past, about where he'd come from, if he had any family, or even what his real name was – because surely it couldn't be Shadi Smith. However, what they quickly did learn was his passionate love of poker. Almost any back-alley club in the country that endorsed the game could have attested to that.

His poker addiction was such that he cared for absolutely nothing else in the world. Everything he'd once held dear fell by the wayside, his family, his friends, and his career. He would lie, cheat, and steal for it. He became someone else, someone that was now unrecognizable, even to himself.

Someone to be feared.

Even though Magnifi had been the one to introduce him to the game, Shadi's yen for it had surpassed even his mentor's. Thalassa had never understood it either, his gaming compulsion. One time she'd even asked him to explain the allure to her, to understand his compulsion. He'd beheld that beautiful face with his fierce gaze and said:

_"Imagine a rat gnawing on your living flesh. Now imagine you had a magic stick to poke that rat away within your hand, and if you poked that rat you would be filled with the most glorious feeling of contentment and warmth. Imagine using that stick would bring you to a level of happiness you had never achieved before, a personal nirvana that you never wanted to leave. Now imagine you are told not to use that stick and to let the rat keep on gnawing. That's my addiction, that's why all these therapies and groups will never work. You can detox me all you want but that rat is going to come back one day and when it does, I'm going to be reaching for my magic stick. Nothing will stop me"._

It was this very addiction that had consummately consumed the remains of Shadi's soul, fully obliterating the loving husband and father he'd once been. That man was dead and gone and replaced by one that Shadi, on some unconscious level, semi-ruefully acknowledged was beyond redemption.

This man, rather than see his only daughter one last time, the very one that he had shamelessly abandoned, had allowed himself to instead become irrevocably intoxicated by the alluring game of chance. He had given greater priority to the pursuit of the unequivocal adrenaline rush he'd get from this final opportunity to go against all odds, and finally triumph over the _one living man_ he'd been unable to conquer in the game of poker.

It was entirely inconsequential to him that doing so would entail ruining said undefeated champion's poker standing by indicting him for cheating, annihilating both his reputation and unbeaten streak. Shadi hadn't even been phased in the least when he had discovered that said man was Phoenix Wright, whose life he had already unwittingly destroyed, and had nevertheless been taking care of his daughter all these years.

Shadi hadn't given a second thought to the ramifications of his scheming, underhanded tactics. Nor had he given a damn knowing that breaking Phoenix's winning streak and thus causing the loss of his very livelihood, the man would lose not only the novelty of his undefeated poker champion reputation, but also his job, and consequently, both he and Trucy would then be plunged into financial crisis.

None of these concepts were paid any mind whatsoever because _all_ he cared about was _winning_. It was inconsequential to him that Phoenix Wright and this undefeated, fabled poker champion were _one and the same_ ; couldn't even claim that he hadn't known who the man was when he had set eyes upon the ex-attorney seven years later.

Yes, the scruffy-looking man was barely recognizable at present, with his slouched-over posture and dark stubble, his trademark spikes hidden now by that beanie. The blue suit was gone, and his hands were constantly buried in the pockets of a fuzzy sweatshirt of muted color, which looked like it desperately needed a good wash or perhaps had already seen too many washes. Nonetheless, Shadi had immediately recognized him at first sight.

The spiky-haired man was the very one whom Shadi had entrusted his daughter with, proving there was no such thing as an unbeatable poker champion was still _first_ on his priorities list. However, poker was a passion that fueled his adrenaline rush, fired his blood; it was like a thirst that could never be quenched. It might even end up killing him one of these days, but he wasn't to know that.

 _All_ Shadi _knew_ was that he _would_ expose Phoenix Wright as a cheating fraud if it was _the last thing he'd do_!

The foreboding gaze of a bespectacled man lurking within the shadows prophesized that indeed, it very well would be...

* * *

 _ **Kristoph Gavin  
**_ _The Hydeout  
_ April 17, 2026, 2:08 AM

Kristoph had followed his target all the way to the underground room where the iniquitous regulars of The Borscht Bowl Club had come for criminal purposes. He knew he could not hope to enter the room from the main entrance without being seen, so he'd circled and hid in himself within the secret passageway that lay behind the bookshelf. There was a slight crevice in the mantelpiece which allowed him to observe Zak Gramarye and the events unfolding within The Hydeout without detection.

A petite blond woman, whom the blond didn't recognize, was the dealer. He silently observed the intense concentration on the faces of both the players, neither of them speaking, just intently staring at the cards in their hands. He noted Phoenix guzzling down his umpteenth grape juice, then set down the drained bottle, which had contained the pianist's beloved beverage of choice, but now only bore his fingerprints. The German leered to himself as he donned on his gloves, ready to pounce when the time was right.

"Showdown time."

Both men revealed their hands, and the dealer began squawking some sort of gibberish as first she, then Zak, began subjecting Phoenix to a police-style, full-body pat-down, but found _nothing!_

The next thing Kristoph knew, his betrayer flew into a rage, screeching first at the dealer, then at his opponent, who remained as cool as a cucumber. Within the blink of an eye, the incensed fugitive then clubbed the young woman over the head with the juice bottle, knocking her out cold. A second later, the rattled Phoenix scooted up the stairs.

Concealed within the secret passageway, the blond man began breathing heavily. Slouched over in his chair now, the bewildered-looking Zak cast a quick glance around him but saw nothing.

_Showtime indeed. The_ _**final curtain call** _ _!_

Pushing aside the bookshelf, Kristoph stepped out of the secret passageway.

"Hello, Zak," he greeted pleasantly, the placid smile on his face competently belying his intentions.

The big man spun around in his chair, eyes bulging and jaw-dropping to the floor at the startling sight of the jilted defense attorney.

" _You!"_ He huffed, puffing out his chest in a gesture of bravado, even though his eyes darted about apprehensively. "What are _you_ doing here?!"

"It's been a long time, _Zak_." Kristoph's smile grew even wider. "But luckily, I _never_ forget a face."

"What the _hell_ do you want, Gavin?"

"Such hostility! Would you prefer if I called you … _Slim Shadi_?"

"How did you find me?" Zak demanded, his voice rising. "And I _refuse_ to answer to the same moniker as some _overhyped, foul-mouthed, white rapper_ bearing _the same name_ as _rainbow chocolate-covered candies_!"

"Or would you rather I call you _Mr. Smith_?" Kristoph gave his best, smarmy smile. "That _is_ the alias you're going by these days, is it not?"

"I think you should leave immediately." Zak glared at him menacingly. "I have neither any business nor _anything,_ to say to the likes of _you_."

"No? That's _such_ a shame." The German affixed his most crestfallen expression. "Because there is _so much_ that _I_ wanted to give _you,_ Mr. Gramarye. A small _token of my appreciation_ for the events that took place seven years ago. Consider this my _farewell_ gift."

"Get lost! I don't want _anything –"_

Before the thickset man could even finish the sentence, Kristoph snatched Phoenix's discarded empty grape juice bottle by the neck, wielded it like a club, and smashed it down, full force, over that loathsome, gleaming, china bone pate.

" _Son of_ _ **argh**_ _…"_

These were the last words that the ex-magician wheezed out, as the heavy blow from the glass was sharp enough to cut flesh as if it posed no resistance. Immediately, a fountain of red came from the wound, the ebb and flow in time with the victim's terrified, rapidly fading heartbeat, killing the man all the faster.

As if he hadn't heard the final gurgle of agony, and without a flicker of remorse, Kristoph serenely remained standing there, in the exact same way one would be spectating a silent theatre production of no importance.

All the while, the sanguine fluid continued to soundlessly trickle to the cold, concrete floor.

 _Still, it drips silently. Fast, it runs in streams._ The German watched impassively as the life slowly drained out of the man whom he had _despised with a vengeanc_ e all these years. _Wet, it can soak things. Dry, it can stain things. With it, comes life. Without it, comes death. Poetic really, when you think of it._

He never moved at all until his mark slumped into his chair, his head tilted to the side as the blood droplets slowly trickled into a collective, claret pool, and Kristoph knew then that Zak Gramarye was no more. Thereafter, he moved carefully but expeditiously, taking one of the cards in the poker hands and slipping in a fifth ace that had been lying on the table. The ace had been splattered with the dead man's blood and he smirked at the ironic nature of the situation. With these minor alterations of the crime scene, Kristoph had just safeguarded that the murder of the longtime _pebble in his shoe_ would be impossible to trace back to him, ensuring that he could never be convicted of this offense, and would readily maintain his respectable, prestigious ranking in society, while history would repeat itself, and Phoenix Wright took the fall for his misdeed – _yet again_.

With dead calm, he then made the precise turn back to the same passage from which he had come, carefully ensuring to close the bookshelf behind him, and marched on, never even a spot of blood on his high-polished shoes.

Everything had gone precisely as he'd conspired, and Kristoph Gavin had gotten his revenge at last.

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _The Hydeout_  
April 17, 2026, 2:13 AM

 _People would lose their ever-loving minds and unleash their fury upon me_ _ **all the time**_ _when I was a lawyer,_ _even when I hadn't even_ _ **done**_ _anything_! The frantic Phoenix reminded himself as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and sprinted back down the stairs. _It's not like I_ _ **haven't**_ _handled_ _ **insanely temperamental people**_ _in the past – what with_ _ **whips, birdseed**_ _, and_ _ **scalding coffee**_ _flying at me! While I didn't know how to diffuse their anger at a time, the point is I_ _ **can**_ _deal with even_ _ **the most hostile**_ _of situations! Therefore, I am sure I'll be able to think of_ _ **some way**_ _to ensure Zak's_ _ **a tad**_ _less maniacal and stays calm until the police arrive…_

Once at the bottom of the steps, he tentatively opened the door.

"I made the call," he announced uneasily as he reentered the room. "The cops should be –"

The words died in his throat as his eyes encountered the horrendous scenario, resembling something out of a gory horror film, which awaited him.

His mind barely registered the spark of electrocution-style shock from the surreal murder scene, before the surge of adrenalin hit him. Phoenix was entirely on edge from this latest bizarre framing attempt, a covertly paranoid animal spurred into hypersensitivity. This, perhaps, was what then allowed him to observe the proceedings in meticulous detail. He was jolted by the dual realization that he was both in mortal peril and that this was _exactly_ the kind of inconceivably cataclysmic event he'd been waiting for.

Peering downward, he saw that that fallen woman had remained perfectly static, appearing as lifeless as a rock since he'd been gone. He wasn't too surprised, given the severe blunt force trauma she had suffered at the hands of that _hefty, bottle-wielding_ _nutcase_!

No, it wasn't the _card dealer's_ unconscious state that was now resulting in the rubatosis from earlier returning with a vengeance, as once again, the pianist could not only _feel_ but _hear_ the accelerated pounding of his heartbeat. He didn't dare move, didn't dare even breathe. He remained completely frozen on the spot as his perturbed gaze finally took notice of the fact that _Olga_ was not the only _deathlike_ person in The Hydeout who appeared _dead to the world_!

Phoenix's mouth went dry as his gaze went to the other unmoving form in the room. He couldn't even try to _momentarily placate_ _himself_ that perhaps Trucy's biological sperm-donor was merely insentient, like the unfortunate blonde lying on the ground. Fortunately, or _unfortunately_ , in this instance, all his years of the defense attorney had given Phoenix Wright an all-too-familiar ability to recognize a dead body when he saw one.

And it was _because_ he had once been an attorney that his poor confused and startled brain was dimly able to register the fact that given these circumstances, he had best be contacting one… _right about now!_

 _Luckily for me, my psychotic stalker, who was more than likely involved with getting me disbarred, yet insists on putting on a public front as my_ _ **alleged**_ _ **chum**_ _, is also a narcissistic self-aggrandizer that prides himself on being_ _ **The Coolest Defense in the West.**_ Despite his attempt at flippant thoughts, Phoenix's breathing was rapid and shallow as he climbed up the stairs again and began dialing the egomaniac's phone number. _Off the top of my head, I can't think of a better man to get the best possible job done! Perhaps I'll be fortunate enough to be given the Gavin_ _ **friends and family discount**_ _for the sake of maintaining our utter_ _ **sham of a friendship**_ _!_

Given the late hour, the pianist had assumed that his call would have awoken the lawyer from his slumber, but Kristoph sounded wide awake and alert when he answered the phone on the very first ring.

"Hello?"

"Kristoph. I seem to be in a bit of trouble." The pianist spoke quickly, without preamble. "Right after you left, at the eleventh hour, I partook in a card game from a spontaneously, out of the blue challenger."

"What's this?" The lawyer inquired mildly. "Game not going well?"

"Something like that." The hobo could feel his pulse pounding in his temples.

"That gentleman who challenged you … He turned out to be good?"

"He turned out to be _dead_." Phoenix gulped. "Someone hit him. _Hard_."

"You mean someone cracked that flawless, bone china pate?" The German drawled. "It…wasn't _you_ , was it?"

"Me? _Please_ ," Phoenix mocked, even as his stomach further knotted. "The cops should be here any minute. I'm in your hands…Should it come to that."

"A request like this demands a huge favor in return."

"Tell me what is it you need and I'll do it."

"In due time. For now, the facts."

Phoenix explained a condensed version of the situation downstairs as Kristoph listened intently. Finally, in a voice a smooth as silk, the attorney spoke.

"Alright, that's all the relevant information I need, for now, _Herr_ Wright. Here's what you need to do…"

When he returned to the scene of the crime, the erstwhile legal legend now let his scrutinizing gaze linger on the chaotic tableau before him, instinctively discerning that his premier glimpse of the unmoving man in the swivel chair had been accurate and that Zak was _not_ simply _blacked out_. This was because, as his horrorstruck vision came to rest, as though in slow motion, upon Zak Gramarye, slumped in his chair, the abandoned bottle lying on the table beside him and his bald head shining from the other side of the room, Phoenix, at last, saw the blood.

The harrowing sight in that deafeningly silent room was so blatant, so grisly, that he staggered backward upon initial sight of the red liquid on the floor. The color swirled in his mind, making him feel lightheaded as, at the same time, his brain morphed into full mental acquisitiveness mode. His aghast stare followed the line, almost forcefully, as if it had a mind of its own. The red liquid was still flowing down to the floor. Every limb in his body screamed for him to run.

He did not listen though.

Instead, he remained with his feet planted firmly on the ground as he experienced the tiny shock tremors that shot through him for several moments before he was somehow able to command his legs to move across the room towards the indisputably departed man.

Feeling a sickening sense of déjà vu from when he had first stumbled upon his beloved mentor's body a decade ago, Phoenix's shaky fingertips brushed against the lifeless neck, in the futile hope of detecting a pulse, but finding none whatsoever.

 _Yup, he's as dead as a doornail, just as I thought._ His head began spinning as the full dreadfulness of the situation sunk in. _The cops are on their way, and they're going to take one look at the state of disarray of this room, and at Olga's unconscious form, and_ _ **then**_ _, as the cherry on top, they'll set eyes on Zak Gramarye, aka "Shadi Smith" and going think that_ _ **I'm**_ _the fiend who was behind all of this!_ His orbs landed on the gleaming gold locket around the dead man's throat and another awful realization struck him. _Earlier tonight, Zak opened it up to show me that there's a photo of_ _ **Trucy**_ _inside of there! If the police put two and two together and realize who he_ _ **truly**_ _was…_

Phoenix's mental processes churned frenetically, as the hyperarousal of imminent mortality triggered such necessary feats of intellect. He'd be the prime suspect for the murder, that much was obvious. There'd even be 'motive', as Zak had just tried to frame him and was partly responsible for his fall from grace as a lawyer. It would be best not to let the victim's true identity get out, as it would establish an even greater motive. Shuddering at the thought, Phoenix acted swiftly, unlatching the dead man's locket and then fastening it around his own neck. _Nobody can prove that this_ _ **isn't**_ _mine. That_ _ **is,**_ _after all,_ _ **my**_ _daughter's photo in there!_

Having taken care of that obstacle, his attentions were then drawn back to the poker table. Except for the red deck of cards that had scattered to the floor and the abandoned bottle lying alongside it, there appeared to be nothing amiss from when he had left the room upon first sight. The chips were all in the same place, as was his full house, and also… _What was this?!_

His sharp gaze inspected Zak's final card hand. By some _inexplicable and mystifying means,_ in the _mere jiffy_ that he'd been upstairs trying to call for help, the _second_ Ace of Spades in his opponent's hand - the basis of Zak's apparent stratagem to _once more_ destroy Phoenix's reputation with assertions of cheating - had been _replaced_ by _a third king_.

The DILF drew in a sharp breath, utterly flummoxed as to the mysterious reason somebody would have played _switcheroo_ with the cards. After all, everything would've gone according to plan for Zak and Olga if they had just left those five aces on the table to implicate Phoenix as the _cheating poker champion_ that they were trying to assert he was!

The irony of the situation was almost comical. He actually would've laughed at the lunacy of it all, had he not been so inherently scared to death about what this all meant for him.

 _The judicious extrapolation here, of course, is identical to nearly every murder trial I ever defended in court._ _This anonymous card swapper was the unknown_ _ **fourth**_ _, rather than_ _ **third**_ _, party, who in all likelihood was Zak's true murderer. They struck in that brief window period that I was out of the room and Olga was out like a light! But what reason could the culprit have possibly had to swap those cards? Could it be because…?_

The answer came to him in a flash.

_That missing ace was crucial evidence at this crime scene! Zak bled like a stuck pig when he was killed, and hence must have hemorrhaged on that card upon the moment of impact! Hmmm... That means that Zak had his back to the table when he was murdered, and his killer must have been hiding in that little-known secret passage, lurking all this time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Back there, they undoubtedly would have been able to hear that we_ _**both** _ _had_ _**full houses** _ _and hence, the elusive fifth ace being traded for a king. I better search for more clues before the cops come and cuff me!_

Phoenix did another cursory inspection of the area. As his searching gaze roamed for telling clues he might have overlooked, for some reason that he wasn't quite sure of, _a seemingly offhand comment_ Kristoph had made during their short conversation returned and sharply rankled, although he couldn't put his finger just yet as to _why_ this was so. All the same, as he crept back over to the corpse, he found his hand moving on its own volition, as though somehow _compelled_ to do so. Without a second thought, he scooped up Zak's _paradoxically_ _named_ Deadman's Top Hat from the floor and placed it carefully atop his blood-encrusted forehead, so that at initial sight, it appeared as though the man was only sleeping.

_OK, so upon further examination of this new card, this third king is from the blue deck?! But that deck is still neatly piled by the dealer's chair? Why would the killer ruffle through the cards in that deck rather than the ones on the floor?! Did the perpetrator not think to look to look down there?! That_ _**has** _ _to be it! Upon first peek, the poker table gives the impression that the poker match was played utilizing the cards in the blue deck! Obviously, they were in too much of a hurry to pay much attention to smaller details, what with being too busily_ _**committing homicide** _ _!_

A soft, pained moan was heard from the corner of the room as Olga began to stir, and Phoenix rushed over to her side as she struggled to sit up, clutching her head as she did so.

"Olga!" His brows were knitted with concern as he crouched over her. "Are you alright?"

The double-agent card dealer stared at him with glazed eyes, blinking dazedly for a few seconds before her eyes shifted to the other side of the room, and her free hand clapped over her parted lips, terror-stricken at the gruesome sight of Zak Gramarye slumped in the corner.

" _W- What the_ …? _I – Is_ _he_ …?" The shaken young woman could barely speak and looked near faint again.

"Don't waste your strength talking," the fake musician advised, feeling completely drained now. "I called the police, who are on their way, probably with an ambulance. You were hit pretty hard and probably still need medical attention." He inclined his head in Zak's direction then turned back at her with a grim expression. "Mr. Smith wasn't as fortunate in surviving the blow to _his_ head."

"H – he's _dead?!"_ Olga's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as the meaning of his words registered. "B – But _how_? _Who…?"_

"Those are very good questions." Phoenix dropped down to the floor and took a seat beside her, blearily leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes. "I only wish I could give you equally good answers."

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright**_  
 _Detention Center_  
April 19, 2026, 6:00 PM

By this point, Phoenix had thought he was beyond being astounded. After all, since he was now facing his third homicide trial, he didn't think there was anything on earth left that could possibly still floor him.

Surprise, surprise, he was wrong.

He couldn't have predicted who the caller on the other end line at the detention center had been if his _life_ had depended on it.

"H – Hello?"

"Wright, you bloody _imbecile!"_ The unmistakably familiar voice on the phone barked. "What fine mess have you gotten yourself into _now_?!"

" _E – Edgeworth_?" He croaked out in feeble response to the irate voice on the line.

 _Jeez, Edgy, have you_ _ **never**_ _heard of commencing a phone conversation with a simple_ _ **"hello, is it me you're looking for?"**_ Phoenix gawped into the receiver as he channeled his indignant inner Lionel Richie. _I'm starting to think he rather_ _ **enjoys**_ _starting every phone call we've had in the last seven years with some sort of trademarked_ _ **edginess!**_

" _Of course,_ it's _me_ , you fool!" The prosecutor snapped. "Who _else_ would be calling you in the _hoosegow_ , where your _imbecilic self_ has now _thrice_ managed to end up? Rest assured, _I already know_ that you're facing yet _another_ spurious murder charge. Somehow, despite becoming _a reclusive mole_ of some sorts these last seven years, you have _still_ managed to make international news!"

Edgeworth stopped to take a breath, and when he spoke again, the agitation in his tone had diminished somewhat.

"But that's neither here nor there right now. We don't have long, so give me the details that _weren't_ in the headlines. What is the time and date of your trial that I will be defending you at?"

Despite the dire straits he knew he was in, Phoenix couldn't help but let out a semi-hysterical, humorless bark of laughter, partially stemmed from relief at hearing that _venerated, ever-disapproving British accent_ _after_ _so long_ , and partially because he _fully_ grasped, in that instant, even with the clipped tone and admonishing verbal spurs he'd just been succumbed to, that Miles Edgeworth was really and truly the best friend he'd ever have in his entire life.

"Have you lost your bloody mind, Wright?" The barrister did not sound in the least amused. "Do you realize you are facing death row, _yet again_? What _in God's name_ is so funny?"

"I'm sorry, my friend." He wiped his eyes, which had been brimming with mirth. "It's just that, amazingly enough, I have _no shortage_ of defense attorneys of any kind, which is _hilarious_ because you'd think _no lawyer worth his salt_ would want to touch me or this case with a 100-foot pole! You are literally the _third_ legal eagle who's willing to defend me! However, as much as I appreciate the offer, old friend, I must graciously decline your services."

"Are you sure that it was not _you_ that was _hit in the head_ with that grape juice bottle?" Edgeworth demanded. "Because I could have _sworn_ that I just heard you reject the services of a _veteran attorney_ who has _successfully_ aided you with your defense in the past!"

"And I am forever in his debt for that," Phoenix said kindly, affecting a more somber tone now. "But the fact is, I already _have_ a defense attorney – and I've selected a very competent one for my trial tomorrow. He is currently the understudy of Kristoph Gavin and his name is Apollo Justice."

" _Apollo Justice?"_ The prosecutor echoed uncomprehendingly. "What kind of name is that? I've never heard of him."

"It's the _entirely fitting_ name of a newly graduated young man, from my own _alma mater_ ,

who has the makings to be a great asset to the legal system! He also possesses _admirable_ , if not downright _enviable_ , morals and ethics," the accused declared. "And I am _very_ confident in his capabilities."

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you, Wright?!" The chess enthusiast sounded incredulous. "You _cannot_ choose a defense attorney simply because he's got _a catchy name_ that _just so happens_ to be _suited to his profession_ , or because he _graduated from the same university_ as you did!"

"It would be no less ridiculous than my last client choosing me to represent them because I beat them at poker!" Phoenix countered. "But for the record, _neither_ of those are the reasons I chose Apollo to represent me, although they certainly _were_ taken into consideration."

"You seriously mean to tell me that you're putting your fate in the hands of a _rookie attorney?!"_

"That's _exactly_ what I'm saying," the hobo replied quietly. "You put your neck on the line for me _once_ already Edgeworth and were fortunate enough to dodge the consequences for assuming the role of a defense attorney. You're a _prosecutor_ , and a damn good one, and I will _never_ have you risk jeopardizing that for my sake, _ever_ again. We both know that I am innocent of this alleged crime…"

_If I_ _**were** _ _capable of random acts of violence or murder, I would have clocked Zak at first sight and snuffed out Gavin the first time he threatened my Maya!_

"… and Apollo _will_ be able to prove it. You're just going to have to trust me on this one."

"I see you've only grown more stubborn over the years, you _thick-skulled fool_." The cravat wearer heaved a resigned sigh as he realized this was one battle he wasn't going to win. "You said your trial is tomorrow?"

"First thing in the morning," Trucy's father affirmed.

"Then I suppose the only other thing I can do, which I hope you _will_ agree to, suggests you get a decent sleep tonight," Edgeworth said wearily. "You'll need it to have your remaining wits about you, _whatever is left of them_ , for court tomorrow."

"The mats in the holding cells at the detention center aren't exactly the most comfortable thing to get a good night's shuteye on," Phoenix deadpanned. "But I'll do my best to follow those instructions of yours."

"There's no paper-thin mat, Wright. You'll be sleeping in your own bed tonight."

" _W- What?"_ The pianist stammered. "What are you _saying?_ How can I go home when my bail was set at _$500,000?"_

" _Because_ , you _foolish fool_ of a man…" The unruffled British tone was now showing the strain in his waning patience. He didn't even care that he was mimicking Franziska's idioms of this point. "Your bail has been _posted, in full._ "

It took a moment for the full weight of the words to sink in, but then it was only another split second before Phoenix felt the stinging sensation behind his eyes.

" _My God_ , Edgeworth." He swallowed hard against the lump beginning to form in his throat. "T-Thank you so much. I -I don't know what else to say. How can I _ever_ repay you for this?"

"You can _start_ by _not_ skipping the country, and thus leaving me _half a million dollars_ in the lurch, in the unlikely event that you decide to _bail_ _out_ on your _bail_ ," Edgeworth responded dryly. "I suppose you could then _continue_ the goodwill gesture by _somehow_ _not_ getting yourself sentenced to the gallows tomorrow. It would surely ruin _the rest of my week_ should _that_ occur."

_Looks like_ _**I** _ _am not the only one who hasn't changed in seven years! You're_ _**always** _ _going to be a_ _**tsundere son of a gun** _ _aren't you, Miles Edgeworth?!_

"What we can't have _that_ happen, _can_ we?" Phoenix was grinning like an idiot now and glanced over at Gumshoe, who was feigning interest in ruffling through some police reports and attempting to appear as though he wasn't eavesdropping, although the big ear-to-ear grin on his broad face was a dead giveaway as he listened to the familiar bantering exchange of his two old friends. "Fret not, Edgeworth, I can hardly be a _flight risk,_ when I can't even afford to _take a taxi home_ from this place, never mind _a plane ticket_ out of here!"

"Thank you for your delightful reassurance!" The prosecutor's voice turned uncharacteristically soft then. "Don't worry about a cab, Wright. You can tell the station to add it to my tab so that if you decide to flee the country, you will then owe me _half a million_ -plus _fifty_ dollars!"

Gumshoe didn't even try to pretend he hadn't overheard _that_ one! Clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his barely stifled laughter, the big man cocked an amused eyebrow at the temporary prisoner.

"Tell him to leave that amount at _just_ the half-million, pal," he assured the spiky-haired man. "I can arrange a police escort to get you home to that sweet daughter of yours as soon as possible. Children are so precious, and you should savor every moment you get with them."

"I heard him. I'm glad to hear that matter has been resolved." Not knowing what else to say, as the conversation had drawn to a close, the logic lover awkwardly cleared his throat. "Anyhow, it was good speaking to you again, Wright. Best of luck to you tomorrow. Please tell the Chief that I wish to speak to him once he arranges your transportation home."

"Thanks, Edgeworth." It was then Phoenix's turn to be at a loss of words for the man he owed the world to, yet hadn't laid eyes upon in so long. "Um, I guess I'll be seeing you around then? Er, I dunno _when_ that will be, but er, keep in touch, I guess?"

"Naturally." The prosecutor coughed. "I will hold for the Chief now."

"Hey, Meekins!" Gumshoe bellowed, directing his booming call down the hall. "Get in here!"

"Yes, Sir!" A moment later, the clumsy, overzealous, awkward young man appeared, attempting to salute the police chief, but only ended up jabbing himself in the eye instead. " _Owwwww_!"

Painfully scrunching up the abused eyeball, he somehow managed to smile benignly at his superior.

"How can I help you, Sir?"

Gumshoe sighed with barely disguised impatience and jerked up his thumb towards Phoenix, who was trying to determine if hitchhiking home was a safer and more viable option than getting into any vehicle with this _overly excitable, bone-headed,_ _ **clod!**_

"Get the squad car and take my pal home once your _eyeball_ recovers, Meekins," the Chief commanded. "You may then resume your Meter Maid duties."

"Yes, Sir!" Meekins turned to Phoenix, and in the absence of his usual megaphone, somehow _still_ managed to sound as equally loud and annoying as ever. "Come with me, Mr. Wright, Sir!"

Phoenix shot his friend a pained look as Meekins marched to the exit door, which clearly said, _what the hell?!_

"We demoted him to court bailiff seven years ago, but were so short-staffed with the LAPD, we let him come back to the force because we needed some lackey willing to do the thankless, bottom rung duty of parking enforcement officer." The Chief shrugged. "He's not so bad once you get that megaphone away from him, which was a _key_ stipulation in letting him back on the force."

"Right. Well, thanks, pal. See you." Phoenix flashed Gumshoe a strained but thankful smile as he waved goodbye to his friend and reluctantly followed Meekins, who'd somehow managed to trip over his own feet twice en route to the exit door. "If I don't text you that I'm home within half an hour, please send back up, because it probably means that Meekins crashed the squad car and I require medical attention."

 _Or that I've finally snapped and_ _ **killed**_ _him_... _surely it would only count as a_ _ **minor misdemeanor**_ _though?_

Gumshoe cracked up at the quip, and as soon as Phoenix had left, picked up the phone line, and found Edgeworth was still patiently waiting.

"Long time, no speak! How are you doing, Sir?"

"It is most kind of you to ask, but, unfortunately, now is not the time for exchanging pleasantries. We will have to save our catching up for another time." As always, Edgeworth cut right to the chase. "Chief, we need to discuss Wright's situation."

"What can I say?" Gumshoe scratched his head. "Bad luck follows that guy around like a nasty fart! Must be that chip in his shoulder that he's had since he got disbarred."

"This is _the most_ foolhardy thing he's ever done!" Edgeworth fumed. "I cannot _believe_ he vetoed _my_ services and plans to have this supposedly wondrous _boy-child_ defend him instead!" He refrained from breaking his best friend's confidence and telling the police chief that when he and Phoenix had last spoken about their shared suspicions regarding Kristoph Gavin, the disbarred attorney had confessed that his prime goal had been to find _a worthwhile defense attorney_ to retry the Gramarye case, _not_ defend him against criminal charges in a court of law!

"Well, you can't really blame the guy for opting to have an _actual_ defense attorney defend him," Gumshoe responded carefully. "Yes, you are an excellent attorney, but you do come to the courtroom from a different perspective. Please, don't be too angry at Phoenix for this. I've heard of this Justice kid. He's absolutely brilliant, a prodigy of sorts, just like _you_ were."

" _Talent_ does not equal _experience!"_ Edgeworth sounded exasperated. "This young man doesn't necessarily know all the tricks of the trade, and yet Wright is _entrusting his life_ to him!"

"Phoenix defended Maya when he was only just the young rookie," Gumshoe reminded him.

"She was an innocent teenager! Since losing his badge, Wright has garnered a reputation as an unsavory character, with a cocky attitude that borders on being anti-social, and the prosecution undoubtedly _will_ bring that up! A former attorney disbarred for forging evidence and now making his living by illegally gambling is _not_ an ideal person to defend."

Evidently, the newspapers had dug up _all_ the dirt on the hobo pianist's activities at The Borscht Bowl Club.

"I know how much you care about him," Gumshoe said gently, noting the palpable worry under the veneer of agitation in the prosecutor's normally smooth baritone. "I do, too. But sometimes there is only so much you can do before you realize it's out of your hands. Why do you think _I_ didn't post the bail money for him? Because as chief of police, I wasn't _allowed_ to! It would have constituted a conflict of interest."

"Well it's a good thing _I_ came along then, isn't it?" The emotionally constipated legist muttered.

"Phoenix asked you to trust him. Are you really _not_ going able to do that?"

"I _will_ trust him – because I _have no_ other choice!" Edgeworth heaved a long-suffering sigh. "That man was once a brilliant attorney, and I _need_ to believe he knows what he's doing. But we are in the Dark Age of Law, Gumshoe and _what I don't trust_ is _the court system_! There's no way I can just stand idly by and play the game of chance when it comes to Phoenix Wright facing the death penalty, for a crime I know he did not commit. There must be _something_ I can do!"

"Well, the case doesn't have a prosecutor yet…"

" _Eureka!"_ The customarily composed tone sounded positively jubilant upon hearing this news. " _That's it!"_

" _What's_ 'it'?" Gumshoe asked doubtfully. "Don't tell me you're going to fly back from Europe or wherever it is you've been, just to prosecute this case?"

"Of _course_ not, don't be a fool!" Edgeworth scoffed. "I know he's not the killer, but I certainly don't want to have a _capable_ prosecutor, least of all that _punk_ , Klavier Gavin, getting Wright a guilty verdict. I'm going to shamelessly use my clout with the Prosecutor's Office in this instance. Chief Gumshoe, could I kindly request that you carry through this request on my behalf and assign a _particular_ prosecutor to the trial tomorrow to square off against the _greenhorn_ Mr. Justice?"

"Sure, I'll do whatever it takes to help our pal out!" Gumshoe agreed enthusiastically. "Which prosecutor did you have in mind, Sir?"

Upon hearing the name, the kindhearted police chief laughed for a good minute straight.

 _The legal newbie Apollo Justice will have_ _ **no problem**_ _ **whatsoever**_ _with getting Phoenix a_ _ **not-guilty**_ _verdict tomorrow!_ Gumshoe chuckled to himself _. You can bet your bottom dollar on it!_

* * *

 _ **Phoenix Wright  
**_ April 19, 2026, 6:45 PM __ **  
**

Brooding in the back seat of the unmarked squad car, as Meekins carefully drove through the congested Los Angeles traffic, Phoenix silently mulled over his predicament. He was experiencing the ultimate _nodus tollens_ : the realization that the plot of his life didn't make sense to him anymore.

Like hail on a glass pane, the drumming of his nervous fingers was as relentless as it was loud. Each click of his nails against the glass window mimicked the tumultuous thudding of his heartbeat. His face, rigid with tension, belied his youthfulness. A glimpse at his reflection in the window confirmed that he seemed to have aged a decade in the past few hours.

For the umpteenth time, he mentally ran over every single instance from that fatal night, his memory sharpened to a nearly eidetic state as he could vividly see _each and every crime scene detail_ , forever etched into his memory, allowing him to instinctively deduce logical conclusions as clearly as though he were still present at The Hydeout. All the puzzle pieces he'd gathered still fell into the correct place… _Except for one_.

For some reason, as though on auto replay, that niggling, seemingly innocuous comment Kristoph had made still would not escape his mind

_"You mean someone cracked that flawless bone china pate? It…wasn't you, was it?"_

In his mind's eye, he could once again see the corpse of Zak Gramarye, his hat on the floor and his bleeding, bald head visible for the world to see. The only one to have seen Zak's chrome dome that night was Phoenix himself ... and the victim's killer. He hadn't worked out what bugged him about the question until that precise instant, when it felt as though a light bulb had gone off over his head, right there in that police car.

_Pate = the crown or top of the head. Shiny bald head = flawless bone china…_ _**Jesus H. Christ** _ _! Son of a bitch!_ _**Kristoph** _ _was the one who killed Zak!_

Phoenix cursed his occhiolism regarding something that should have been glaringly obvious. It was beyond disconcerting, made even more so by the knowledge that as the criminally accused, _his_ testimony about Kristoph's involvement in the events would be arduous to prove, and even more difficult to make the courts believe, especially coming from _Phoenix Wright,_ of forging attorney acclaim.

His nails were bitten down to the quick. He nibbled at their frayed, formed edges like a famished mouse, with butterflies in his stomach and his head buzzing with apprehension as he grasped that, given his past record, what with the forgery incident and the two previous murder charges, the court certainly wouldn't take his checkered history into light account, and undeniably want to make an "example" out of him.

_Thrice now I've been accused – then acquitted – of murder. I just hope the third time's the charm._

Phoenix had never been more terrified in his life. There was the very real and horrific possibility that the death penalty was quite probable.

_The last seven years of trailing Kristoph in the futile irresolution of 'that' case hasn't been living anyway. It's been entrapment in some kind of psychological purgatory, thwarting any hope of closure or life progression._

Having made the conscious decision that risking his life, such as it was, was irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, he relaxed into a hypnagogic state. A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye and his mouth formed a determined grimace. With arms folded tightly across his broad chest, he tapped his foot furiously on the floorboard and stared out of the car window.

This final evening before _the day of reckoning_ would either see the dawn of his new life or shatter his dreams in two. Instinct rendered feelings of petrification and entrapment but was coupled with the conflicting revelation that _this_ was the _final_ and _sole_ opportunity of escape from the seemingly relentless bounds of fraud and non-closure which had hijacked his life – ensuring Kristoph Gavin got rightfully convicted for the murder.

_My body lost its strength long ago. My mind shattered and the rest of me followed suit. Without the hatred I'd die, there isn't any part of me that feels anything else. Without it, I'd be nothing, feel nothing, so why eat? Why sleep? Why continue to breathe? But I have the hate, my only companion in the wilderness we call existence. It is the fuel that keeps my heart pumping and brain ticking over. Revenge is coming. It's coming real soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodney Atkins - If You're Going Through Hell
> 
> Bloodbath: word type: poker slang.  
> Meaning: A disastrous day, or session, in poker. ;)


	124. With Arms Wide Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for my delay in posting for this story which is my baby – I was trying to update my other two, sorely neglected collaborative works, Crossfire and Filling the Void, and while I don't know if certain changes in my life recently will allow me to post chapters as frequently as I used to, I'll do my very best to at least update at least monthly for Turnabout Everlasting… For those of you who haven't given up on me and are still reading thank you so much. Consider this chapter the calm before the storm… 😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The most beautiful smiles hide the deepest secrets, the prettiest eyes have cried the most tears and the kindest hearts have felt the most pain."

_**Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright  
**_ _Wright Talent Agency_  
April 20, 2026, 8:15 AM

"Baby girl, I beg you…" Phoenix's loving voice was calm but slightly weary. " _Please_ , try to calm down…"

"I _can't_ lose _you_ too, Daddy!" Trucy wailed for the hundredth time that morning, her small hands clutching at his sweatshirt as though he were a life raft in a raging storm, gripping the material so tightly against her clenched fists that the hobo felt the circulation in his arms becoming somewhat constricted. "I – I just _can't_!"

He closed his eyes against the stinging sensation building behind them and tried to soothe the hysterical teenager for the umpteenth time, as he had countlessly been doing since the night before, but to no avail. Trucy still refused to be consoled and had been glued to his side ever since he had been driven home by Meekins, miraculously unscathed, from the police station the night before. The magician had been like a clinging vine the entire night and had even insisted on sleeping with him, something she hadn't done since she was a little girl. But although her father hadn't slept a wink, even in her restless slumber, his daughter had been whimpering in her troubled sleep, alternating between snuggling against his shoulder and tightly gripping his pajama top the entire time, as though subconsciously terrified that if she were to let go, he would disappear.

Obviously, it was no surprise whatsoever that she hadn't taken the news of his murder charge very well. While Phoenix had anticipated his daughter to be as nervous and panicked and scared as _he_ inwardly was - but was trying his best _not_ to convey to her - he _had_ , perhaps somewhat naïvely, expected her anxiety to have _somewhat_ quelled overnight; had harbored somewhat vain hopes that his comforting efforts had been _partially_ effective.

Evidently, they hadn't.

In fact, the teen was somehow even _more_ hysterical now, on the morning of his trial, than she had been the night before. Try as he might, there was absolutely nothing Phoenix could say or do that could placate her!

Never before had he felt as hapless as he did then, as he held the sobbing teen in his arms and stroked her hair, his calming words falling on deaf ears as he unsuccessfully tried to quiet her.

"Y – You're all I've got left!" She wept, as her unending torrent of tears drenched his shoulder. "I love you so much, Daddy! What am I going to do without you?"

"Hey now," Phoenix said softly, lifting her chin and gazing at her tear-stained face with gentle eyes. "Don't talk about your old man as though he's got one foot in the grave, Truce! Like I've told you before, _nothing_ ' _s_ going to happen to me! And don't say that you haven't got anybody else. You know that Aunt Maggey and Uncle Gumshoe love you as much as they do their sons, and will always be there for you…"

It was no use. Her brain had shut down. She was clammy and there was the glisten of cold sweat. Her eyes were as wide as if someone was coming to deliver the fatal blow. Yet what she saw, no-one else could see. Trapped in her own fixation, a living nightmare for one, tailor-made by her brain to play on her deepest fears. There was a terrifying moment when he wondered if she'd literally broken down from the weight of this turmoil, but mercifully, she finally spoke.

"You wouldn't be _saying_ that if you truly _believed_ there wasn't risk about you being wrong that _nothing_ was going to happen!" Trucy finally cried, her entire body shaking with the force of her sobs. " _When_ are you going to stop _bluffing_ to me, Daddy? We _both_ know that there is a _very good_ chance that if you're found guilty for this murder, you're looking at facing _death_ _row_ , if not _going to prison for life_ , and the _latter_ is only if you're _lucky_!"

The ugly truth of her words hung suspended over father and daughter like a guillotine blade. There was absolutely nothing Phoenix could possibly say to refute them.

"Daddy, I'm _not_ a little girl anymore, and you've _got_ to stop trying to hide things from me!" Trucy's teary blue eyes suddenly turned accusing and defiant. "I _know_ who Shadi Smith was! I _know_ that you're going to be on trial today because the police think _you_ murdered _my biological father!"_

The unexpected allegation floored him, causing him to reel back, and fall heavily against the kitchen counter, which the pianist had been leaning back on as he held the distraught teen. His eyes were round as he stared at his daughter in shocked dismay at being confronted with the ugly truth, something which he wholly acknowledged she had every right to be aware of, but which he'd had zero intention of letting her know until a more appropriate time had come. And the night before, never mind _an hour before_ his court trial most definitely hadn't qualified!

Trucy – she _knew?!_ _Somehow_ , despite his efforts to conceal the matter regarding Shadi Smith's true identity, she _still_ knew that it had been her father, Zak Gramarye, who had been the murder victim? How was that even _possible_?! Phoenix had known for quite a while now his daughter possessed some sort of mysterious, otherworldly, innate skill she'd inherited, which gave her the uncanny gift of perception, but since when had that morphed into full-blown _clairvoyance_?!

_This makes me wonder what_ _**other** _ _**so** _ _-_ _**called** _ _**secrets** _ _I've been fruitlessly trying to keep from her, which she nonetheless_ _**knows** _ _all about?!_

"You – you _know_?" He echoed dazedly, completely dumbfounded. " _H – How_?"

It was a beyond ridiculous question. Considering the fact Trucy was entirely aware of this even more devastating news, on top of facing the fear of losing _him_ as well, Phoenix knew that rather than _questioning_ her, he should have been _consoling_ her, now for entirely different reasons!

Regardless, they'd still been the first words to escape his gobsmacked lips.

Trucy shook her head and stared at him despairingly, despite the tears continuing to fall from her agonized blue orbs.

"I recognized that customized _locket_ you're wearing, Daddy," she whispered brokenly. "I remembered that my other father used to wear it all the time. He had it especially handcrafted from some Italian jeweler friend of his right after I was born, and it's the only one like in the world. I'd know it anywhere, just as I know there's only _one_ way _you_ could've ever gotten your hands on it."

Phoenix gulped, his fingers instinctively flying to the gold ornament around his neck, which he hadn't realized was presently visible, and had thought he'd managed to have kept hidden underneath his bulky sweatshirt.

"Tell me I'm wrong, Daddy." She met his gaze steadily. "Tell me right now that if you opened up that locket, there's _not_ going to be a picture of _me_ inside of it."

"I can't lie to you about something like that, Truce." Phoenix shook his head, then reached out and pulled her back into his arms. "I'm so sorry you had to find out like _this_. But you _do_ know I'd _never_ have done anything to hurt your Daddy, don't you?"

"I'm as sure as the day is long that _my Daddy_ would never hurt a fly." Her voice was muffled against his chest. "I'm as certain of that as I am that you had your own _very good reasons_ for taking that trademark piece of jewelry off of him."

She peered up into his somber face with a morose expression.

"I'll shed my tears for my other father later. Right now, _nothing_ matters to me more than _you_ , Daddy. Because you're more important to me than anything in the whole world, and I love _you_ more than I _ever_ loved Shadi Enigmar."

Phoenix was rocked to his core. He felt his eyes welling up at this unexpected proclamation. While the words were music to his ears, and a joy to behold for his battered heart and mind, he still hadn't been prepared for them and found himself rendered speechless.

He had never known what selfless, parental love was until that fateful day in May when he had summoned Trucy Enigmar into his office seven years ago. He had known kindness but the negative influences in his life had outweighed the good until then. The happiest day of his life was when the adoption papers had been finalized and declared Phoenix was Trucy Wright's father, making it official that his daughter was really and truly _his_ , as close as law and love could make them. It had been the most perfect feeling he had ever known.

It swept through him once again, full force, as he wrapped her in his protective embrace, as though he'd never let her go.

Undaunted by his silence, Trucy earnestly continued.

"At this point, Daddy, you have been raising me as long as my other father did. Without the compassion and love you gave me; I don't know what would have happened to me when my birth father decided to just up and leave me that fateful day. Growing up with a performer parent, life was never stable. As magicians, we lived the lives of rolling stones, always moving from one place to another during my early childhood years. I never had a place to call my own. But then _you_ came along, with arms wide open, and found it in your big, kind heart to take me in and become not only my new father, and my guardian, but a confidante and friend. _You_ _alone_ have been the sole rock in my life - an anchor point - to always keep me grounded, safe, and where I belong."

A fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes.

"Which is why I can't _bear_ the thought of losing you! We need to find a way to get you out of this mess! You must think like a magician at times like this, Daddy! Don't you have some sort of plan B _trick_ up your sleeve?"

" _Trick?_ " The pianist eyed her warily. "I don't know _what_ you're thinking, baby girl but I'm telling you, _right now,_ that I'm _not_ about to stoop to any sort of _illegalities_ to get my name cleared!"

"But Daddy, _surely_ you have to have _some_ sort of _evidence_ to prove your innocence!" She insisted. "Something that takes the finger of suspicion away from being directed at you and towards the real killer!"

The poker champ refrained from letting his daughter know that he had secretly recorded his phone call to Kristoph, thinking there was no point in further upsetting her or getting her hopes up in case his plan failed.

"Trucy, the bad man I suspect is the true culprit behind your father's murder was foolish enough to make a slip of the tongue once already. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to trip him up into confessing once more." He attempted to smile reassuringly. "I know I've been out of the courts for some time but there's still the heart of a lawyer lurking beneath this tracksuit of mine. Have faith in your old man."

"I can't just leave this to _faith_ , Daddy!" Suddenly, Trucy's eyes lit up and Phoenix spotted a calculating expression in them that he wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable or familiar with. "If there was no _actual_ evidence available to prove that you're not the culprit here, it wouldn't _hurt_ to have a little bit of _insurance_ , just to be safe, would it?"

"Trucy Wright…" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the gleam in the suddenly determined blue gaze. " _Whatever_ it is you're even _thinking_ about planning, I want you to remove that thought from your mind immediately! You already saw what happened to me because of being framed over forged evidence, and you should know better than _anybody_ how just as I am incapable of committing murder, I'm _equally_ _as incapable_ of resorting to such a treacherous act, _the_ _very one_ which got me disbarred in the first place!"

"But Daddy – " She protested weakly, just as Phoenix's phone began to ring. Raising a hand to silence her momentarily, he quickly answered it.

"You're out front now? Okay Chief, I'll be out in a minute." Snapping the phone closed, the DILF tucked it into his pocket and affixed his daughter with his most stern expression. "Uncle Gumshoe is here to take me to the courthouse. I want you to go to school like my good little girl and promise me you'll _annihilate_ any _crazy schemes_ you may be harboring, Trucy Wright, and that's an _order_! Do I make myself clear?"

Trucy's eyes welled up with tears again, this time of defeat, and her shoulders slumped, but she managed to nod, even though her gaze remained on the ground.

"Yes, Daddy," she mumbled, swallowing back the fresh set of histrionics threatening to erupt from her. "I promise."

"That's my girl." He flashed her a tender smile, then leaned down and pressed a kiss on top of her head. "Now, you better get ready for school, otherwise you're going to miss your bus! Just think happy positive thoughts for me, and try not to worry too much, OK baby girl?"

Trucy nodded miserably, eyes still downcast.

"Don't look so sad." Phoenix forced himself to sound cheerful and optimistic as he lifted her chin with his finger. "Just wish me good luck, and let Daddy see that beautiful smile of yours before he leaves."

Her lower lip began to quiver in response.

" _Please_ , Truce." The card shark kept his plastered grin intact, even though he felt his heart was being torn to shreds little by little, realizing this could very well be the last time he'd be able to see his beautiful daughter without a thick, bulletproof glass separating them. "Can't you smile for Daddy?"

"I love you, Daddy." Trucy swallowed back the lump in her throat and treated him to a watery smile. "G – Good luck in court."

"I love you too, Truce. Thanks for the good luck wishes!" He gave her one last kiss on the forehead before grabbing his keys and heading downstairs. "Take care, baby girl."

The minute Trucy heard the office door downstairs slam shut behind him, she anxiously began pacing the kitchen back and forth like a caged panther, while she wrestled with her conscience. She had never before defied her father in the nearly 8 years she had known him, and yet that was _exactly_ what she was sorely tempted to do, despite her hasty promise to the contrary.

_Go to school_?! She let out a humorless laugh. What a joke that was! As if she could just keep calm and carry on, and somehow concentrate on inane things such as Shakespeare and algebra when _her father's life_ was on the line! She was almost insulted that he'd seriously expected her to do such a thing in the first place, as though she were the same happy-go-lucky child he'd adopted, who hadn't had a care in the world!

_I'm not a little girl anymore. I grew up many years ago. Life was never easy with my other father after Mommy was gone, and as much as I enjoyed the performing life, at times, worrying about the safety of Daddy, fretting about whether or not he would suddenly vanish, due to an unfortunate accident, just like Mommy did was_ _**utter** _ _**hell** _ _._

She angrily scrubbed away at her fresh tears with her magician's cape.

_And always traveling around like a bunch of vagabonds made me feel so lost and alone sometimes because I could never be any place long enough to make or keep friends. Every time I saw a cut flower, I knew how it felt. It had no roots at all, nothing to anchor it to this world; yet was still expected to give its beauty, to flourish, and warm the hearts of others. No-one can see my vulnerability; they cannot see the roots I lack. I paint the world with the vibrancy of my laughter and my magic._

Trucy had never felt more conflicted in her entire life. She needed a sign of some sort if she was going to make up her mind and she needed it now.

" _Pearly_!" She gasped out loud as her levelheaded best friend suddenly sprang to her mind. She raced to the wall phone and frantically began dialing the spirit mediums number listening impatiently as it rang and rang. "If I can let her know what's going on and get her opinion, and _she_ manages to talk me out of it, _then_ I'll be a good little girl and obey my Daddy like I said I would."

The phone rang half a dozen times before it went to voicemail. Unfazed, Trucy hung up the phone. Hey, she'd _tried_! But this was most definitely _a_ _sign_ if she'd ever heard of one! The answer was crystal clear to her now.

"Forgive me, Daddy," she whispered out loud, clenching her gloved hands into little fists as a steely glint of resolution came to her eye. "I know what I have to do."

_When I came here to live with my new Daddy, in so many ways, my life improved. He didn't have a lot of money, but he was a great man who cared, and made sure that I still had enough food and clothes._ _Being Phoenix Wright's daughter allowed me to look forward to the future and work hard in everything I did. He promised me_ _**he** _ _would_ _**never leave me** _ _the way my other Daddy did, and I believed him. It's very hard to mourn a man that just left me like a straight puppy on a stranger's doorstep, abandoning this burden he no longer wished to carry. My new Daddy vowed to be everything my other Daddy wasn't and gave me what he did not - security and unconditional love. I pray to the man upstairs to give me that strength, to help me funnel the love he's given me to my children someday. But right now, I need God to give me the courage to go through with this and help make sure that my new Daddy can_ _**keep** _ _his promise_ _**to never leave me** _ _._


	125. The Day Of Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The truth wakes up once and never dies." ― José Martí

**_Phoenix Wright and Dick Gumshoe_** _  
Los Angeles District Courthouse_  
April 20, 2026, 9:30 AM

"You've been awfully quiet, pal," the police Chief remarked, casting a sideways glance at his friend, who was idly staring out the passenger window, as he had been the entire hour-long ride through morning rush-hour to court, lost in contemplation. "How are you holding up?"

"Sorry about that, Chief." Phoenix reluctantly tore his sightless gaze away from the glass and tried to drag his thoughts back to the present, smiling wanly at the broad-shouldered man in the driver's seat. "I'm OK, I guess. I've just been… You know, thinking. I apologize that I haven't been very good commuting company."

The former Detective gave him a sympathetic smile as he carefully pulled into the crowded parking lot of the all too familiar building, which Phoenix hadn't set foot in for seven years. The familiar yet unsettling sensation of altschmerz washed over him. So much had changed for him, and yet he felt like things had remained the same, and he wished he could shake the never-ending feeling of weariness with the same old issues that he'd always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that he'd been gnawing on for years. No matter. It would all come to a head today anyway.

"You have nothing to apologize for, pal." As the men exited the vehicle, Gumshoe placed a ham-sized palm on his shoulder. "Obviously, you have a lot on your mind, I get it. I took the day off work just so I could be here and I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Maggey and I both are. Heck, she'd be here right now if she didn't have to watch the baby. She sends her love and best wishes."

"There are no words to describe how grateful I am for you both." The defendant smiled again for the other man's benefit, even though he felt the growing apprehension mounting within him as he stared at the ominous-looking flight of stairs leading up to the courthouse entrance behind him. "On that note, there's something that I wanted to tell you. Trucy was pretty shaken up about this whole thing, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"No doubt. You're that kid's world. She must be out of her mind with worry."

"She was, and probably still is." The DILF awkwardly cleared his throat. "I tried to reassure her, of course, that I'd be fine and told her to just go to school. I wanted her to try to take her mind off all this, and assure her that everything would work itself out. Not that it did much good."

He let out a short, dry laugh.

"The thing is though, we all know how dire the consequences are for me if things don't work out the way I tried to reassure my daughter they would. She was pretty hysterical at the thought of being all alone if she were to lose me, and I told her that you and Maggey would be there for her, in the unlikely event of that occurring. I'm sorry if it was presumptuous to have said such a thing, without having discussed it with you, but given the circumstances…"

"Phoenix, exactly _what_ do you think you need to be sorry for?" The uncharacteristic use of his first name startled the pianist, and he blinked in surprise as Gumshoe's solemn tone turned fiercely protective. "All you did was tell your daughter _the truth_. My wife and I couldn't love Trucy more than if she were _our_ _actual blood niece_. You _never_ need to worry about _anything_ concerning your little girl in _that_ regard, do you hear me?"

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you." The hobo swallowed a lump forming in his throat. "I'll thank you in my prayers for this, old friend."

Gumshoe's puppy dog brown eyes sparkled with emotion, and he looked away quickly, but not before the former attorney saw the tears glistening in them.

"Listen, pal, _all you need to worry_ about is going in there and _getting your name cleared_ , got it?" He coughed. "I mean, this conversation is _just_ for the sake of your peace of mind because we _both_ know _nothing's_ going to happen to you, right?"

"Right." Phoenix felt some of the tension unfolding within him ease somewhat, as he acknowledged that despite the hardships that'd befallen him over the years, he was at least blessed to know his daughter had potential angels as her future guardians, should the hands of fate not turn in his favor today. "T-Thanks, Gumshoe. I kind of _hoped_ …and sort of _knew_ that'd be what you'd say, but it means a lot to have you _confirm it out loud_ , you know?"

"Enough of this crazy talk!" The big man clapped the pianist on the back and gently shoved him in the direction of the stairs. "No more what-ifs! You go in there and you make sure justice is served today. I'm going to be in that gallery, and even though you may not be able to see me, know that I will be right there amongst the masses, rooting for you."

"It's good to know I have support, even if it is sight unseen." Phoenix adjusted his beanie and waved at the Chief one last time. "I've got a lawyer to go meet for the first time. Wish me luck."

"Good luck pal!" Gumshoe called, staring after his friend's retreating back until he disappeared inside, then took a deep breath and headed towards the side entrance, intended for public spectators.

As he pushed his way through the throng, he was slightly astonished to see that there were hardly any seats remaining. It seemed despite being out of the headlines all these years, anything about the anterior King of the Turnabout was still considered newsworthy, and the capacity crowd this trial had drawn was certainly evidence of such. His sharp eyes scanned over the countless heads already seated in the gallery, searching for a vacancy, until he finally spotted one, almost near the very back, and off to the side. The location still gave the spectator a clear view of the trial itself, while simultaneously keeping them completely concealed from the eyes of anybody within the courtroom.

"Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?" He asked a petite female of indeterminable age, oddly dressed in a heavy cloak and hood.

The girl silently shook her head, her face mostly obscured by enormous dark sunglasses, which came halfway down her pale, oval face, and shifted slightly to make room for his wide frame.

As Gumshoe seated himself next to her, for some reason, he felt inclined to peer intently at the stranger beside him and found his inner sleuthing skills were setting off an impossible to ignore, niggling sensation, somehow suggesting to him that perhaps the young lady wasn't such an unknown entity to him after all.

"I'm a police officer, so I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way, Miss…" He began gawkily, his brow furrowing as he goggled at the girl. "But… do I _know_ you? There's something kind of familiar about you, but I can't seem to put my finger on it..."

Rather than respond, a slightly mischievous smile played on the girl's rosy lips upon hearing the question, and she then slipped her over-sized shades down her nose just enough so that he could catch a glimpse of _very_ recognizable, twinkling azure eyes, belonging to none other than _Trucy Wright!_

"I suppose being around for _half my life_ qualifies you to say you _know_ me _somewhat,_ Uncle Gumshoe," she smirked, sliding the dark glasses back into place and playfully sticking out her tongue. "Although to _really_ know someone is quite _subjective_ , is it not?"

" _Trucy_ _?!"_ The startled Chief gaped at his niece. "What on earth are _you_ doing here?! Didn't your father tell you to go to school?!"

"He did," the magician admitted, not seeming even remotely apologetic at having just been busted disobeying parental command. "Although I must say that was a _pretty unrealistic expectation_ of him to have! _As if_ I could ever be _anywhere_ but _at his side_ at a time like this, whether he knows it or not!"

"Your old man's going to be pretty mad at you for not minding his orders." Gumshoe let out a soundless sigh, knowing full well there was nothing he could do to dissuade her at this point since she was already there. "He's probably going to ground you _well into the next decade_ for sure! You _do_ know that, right?"

"Not if _you_ don't _tell_ him!" She replied cheerfully, flashing him a wink as she slipped on her shades again. "And I know that _no Uncle of mine_ would be a _lousy, dirty rat_ , not when we _both_ know that there's _nowhere else_ I should be at a time like other than _right_ _here_ , giving Daddy my loving support, just like _you_ are!"

Gumshoe groaned. Many blissful years of marriage had taught him one _invaluable, unwavering life lesson_ – _never_ argue with a woman, _regardless_ of how old she was! To do so was purely an act of lunacy, resulting in a loss of one's sanity _and_ an exercise in futility, seeing as how it would always escalate to a battle which the man could very rarely ever win!

"I guess it doesn't hurt for Phoenix to have as many allies in his corner as possible, especially at a time like this," he admitted, chuckling dolefully and putting an arm around the teen in a quick hug. "But if you end up getting busted, I'm going to claim that I had _no clue about anything_! Deal?"

Trucy smiled at her Uncle in that smug but sweet way all females tended to when knowing they'd bested the other (male) party in a particular battle of wits.

"I have no _objections_ to your _cluelessness_ , Uncle Gumshoe," she giggled, resting her hooded head on his shoulder. " _None whatsoever."_

_Besides, I love him too much to tell him that_ **_claiming to have no clue_ ** _will be much_ **_easier_ ** _and more_ **_believable_ ** _than he thinks!_

* * *

**_Apollo Justice and Kristoph Gavin_** _  
District Court Defendant  
Lobby Number 3  
_April 20, 2026, 9:37 AM

_It's really hard to maintain your reputation as The Coolest Defense in the West when your bumbling assistant cannot even be bothered to show up for his first day of court on time!_ Kristoph inwardly fumed, barely resisting the urge to begin tapping his foot to indicate his steadily growing impatience.

His protégé was _late_ , granted only by seven minutes, but considering Justice had said he would be there at 9:30, and the trial started in half an hour, this was hardly a good sign. He briefly wondered if Justice, who'd been a bundle of nerves regarding the last-minute case, had decided to chicken out at the eleventh hour.

No chance, he dismissed immediately. No employee of Kristoph Gavin's could ever be such a coward, and his assistant was too much of a people-pleasing eager beaver to give into such weakness. More than likely the overwhelmed young man had staggered into the wrong courtroom or had gotten delayed in traffic. Either way, he made mental note to give him a severe tongue lashing for his unprecedented tardiness when he finally did see him. Just as he was mentally rehearsing the lecture he would give the underlying, the German, at last, spotted the horny-fringed attorney rushing towards him, looking simultaneously winded and slightly faint. In an uncharacteristic moment of magnanimousness, the defense attorney decided to delay the reprimand and instead nodded curtly in greeting.

"Ah, good morning."

"Good morning, sir." Apollo quickly wiped his damp-looking palms off on his pants and flashed his boss a sickly grin.

"You look tense, Justice," Kristoph noted coolly, noting the younger man's twitching eye and damp forehead. "Wound up tight."

"W-Wound up, sir?" Apollo croaked. "No! I'm loose! I'm _fine!"_

"That screeching noise … Is that your voice?" Kristoph couldn't help but smirk. "I suppose it's to be expected. Your first trial, and it's a homicide. I guess _Justice_ doesn't start small, eh?"

" _I'm fine_!" Apollo insisted, however unconvincingly. "I got up at 5:00 AM to do my "Chords of Steel" voice workout! I'm _fine_!"

Kristoph kept his fixed smile in place, which completely belied the fact that his own stomach with knots, albeit for different reasons. Even though his ultimate goal was to get the proverbial pebble in his shoe, Phoenix Wright, locked up behind bars once and for all, the peremptory part of him still wanted his apprentice to at least _attempt_ to put up a good, strong front and at least _appear_ _competent_ , if not _confident,_ for his premier case representing Gavin Law Offices. Squawking like a parrot with laryngitis certainly did absolutely nothing to bolster the firm's image, any more than it did his own!

"Ah, that explains it." Kristoph decided to try to instill some confidence into the nerve-rattled young man to avoid his own embarrassment. "I did detect a certain rasping quality to your screech."

He pretended to ignore Apollo's subsequent coughing fit and continued.

"As you know, the client today is a good friend of mine. I wouldn't want you to let him down…if you get my drift."

"Drift gotten, sir!" The kid cleared his throat and straightened himself up to his full height. "I-I'm all over that drift!"

Kristoph barely stifled a sigh as he ruefully acknowledged the conundrum he was facing. If his apprentice did too good a job, it would result in his own criminal acts being brought to light, which would never do. But on the flip side, if he were to disastrously nose-dive, Kristoph's revered status as a mentor and overall illustrious name in the legal community would become _mud_. It steamed his best bet for coming out of this on top with his stellar reputation intact was to have his understudy appear to make a valiant effort at his defense for their client, uncovering the actual "truth of his guilt" along the way, and in the end, make a morally appropriate decision. It wasn't as though there was a whole lot Justice had to go on for defending his client, therefore he was pretty certain that despite a few glitches, his plan would still triumph in the end.

"As I told you before, I dined with him the night of the murder. We can't let this case fall through."

"Yes. Yes!" Apollo nodded earnestly. "I'm fine, sir!"

Kristoph nodded swiftly and turned to head into the courtroom. He had done what he could with his employee as far as pep talks went. The rest would be up to him. However, he still felt compelled to bequeath one final pearl of wisdom.

"One more thing. Don't say you're fine so much. People might take you the wrong way. I'll be preparing our case. You might want to introduce yourself to the client." A sardonic grin. "It appears that you are not the only one who was running late this morning."

The slight did dig not go unnoticed by his underling, whose horns drooped dejectedly. With that last comment, Kristoph left his assistant alone in the defendant's lobby so he could go over files.

Apollo stood there, letting his stomach tie itself in knots just as a man in a blue beanie and a hooded sweatshirt approached him.

At first, the defense attorney attempted to brush aside the nagging familiarity of the man – why did he seem so familiar even though he'd never seen him before? As the taller figure suddenly reached up to scratch at his hair beneath his, a familiar lock of spiky black hair popped out from under, which he hastily stuffed back into place as his impassive gaze met Apollo's at last, and that was when he knew who this was.

He was finally face-to-face with his childhood idol.

_This_ was Phoenix Wright – the proud, successful hero of his time – dressed in old, worn-out hand-me-downs; unshaven; disposition careless; unconcerned of his appearance. There was a very laid-back, dismissive air to him now; the lively spark was gone from his dark blue eyes and now appeared dull and hazy from fatigue. The man he was gawking at now hovered between untouchable and a grave disappointment; it was worse than he feared: the ex-lawyer had not only fallen from grace but appeared to have lost all will to climb back up. The longer he looked at his lifelong idol, the more he started to eat his own words he repeatedly uttered to Clay about said man's comeback, and the sadder it became to simply sit aside and watch the tragic nightmare further play out before his eyes.

A strange feeling of opia washed over him as he stared into the unreadable indigo orbs. Apollo was experiencing what could only be described as the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, but it left him feeling simultaneously invasive and vulnerable. He didn't know why, but as he looked into Phoenix's eyes, he saw immense pain behind the smirk slightly playing on the older man's lips. It didn't feel like he was pretending though; rather, he did all that because it was the only thing he knew. It was conflicting: Apollo felt like he was staring at both his idol and a total stranger. It was distinctly Phoenix, yet it wasn't.

Despite his casual appearance, which was a stark contrast to Apollo's business attire, standing before his longtime hero at last still gave the shaky young man and an undeniable sense of monachopsis. It didn't make sense, this subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place. He was wholly aware that it was downright ridiculous, as Phoenix Wright was no longer lawyer, yet he still felt as though _he_ was the one who didn't belong in these courtroom surroundings, while the older man, although dressed like a hobo, seemed completely at ease, as though he had never left.

Phoenix silently studied the young attorney carefully, ignoring the greenhorn's first few stammers.

So _this_ was Apollo Justice, in the flesh at long last. Or rather, as the only son of the late, great magician, Thalassa Gramarye's first husband, Jove (née Helios) Giustizia de Illumios Justice. Apollo Justice, née Giustizia de Illumios. _Giustizia_ was the Italian word for _Justice_ , which he surmised Thalassa had changed it to when she had given the boy up for adoption, as the surname was much more mainstream, not to mention an easier name for American pronunciation and society.

His sharp eyes scanned over the slightly sweaty, twitchy, but good-looking young man standing before him, searching for evidence of his Italian heritage and resemblance to his daughter, as her secret elder half-sibling.

Apollo Justice was of slight stature and build, no more than 5'5" beneath his red-vest business suit and white-collar shirt, which contrasted nicely against his lightly tanned skin, which the pianist surmised the boy had inherited as part of his father's Mediterranean ancestry. He was sweetly baby-faced, like Trucy, and had the same shade of brown hair as his sister, although his short hairdo was styled into two frontal spikes that stood above his high, prominent forehead, another trait he had undoubtedly inherited from Helios, along with his huge, wide-set eyes, which while shaped identically, and as heartfelt and innocent as his daughter's, unlike Trucy's cerulean orbs, inherited from their mother, her brother's Bambi eyes were earthen brown mixed with cinnamon cream, reminding him of old sepia photographs. As his nervous gaze met Phoenix's, there was a look of awed nervousness within them, mixed with the sincerity and uncertainty.

Apparently being in his presence made the young man feel slightly intimidated. It was touching, endearing, and amusing, all at the same time. He decided he liked Apollo at first sight and instinctively knew he'd been right to place his faith in him. Whatever the newbie attorney lacked in experience or skill, he'd more than atone for in eager willingness. Of this, Phoenix was certain. It was _"do or die"_ time now, and he was relying on the former.

"Morning." Phoenix saw no point in senseless frippery. "It's all up to you today."

The bluntness of the statement only earned him an expression of undeniable panic in return.

_First trial: nervous!_ Apollo thought wildly, wishing he could study his frantically hammering  
heartbeat. _Meeting **him** : **CARDIAC ARREST**!_

Intuitively sensing the red attorney's discomfort, Phoenix forced himself to slightly curve up the corners of his lips as he graciously inclined his head towards the lawyer.

"So you're…"

"Fine! I-I'm fine!" Apollo rasped, sounding as though he were being strangled by his tie. Phoenix couldn't help but chuckle slightly with amusement and couldn't resist ribbing him ever so slightly.

_Hey, how many opportunities to have a good guffaw do I get nowadays, anyway?_

"Ah…Mr. Fine, is it?" He deadpanned. "I _do_ seem to remember you having an odd name."

Apollo's nerves were at a peak, and he seemed to sense he was already screwing things up majorly. Phoenix took pity on the younger man and flashed him a sympathetic look, as if to say "fret not, I was once in your shoes too."

"Um…are you sure you're okay? I mean, with me?" Apollo asked anxiously. "Mr. Gavin is a top-notch attorney. And he's your friend! So why…?" His words trailed off as Phoenix's expression turned mysterious.

"…you'll see."

Apollo sensed the portentous sentiment behind that statement and gulped. Phoenix caught the action, and his somber countenance turned reassuring.

"You can do it," he said kindly. "Be confident."

Apollo just kept stammering incoherent ramblings, about how sorry he was regarding Phoenix's current plight until mercifully, the older man cut him off.

"It's time. Shall we?"

"Y-yes, sir," Apollo stuttered. Realizing that this was the first time he ever said those words to anyone other than his mentor, Apollo began to get a grip on his resolve as he entered the courtroom for the first time as a defense attorney.

_OK. I need to focus. First trial, here comes Justice!_

* * *

**_Apollo Justice and Kristoph Gavin  
_** _District Court  
Courtroom No. 2_  
April 20, 2026, 10:00 AM

At 10 o'clock, a very antsy Kristoph Gavin stood behind the defense's bench next to a _very_ _sweaty_ Apollo Justice. He of voice like Nails on Chalkboard, Prosecutor Winston Payne and the judge were both of their respective benches.

In contrast to his personal apprehensive state, the German couldn't help but coolly note that the most relaxed looking person in the room was Phoenix himself. He looked as in passive income posed as ever as he waited for the whole trial to commence, in sharp contrast to his own discomfiture, considering everything that was at stake. His apprentice wasn't doing anything to help matters, quickly embarrassing himself in front of the judge, causing the kindly old man to shake his head in his typical bewildered fashion.

"Ahem. Mr. Gavin?"

"Yes, Your Honor?"

"I was under the impression that you would be heading up this case…?"

"That _was_ my intention, yes," Kristoph responded dryly, but then wisely opted to soften his tone. "However…a defense attorney must always cede to his client's wishes. And my client specifically requested Mr. Justice."

"Well, of course, he wants justice!" the judge replied as if this were an obvious statement. "But to entrust his case to this greenhorn…Why? I do not exaggerate when I say that you're the best defense attorney in town, Mr. Gavin."

Kristoph couldn't help but preen slightly at having his ego stroked in such a satisfying manner.

As the drained and disheveled Phoenix then took the stand, there was a loud cacophony within the gallery as they took sight of him. The judge seemed genuinely unhappy to see the former attorney under such circumstances, although the prosecution appeared positively giddy.

"This is truly an unfortunate turn of events," the judge lamented. "I'm sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances. Long-time no see, Mr. Wright."

"Let's put the past behind us, shall we?" Phoenix shrugged. "These days I'm merely Phoenix Wright, piano player."

"I won't speak of it further, then," the old man agreed amicably. "If the prosecution would be so kind as to explain the charges. Mr. Payne?

"To think," squawked Mr. Payne. "I saw you enter this room a fresh attorney, and now I'll see you leave in chains."

"Ah, Winston Payne. Subtle as ever I see," Phoenix deadpanned.

"Ahem," Mr. Payne cleared his throat. "The crime occurred at the Borscht Bowl Club … a Russian restaurant. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, took the victim, a customer…and he hit him! Wham! On the head! Smack! Killed him cold!"

_There's no need to be so dramatic, Payne._ _Kristoph thought wryly as the prosecutor continued with his theatrical summary._ _I think we get the point._

His gaze slid over to his apprentice, who was positively drenched in perspiration. Frowning slightly, as his motto was _never let them see you sweat_ , Kristoph attempted to offer him a few more pointers to ease him and explained the poker game. Then, attempting to sound soothing, he abstractedly decided to use poetic verse in describing the "cards wreathed in blue flame" that the men used to play that fateful night.

Apollo nodded his understanding of everything Kristoph attempted to give them tutelage in and then proceeded to press his client on nearly every succinct statement he gave, and an eerily identical fashion to the way Phoenix himself had done back in his defense attorney days with witnesses. Despite his visible nerves, the young lawyer aptly made enough of the correct inquiries to extract the fact that despite the underground nature of the poker game, it was still a legal competition, as no actual betting money changed hands. The blond man couldn't help but feel an unexpected sense of pride at his assistant's diligence. Perhaps this wouldn't turn out so badly after all.

"This competition you're talking about..." The judge said slowly. "I believe the court understands the nature of the game sufficiently."

"Th-That's right!" Apollo squeaked. "It was a simple game, after all!"

"Are you sure?" The judge asked.

" _Huh_?" The defense attorney stared at the robed man blankly.

"People are not murdered over _simple games_ , Mr. Justice."

_Obviously,_ Kristoph smiled smugly to himself. _The judge has never before played Monopoly…_

"Defendant," the judge turned to his one-time favored defense lawyer. "You were in the room the very moment the crime occurred, yet you claim no connection to the crime?"

At this, the defendant gave his customary smirk, the very one which Kristoph had come to genuinely loathe with every fiber of his being, as exemplified that incomprehensible exuded smugness that made it look as though the disgraced other man was always one step ahead of the game.

"Now that's strange," the accused murmured.

"What's strange?" The judge looked baffled.

"I was testifying about the competition that night," Phoenix pointed out. "Asking me about the crime at this point is against the rules, Your Honor."

Now the judge looked completely dumbfounded. It had clearly slipped his mind that the bedraggled-looking witness on the stand had once been a very prominent Ace Attorney. Phoenix quirked a half-smile and raised a brow towards the defense bench.

"Of course," He drawled. "I expected to hear a cry of _Objection!_ from the defense…"

Apollo looked completely aghast by this subtle as a Mack truck critique from his idol, whilst Kristoph regarded him with grave concern, both for the sake of the young man's ego as well as the case outcome. He groaned inwardly.

_This is going to be a long day indeed…_

"Don't despair yet, Justice," he smiled encouragingly.

"S-Sir?" Apollo stammered, still completely unraveled. Kristoph decided it was time for him to take the reins and turned his attention towards his adversary.

"Wright, there's something I'd like made clear. Namely, your connection to the case at hand. And I'd like to hear it from you."

Phoenix paused only for a split second, but it was long enough for the perceptive defense attorney to catch the gleam in his eye, and it caused a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he cursed himself for having dismissed it as mere smug arrogance previously.

_That Hurensohn – he **knows**!_ Kristoph realized, drawing in a sharp breath. _He knows full well who really murdered "Shadi Smith" that night!_ He forced himself to take tranquil, even breaths. _No matter, though. There's nothing he can do about it! The fate of this rests on my protégé's rookie shoulders, after all. And I know my assistant will do right by me and unearth the lies, exposing this degenerate as the true murderer in an act of pure "justice."_

"Sure… Why not?" The hobo shrugged nonchalantly.

"Very well," the judge said. "The defendant will amend his testimony."

"I plead silence regarding the murder," the card shark stated flatly. "But I will say I never touched the murder weapon."

"Objection!" Shouted Apollo. "So you say you didn't touch the murder weapon…this grape juice bottle?... Right?"

"So I said," Phoenix replied calmly.

"Something the matter, Mr. Justice?" The judge asked.

"Hee, hee, hee," Mr. Payne cackled gleefully. "Too bad our new defense attorney never learned how to play dumb."

"What's this, Mr. Payne?" The judge demanded.

"I examined the bottle in question," Mr. Payne told the court. "And it was _covered with the defendant's fingerprints_!"

The courtroom stirred excitedly.

"OBJECTION!" Apollo yelled at full decibel, right near his mentor's ear. Kristoph winced slightly

_Note to self when resuming training of my assistant, after all, is said and done: Get him to learn the concept of an inside voice!_

"No need to shout, Mr. Justice!" The judge exclaimed. "I can hear you just fine!"

The rookie's face turned the same shade as his suit.

"Excess yelling can damage the judge's ears … and our case," Kristoph reprimanded mildly. His apprentice nodded, then continued.

"Any…Anyway! What's so strange about fingerprints on a bottle in a restaurant?" He demanded.

"Well, that's true," the judge conceded. "The prints alone don't prove he did it."

"Oh, they wouldn't prove a thing," Mr. Payne interjected. "If they were _normal_ fingerprints!"

"Huh!?" Exclaimed the horn-haired lad.

"But the fingerprints on the murder weapon were upside-down!" Mr. Payne shouted.

"Upside down?" Apollo wondered. "What does that mean?"

"It means he was holding the bottle inverted!" Mr. Payne snarled. "And there can only be one reason for that…Yes. _To brain someone with the bottle_."

"Auuuuuuuuuuuugh! M-Mr. Gavin!" Apollo wailed, looking distraught. "I think things just took a turn for the worse!"

"Oh?" Kristoph answered mildly. "I see no problem, Mr. Justice."

"Huh?" he said blankly.

"The only thing that matters is the truth," the German stated firmly. "There's a good reason for everything. You'll see."

"Defendant!" The judge yelled. "Can you explain your fingerprints on this bottle to the court!?"

"I stand by my plea of silence regarding the murder..." Phoenix responded in a monotone, pulling his beanie down over his eyes so they were hidden from view. " _For now_."

"Hmm … not very cooperative, are you? This could hurt your case," The judge warned.

"I'm sure he's uncooperative because he's hiding something!" Squealed Mr. Payne. "There must be some reason…"

_"Objection!"_ Kristoph interjected. "Your Honor. You seem to have forgotten something."

"And what might that be, Mr. Gavin?"

"On the night of the crime," he said smoothly. "Who was it who reported the murder to the police?"

"Reported…?" The judge echoed.

"Well, that was the defendant, Mr. Wright," admitted Mr. Payne. "But still, that..."

" _R-Really!?"_ The judge snapped.

"Erm, yes, well..." Mr. Payne looked as discombobulated as he sounded. "According to the case file…The murder was reported from the scene, by a call from the defendant's cell phone."

"Near the scene?" Queried Apollo.

"Let's take a look at the murder scene, shall we?" Mr. Payne pushed his glasses up his nose. "The victim was murdered in a small room in a basement two floors down from ground level. Of course, cell phones can't get reception so far down. The defendant used the stairs in this hallway to go above the ground…The call came from the first floor of the restaurant."

"I see…" The judge sounded thoughtful. "And this is the phone that made the call?"

"The defendant could have just fled the scene of the crime if he so chose," Kristoph pointed out. "Yet, he fulfilled his duty as a citizen and reported it to the authorities. And you claim he is being "uncooperative? "

_"Urk!"_ Was Mr. Payne's sole response.

"I think the prosecution has toyed with our client enough for the time being," the German declared.

"T-Toyed?" Mr. Payne stammered. "I assure you, no one is more serious about…"

"What was it you said?" Kristoph countered. "The defendant was allegedly in the room the very moment that the crime occurred. How can you possibly know this?"

"That's a good question!" Asserted the judge. "How indeed!"

"The answer is simple, Your Honor," Kristoph gave a knowing smirk. "The prosecution has a decisive witness."

"Hee, hee, hee," Mr. Payne chortled. "You're as good as they say you are."

Kristoph turned to his apprentice. "Everything up until now has been a warm-up, Justice. Are you ready?"


	126. Misguided Perceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Destiny is not a matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for – it is a thing to be achieved."

**_Phoenix Wright and Kristoph Gavin_** _  
District Court_  
 _Courtroom No. 2_  
April 20, 2026

"Very well," the judge announced. "The prosecution may call its first witness to the stand!"

A small, meek-looking blonde slowly made her way up to the stand. An old-fashioned film camera hung from her neck. On top of that, she was adorned in a fuzzy winter hat and a cobalt blue coat with white fur trim, over which she wore a white apron. On her shaky hands, which were carefully balancing a tray bearing a domed serving bowl, she wore pink mittens. As her huge, terrified eyes looked out at the court, she immediately began trembling and sunk below the witness stand.

"The witness will state her name and profession," stated Mr. Payne.

"H-hold on just a moment!" The judge suddenly looked baffled. "Where's the witness?"

"I surmise that she has been frightened by the defense's demonic-looking horns," crowed the reedy voiced prosecutor.

_Wow, you've really lived up to your potential, rat-boy!_ Phoenix barely repressed an eye-roll at the rodent-faced, chrome-domed DA as he glanced sympathetically at Apollo, whose horns sagged dejectedly at this entire unprecedented and asinine onslaught regarding his hairdo. _At least the young man actually **has** hair to style! Jealous much?_

"Have no fear!" The judge nobly declared. "If any horns point in your direction, the court will cut them off!"

"You…are…sure?" The witness squeaked.

"I swear it on my gavel!" The judge promised. "Please, come out."

"Isn't violence against hair a crime, Your Honor?" Apollo's horns drooped even further, like fallen radio antennae. The hobo couldn't help but admire this uncanny ability of the attorney. Not even _his_ _own_  
oft-remarked upon spikes could rise and fall on command in such a manner!

"Well, if you are sure it is OK…"

"Ahem," the judge cleared his throat. "Now, the prosecution…"

Just then, the witness whipped out her camera and took a photograph.

"W-W-Wait a minute!" The judge appeared flustered as the bright flashbulb went off in his face. "Would the prosecution care to explain the witness's…erm… _paraphernalia?"_

"Er…yes. She is a professional, Your Honor," Mr. Payne explained. "Those are merely the tools of her trade."

"And that would be…?"

The witness introduced herself at last.

"My name…is Olga Orly."

_Oh, really?_ Kristoph chortled to himself at the palpably fake as a three-dollar bill Slavic accent, which, naturally, unlike the other gullible humanoids in the courtroom, hadn't fooled _him_ for a minute! _If this dame here is Russian, then **I** am the pygmy Queen!_

"I am employed as waitress," the witness went on. "In Borscht Bowl Club restaurant."

"Then … why the camera?" The judge blinked, obviously still recovering from the blinding flash.

"Of course, it is my pride to serve borscht that is naming restaurant," Olga replied, as though this was an obvious fact. "But I also perform – how is it said? _Other_ _service_."

_Oh, I have **my personal theories** about what these **other services** may possibly be, and which more than likely make up for your other shortcomings as a server, **I'm sure!**_ Kristoph cynically sniggered to himself. _Pretty shifty though, seeing as how **Boris is a married man!**_ _I wonder if Natasha is privy to this **other service** Olga performs?_

"I take it one of these other services is taking the customer's pictures?" Asked the ever-unassuming judge, completely unaware of the defense attorney's lewd inner monologue.

"Dah, dah," Olga nodded. "Like, for example … this one."

As she spoke, she pulled a picture out of her coat pocket which depicted Phoenix on the night of the murder, seated at the piano bench, next to "Shadi Smith."

"Th-That's the defendant!?" The judge's eyes widened. He wasn't the only one who was caught unawares by the captured image.

Despite keeping his poker-faced intact, Phoenix was positively disconcerted at having been unsuspectingly caught on film in such a manner, as he had spent much of the last seven years trying to keep his wits about him at all times. After the nosy reporter, Spark Brushel had left the premises, he'd foolishly assumed he and Zak had been alone in that room.

_Sweet salivating salamanders! When did the discernably the craftier then she appears waitress take that picture? Moreover, why would she have done such a thing?_

"Indeed." Mr. Payne sounded more smug than usual. "On the night of the murder."

"Man in white hat…is one who has gone kaput," Olga confirmed staunchly.

"Indeed…" the judge murmured. "That _is_ the victim."

There was a lively stirring amongst the gallery at this announcement.

"Order! Order!" The judge pounded his gavel. "This is quite a piece of evidence to casually drop into our laps!"

"It is same way as I drop cold bowls of borscht on laps of customers…" Olga helpfully attempted to draw a parallel. _"Casually."_

_This only further confirms my theory that they hired you for neither your English-speaking skills nor your serving grace_ , Kristoph added sardonically. _So the question of course is, **what** the **hell** reason **did** they hire you for at that frigid, hole in the wall establishment then?!_

"Hmm…Then the court will _casually_ accept this new evidence." The judge determined.

"Now, witness, where were you at the time of the murder?" Inquired Mr. Payne.

"I was in room. The Hydeout, we call it."

"Excuse me?" Apollo asked dimly. " _The Hydeout_?"

"It is room where famous gangster _'Badgai'_ was arrested. Is room where murder took place," Olga said simply.

Upon hearing this, Apollo's miracle motion spikes somehow managed to simultaneously stiffen _and_ raise themselves _even_ _higher_ on his head as he visibly recoiled at this bombshell.

Kristoph barely resisted the urge to facepalm at his employee's overly animated reflexive antics.

_If I've told him **once** , I've told him **a thousand times** to always **keep his cool** , at least **on the surface,** no matter **how badly** you're shaken up **internally**!_ He silently screamed. **_When_** _, in any of my teachings, have I **ever** told Justice that it was alright for him to **completely lose**_ _his **visible composure** and assume the expression of **an autistic monkey?!**_

Olga smiled winsomely as she snapped a photo of the younger defense attorney's comical expression.

"Your look of utter surprise … It is lovely," she tittered. "I will post by courtroom door later for you! Dah, dah, photos will be numbered, and you will write which ones you want copies of."

Apollo had quickly recovered from his look of shock, replaced by one of deep speculation as he pressed his index finger so hard against his forehead, Kristoph was certain he would leave a _permanent dent_ behind. Finally, he thumped both fists down onto the bench before him, like a primitive caveman, and eyed the waitress with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Very well. Witness! You will testify to the court about that night's events." The judge commanded.

The witness began her testimony.

"That night, customer asked me to deal cards for game."

"It was cold…Both players with hats on, dah."

"The victim, he plays whole time with his hand on locket at his neck."

"Then, last hand is done! But something terrible has happened, dah!"

"That man flew at victim, and is strangling him to death!"

Phoenix goggled at Olga in utter disbelief as the waitress continued speaking, but the blonde refused to meet his confused, questioning stare and timidly slunk down once again behind the witness stand.

At this point, he knew he shouldn't have been surprised by _anything_ or _anyone_. Nonetheless, the sharp feeling of confusion and betrayal still stung him deeply at the unjust and glaring falseness of the testimony. _This_ was his thanks for trying to _save Olga's life,_ as he'd tried to act as quickly as humanly possible when Zak had unprecedentedly attacked her?!

He'd barely crossed paths with Olga at work before that fateful night, so he knew of no cause for her to despise him to the point of _perjury_. What _possible reason_ could the waitress have to try to frame him for the murder and lying about witnessing the crime, when she'd been knocked unconscious the entire time?

_Evidently, she came to even sooner than I realized…_ The pianist gathered, the wheels in his brain frantically turning as he tried to establish the blonde's motives. _At this point, I can only assume it was a combination of her being traumatized that Zak could've killed her after his outraged violent outburst that the scam didn't work? Obviously, since he died shortly after assaulting her, there's a chance Zak didn't pay her for her services that night so she's ticked off about being swindled out of whatever promised riches were owed to her and wants to make sure that I bear the brunt of her being slighted!_

His mind raced.

_But I wonder if there's more to it than that… My magatama isn't going off, so she's not **willingly lying** about this. Is it that she **genuinely** seems to think I **was** actually **strangling Zak**? Could it be there's also a slight possibility that a small part of her mind has originally blocked out the part where she'd been assaulted?_

"Hmm…" The judge looked thoughtful. "Incidentally, who won the game?"

For some reason, the simple query made the blonde hesitate slightly but fortunately for her, Mr. Payne quickly interjected.

"Isn't it _obvious?"_ He snorted. "The winner was the victim … Mr. Smith!"

_"Objection!"_ Shouted Apollo. "That's ridiculous!"

Four sets of stunned, questioning eyes turned to stare at the red attorney: Olga's, the judge's, the prosecutor's, even Phoenix's. The young man flushed under their scrutiny.

"Um, because…" Apollo cleared his throat and confidently pointed an accusing finger at Olga. " _Mr. Wright can't lose!"_

_You've **got** to be **kidding** me!_ Kristoph groaned inwardly. _My apprentice has chosen **this exact moment** to go **all Phoenix Wright fanboy** on us?!_

Dead silence met his loyal outburst.

"Ahem. Justice?" Kristoph somehow managed to flash a serene smile despite his gritted teeth. "Maybe you can come up with a more _legitimate_ objection?"

_"But!"_ Apollo protested. "He hadn't _lost_ in _seven years_!"

Kristoph barely stifled an exasperated sigh. He had no idea how to respond to this banality.

"Take it from me, kid," Mr. Payne inserted. "It happens. I didn't lose a case my first seven years as a prosecutor, either."

_You've certainly more than made up for lost time!_ Phoenix miraculously somehow kept a straight face upon hearing this. _You never were able to defeat me **once** in all my years as an attorney!_

Unknown to the pianist, across the room at the defense bench, Kristoph was having similar musings himself.

_Luckily I'm too big a man to point out the obvious glaring counterattack to that asinine defense!_ The German shook his head despairingly at the screechy prosecutor. _You **do** realize, Payne, that you also haven't **won** **a case** for your last seven years, **either** , don't you?_

"Incidentally. I have some evidence here," Mr. Payne continued. "These are the poker chips as they lay the very moment of the crime. The hand and chips on this table side belonged to the victim, Mr. Smith."

"Chips, you say?" The judge inquired.

" _Dah_. Er…I mean, _yes!"_ Mr. Payne corrected quickly. "Imagine that poker is war…Your hand is your army, and the chips are the spoils."

"I _know_ all about that!" The judge boasted. "After all, in my youth, I was known as … the _Poker Head of Courtroom No. 3!"_

Once again, Phoenix managed to keep a straight face, but only just barely. He cast a surreptitious gander at both members of the defense counsel, and while Kristoph's lips twitched ever so slightly, Apollo was flat-out shaking his head at the misnomer.

"Hmm…" the judge continued, blushing slightly as he realized his error. "Looking at this picture…it does seem that most of the chips are on the victim's side of the table. Very well. The defense may cross-examine the witness."

_Cross-Examination_

"That night, customer asked me to deal cards for game."

"It was cold…Both players with hats on, dah."

"The victim, he plays whole time with his hand on locket at his neck."

"Then, last hand is done! But something terrible has happened, dah!"

"That man flew at victim, and is strangling him to death!"

_"Objection!"_ Cried Apollo. "Oh really? ' _Strangled'_ , you say. That's _odd_."

"Dah!" Olga nodded earnestly. "Normal customers only choke on borscht."

"No." With surprising sureness in his voice, the young man referenced the autopsy report in his hand. "I mean, this report shows that the victim died _of a blow to the head_!"

" _Aaack_!" The waitress screeched.

"Ms. Orly!" Apollo forcefully thudded his fists down the defense bench before affixing her with his signature courtroom pointer finger and an unblinking stare. " _Really_ now … _did you witness the crime!?"_

_"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"_ Was Olga's cowering response.

The courtroom buzzed excitedly.

Out in the gallery, his former Detective instincts in full throttle, Gumshoe's eyes narrowed suspiciously in the waitress's direction, while Trucy only looked panicked.

"She's _lying,_ Uncle Gumshoe!" The teen wailed, yanking at his sleeve as her unnerved eyes swiveled between the Police Chief and the witness stand. "I _know_ she is! She's trying to wrongfully accuse Daddy! _Why_ is that awful woman trying to put my Daddy in jail for something he _didn't_ do?!"

" _Shhh_ …" Gumshoe placed an arm around the frantic girl in an effort to soothe her. "Calm down, sweetie, your Daddy has a very good lawyer. It will be alright."

_I hope…_ He added silently.

Back in the courtroom, the judge appeared to be in deep thought.

"Hmm… Looking at the picture, it doesn't seem like he was hit. He's still wearing his hat and everything."

"Yet it is a fact that he was hit, Your Honor," replied Mr. Payne. "Here's a photo we took of the victim with his hat off during the investigation." The prosecutor then proceeded to present a postmortem picture of Shadi Smith.

Kristoph swallowed back a triumphant, gleeful cackle at the sight of his longtime nemesis's expression, forever frozen on his lifeless countenance, his enormous, bulbous bare skull gleaming beneath the gristly crimson stream trickling down his forehead.

"Well, that's quite shocking isn't it?" The judge's eyes were saucers upon seeing the photo. "This _head_ certainly _was_ hit."

"B-But…! I have seen it happen!" Olga insisted. "The defendant, he lunge at victim, his neck…"

Kristoph couldn't have been more elated by the woman's stubborn persistence that his enemy was the culprit. His protégé had put up a great defense thus far, but there was no refuting an eyewitness testimony. It looked as though Phoenix Wright was as good as declared guilty now. He turned his head to glimpse at Apollo, expecting the greenhorn to appear apprehensive, as this realization surely must have struck _him_ as well. Instead, he found the red attorney to be standing there looking surprisingly composed as he crossed his arms and smirked knowingly at the waitress.

_"Justice,"_ The German cautioned warily. "I admire your enthusiasm, but perhaps you should think this one through more."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Apollo's confident expression switched into one of complete befuddlement as he looked at his mentor. "I found a contradiction!"

"There's _one more thing_ in her testimony that…troubles me," Kristoph warned him quietly.

"What is it?" Apollo asked, his confused expression deepening.

"You'll see." Pursing his lips, Kristoph turned away from him then.

"Very well," the judge nodded. "It seems we should continue the cross-examination."

_Cross-Examination continued._

"The victim, he plays whole time with hand on locket at his neck."

"Objection!" shouted Apollo, pressing his deeply contemplative pointer finger against his forehead once again.

"Mr. Apollo, would you care to explain what it is you're thinking so intensely about?" Demanded the judge.

"Recall, the testimony, Your Honor," Apollo explained. "The victim played with his ' _hand on locket at his neck_ ', I believe she said?"

"I hope you aren't about to raise an objection to the witness's grammar!" Mr. Payne piped up indignantly.

_Mein Gott!_ Kristoph closed his eyes and pushed his glasses up with his finger as he blew out a disgusted breath. _You **do** realize that people just **tolerate** you, Payne?_ He then cast a suspicious glance at his underling. **_Please_** _tell me that **wasn't** what you were objecting to, Justice…_

"No, but look at this photograph," Apollo pointed to the submitted evidence in the court record. "Do you _see_ a _locket_ on the _victim's_ neck?"

"Well done, Apollo." There was genuine admiration in Kristoph's voice. "I'm impressed. I knew you'd be able to handle this."

Truthfully, he _really_ hadn't known this at all! In all actuality, the blond man was _really_ doing was grinding _his teeth_ about the fact that this trial had thus needlessly been dragged on even further, due to the _sudden, unanticipated, astuteness_ of his assistant, but he couldn't very well say _that_ out loud, _could_ he?

"B-but what does it mean?" Asked Apollo, still confused about the details of the mystery he'd unraveled.

"If we are to believe the witness's testimony as-is…" The judge began slowly. "Then the locket "disappeared" following the victim's death."

"Lockets don't just _disappear,_ Your Honor!" Apollo burst out, his pointer finger already jamming into his forehead.

"It's quite simple when you think about it," Kristoph explained patiently. "If the locket is gone, someone must have taken it off, no?"

"Taken it off…?" Apollo's eyes lit up as the realization suddenly dawned on him. "Wait, you don't mean…!"

_I got it now._ The pianist was uncertain of whether or not to be relieved or agitated. **_That's_** _why I couldn't see any psyche locks on Olga when she was claiming I strangled the victim. In her disoriented state, as she was regaining consciousness, she honestly thought she witnessed me strangling Zak when I was, in actuality, taking the locket **off** of him! Granted, it makes her seem less suspicious for suspecting me, but this certainly **does** put me in **quite** a spot now, as soon as the defense figures this out…_

"The defendant wasn't strangling the victim at all. He was taking off his locket!" Kristoph elaborated to the court. "Wouldn't that explain it?"

Phoenix cursed inwardly as he frantically wracked his mind for a feasible explanation regarding this _one glaring piece of evidence,_ which if discovered, would _undoubtedly tie him_ to the _true identity_ of the murder victim.

"Aah!" A look of understanding crossed the judge's face.

"Urk?" Mr. Payne uttered.

The DILF ensured his mien was an unreadable mask as he waited patiently for what he knew was coming.

"Defendant!" The judge finally cut through the pregnant pause. "What do you have to say to this?"

Inexpressive indigo eyes steadily met the confused dark ones behind the judge's bench, and there was another tense silence.

"Say…" The old man began awkwardly.

"Yes?" Phoenix remained as cool as a cucumber.

"I just noticed this, but…" The judge's voice was distinctly uncomfortable now. " _You_ have _something_ hanging around _your_ neck, don't you?"

"Oh? You mean _this_?" The card shark casually gestured towards the locket hanging around his neck. "Yes, it's a locket…with a photograph inside."

He allowed the ghost of a smile to play across his lips.

"A photo…of my daughter."

A loud, collective gasp sounded across the gallery.

_"C-Come again?"_ Stammered Apollo, ridiculous primate impersonation fully in place yet again, upon hearing what was astounding news to him.

"Mr. Wright!" The judge's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. " _You_ have a _daughter!?"_

_If I weren't on trial for murder and fighting for my life here_ , Phoenix thought wryly. _I **suppose** a small part of me could be **somewhat** affronted by the fact the concept of me having potentially mated and sired offspring is so positively **dumbfounding** to people!_

"We confirmed it at the time of the arrest," Mr. Payne informed them. "The picture in the locket _is_ indeed Mr. Wright's daughter."

Apollo looked pensive, his famous thinking finger once again jabbing against his forehead.

"Well now," the judge seemed eager to change subjects. "If the results of this poker game led to the murder…Perhaps we should hear a bit more about the outcome of this game?"

"Further testimony won't really be necessary." Mr. Payne stated loftily. "It's clear that the defendant lost. _Badly_."

The witness beamed at the district attorney, looking far too relieved at the potential reprieve for the judge's liking. He shook his head in dissent.

"Ms. Orly!" He barked. "You will testify to the court about the game played between the victim and the defendant!"

"D-Dah…" Olga mumbled, beginning to tremble once more, as if on command.

The blonde then testified about the game itself, and Apollo wasted no time quickly doing the math in his head and ascertaining the inaccuracies with regards to the _chip_ count.

Kristoph momentarily put aside the intended outcome of the case and found himself smiling with genuine pride at how well his diligent student had flourished under his keen tutelage. It also gave him great pleasure to see how _antsy_ and _perspiration drenched_ Mr. Payne was becoming as Apollo began to further pressure the waitress.

Olga was visibly rattled, but she managed to declare that there'd been cheating involved, and attested to such. As she did so, Apollo seemed to have his thinking cap on in high gear as he turned to his mentor.

"Um…Mr. Gavin?" He asked sheepishly. "What's a full house?"

Kristoph sighed. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that his still _wet_ _behind the ears_ assistant didn't know the first thing about poker! After explaining to the boy about a full house, the Judge and Mr. Payne seemed to make it their personal missions to educate and further inundate Apollo with poker information throughout the cross-examination, as well. By the time the three men were done schooling the red attorney, the poor, overwhelmed kid looked as though he wished he'd never asked about the damn game in the first place!

The blonde came across as credibly faint-hearted in her testimony, but of course, to a professional like Kristoph, who had a built-in radar for such malarkey, she was as transparent as a newly washed window. The waitress was so unconvincing in spinning her web of attempted deception as she spoke about _Phoenix's attempted cheating_ that even his greenhorn sidekick could sense it. At one point, Apollo leaned over and whispered in his boss's ear.

"Something's just not right here Mr. Gavin! I understand that I didn't know a whole lot about poker, and you had to dumb it down and explain it all to me in a brief nutshell, but there's _something_ amiss here! I just know it!"

"I support your theory, Justice," Kristoph murmured supportively. "And I agree with you wholeheartedly. Don't you worry, we'll expose her for the fraud she is!"

Olga continued with her ridiculous storytelling regarding the incorrect number of aces that had been present in the cards that night until finally, the exasperated German requested an examination of the cards themselves. Payne obliged, and Apollo asked to see the victim's hand. When he did, the blond man did a double-take.

_What's this?! Most of these cards are **red**?! Did I somehow … No, impossible! There is absolutely **no way** that **I** , of all people, could be so **careless…**_

Kristoph was jolted from his nerve-wracking train of thought as _Mr. I Have No Indoor_ _Voice_ _Justice_ suddenly let out a startled cry – once again _right_ by his ear!

"Your Honor! One of the backs _has a different color!"_

"Th-That's impossible!" Olga spluttered. "I put that card in Wright's hand…Ack!" Her face visibly paled as she clapped a mittened hand over her mouth.

_Game over!_ Kristoph's lips curved upward into a cruel smile. _I've got you now, lady! How I'm going to **relish** having you **pinned down** like a **bug to a wall**!_

"What was that, Ms. Orly?" He demanded harshly.

"No!" The waitress shrieked, huge eyes round with dismay. "Ny-Nyet! Er, I merely said, eh…Dah, I have, eek!"

"Your Honor?" Kristoph turned to the judge

"M-Mr. Gavin, yes?"

"Tell me," the defense attorney asked smoothly. "What is the easiest way to cheat at poker?"

"To…cheat?" The judge echoed, with his customary look of confusion.

"I'll tell you," Kristoph smirked. "One merely needs a friend, a 'comrade', shall we say… _The dealer!"_

"Ah…Ah!" At last, it appeared the judge finally comprehended the situation

"Wait…" Apollo's hazel eyes lit up as he too grasped the situation. "So you mean…This witness…Ms. Orly…"

"She's the cheater," Kristoph's tone was as cold and accusing as his glare which he now directed towards the witness. "A professional, I'd wager."

" _Nyeeeeeeaaaargh_!" Olga screeched in horror.

The courtroom gallery went into a mini uproar.

Seated amongst the spectators, Gumshoe flashed a reassuring smile at the magician sitting next to him, who up until that moment, had been gripping his hand so tightly throughout the trial, he'd wondered if he still had any circulation remaining within it!

"See? I _told_ you that your Daddy would be all right, kiddo!" He beamed at Trucy. "Apollo Justice is one _hell_ of a lawyer! Phoenix is in _very_ good hands!"

"It serves her right that they gave her enough rope to hang herself with!" Trucy crossed her arms across her chest and scowled at the visibly agitated server. "Dirty, rotten, lying _cheat,_ trying to frame _my Daddy_ like that! Shame on her!"

"Order! Order!" The judge had to shout over the roaring din to make himself heard.

"Your Honor." Apollo consulted his notes. "Please recall the testimony we have _just heard!"_

_"Th-That's impossible!" Olga had spluttered. "I put that card in Wright's hand…Ack!" Her face visibly paled as she clapped a mittened hand over her mouth._

"…Therefore!" Apollo yelled. "Ms. Olga Orly _conspired to cheat_ , _not with my client_ …but _with the victim_ , Mr. Shadi Smith!"

Kristoph smiled smugly as everything unfolded. This was working out almost better than he could have planned.

_"Ooooooogh!"_ Olga let out a soft whimper.

"Whaaaaaaaaat!?" The stricken Mr. Payne recoiled sharply, looking as though he were about to faint from shock.

"Not only did she cheat…" Apollo glowered at the witness. "She cheated _poorly!_ Therefore, it's not hard to imagine an altercation between her and the victim!"

"Whaaaaaaaaat!?" At this point, the prosecutor had gone from _shocked_ to flat-out _gobsmacked, unintelligibly blathering **idiot**!_

"Wait!" The judge blinked. "You don't mean…The defense isn't accusing the witness, Ms. Olga Orly…are you?"

"… I most certainly am." Apollo's arm shot right out as he pointed his accusing finger at the quivering waitress. "The defense accuses the witness, Ms. Olga Orly, of _murder!"_

_"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"_ With this being the last sound that escaped her shaky lips, the waitress's face drained of all color then, and she collapsed into a dead faint.

"Mr. Payne," the judge inquired mildly, after the waitress's unconscious body was taken away, as though he hadn't seen a thing. He was unfazed by the observed theatrics, which was _a cakewalk_ compared to all the countless shenanigans he had seen in his many decades behind the bench. " _Where_ is your witness, Ms. Olga Orly?"

"Erm," Mr. Payne sounded nervous. "It appears she has lost, eh, consciousness, Your Honor."

"Hmm…" The judge replied noncommittally. "Mr. Justice?"

"Your Honor?" Apollo held his breath.

"It seems you've presented a new possibility to the court," the judge affirmed. "One suggesting a connection between the witness and the victim, Mr. Smith."

"And that means…!?" Apollo was now breathless with anticipation.

"This court cannot pronounce a verdict for the defendant at this time!" The judge declared.

Kristoph began a last-minute change of plans in his head.

_While this isn't the outcome I was gearing are hoping for, but all things considered, what do I care if some worthless waitress turned it failed card shark dealer gets arrested and takes the fall for the crime that I committed? The bane of my existence, Zak Gramarye, is still dead, my protégé will win his first case for Gavin Law Offices, **I'm** off the hook… And will have **literally gotten away with murder**. It doesn't make a difference to me if I delay the inevitable punishment for Phoenix Wright **just a little bit longer**. I can't say I haven't been enjoying myself immensely, pulling at the strings and playing puppet master with his pathetic existence…_

_"Nnk!"_ Screeched Mr. Payne, whose unhinged jaw had still yet to be scraped off the floor from its last dropping. _"What?"_

"I see no point in prolonging the trial this day." The judge pounded his gavel and affixed the prosecutor with his most withering stare. "The prosecution will need to make further inquiries…"

Apollo looked positively jubilant at this announcement, and Kristoph was nearly giddy with relief and glee himself...Right up until he heard a familiar, heart-sinking sound, which made the blood freeze in his veins.

_"Objection!"_

Trucy's heart leaped in her chest, as did Gumshoe's. They both were all-too-familiar with that holler and were the only ones in the courtroom who were _not_ surprised by the source of it.

Phoenix had once again resumed his place at the witness stand, that _repugnant, smug smile_ of his playing upon his lips. Kristoph's icy blue eyes shot daggers as he glared hatefully at the man.

"M – Mr. Wright?" Apollo stammered, looking bewildered.

The beanie wearer ignored his defense and kept his head tilted down so that his face was hidden from the court, although his words were still heard loud and clear.

"You can't end the trial here, your Honor. Not yet."

_Put a sock in it, Wright!_ Kristoph was positively seething although he made sure his outward countenance was fully composed.

"What nonsense is the defendant spewing now?" Mr. Payne was beyond flummoxed, as well as sweating buckets. Had Kristoph not been so shaken at this sudden turn of events, he would have offered _the_ _human WetNap_ of a man his handkerchief.

_Or…a **mop** …_

"Think. One of the cards has a different colored back." Phoenix's unwavering gaze studied the courtroom. "Don't you wonder what that means?"

_"Objection!"_ Mr. Payne's shrill voice rang through the court. "Wh-what are you doing, Mr. Wright? Raising objections right when you're about to get off the hook? Ridiculous!"

_Listen to **Mr. Ouchy** , Wright._ Never before had Kristoph ever wished so hard that _looks_ _could **literally** kill._ Had that been the case, his nemesis would've been shark bait by this point! _Best **quit while you're ahead** if you **know what's good for you** …_ **_Ekelhaft!_** _Why is the judge grinning like an idiot at all this?!_

"Mr. Payne…" The judge drawled, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, looking not at all displeased with this outcome. " _You_ of all people should know that Mr. Wright has a _talent_ … for the ridiculous!"

At hearing this, a smarmy smile flickered across the ex-King of the Turnabout's lips, which he directed first at the judge… And then directly at _Kristoph_ , who was _completely fuming_ at this point! He felt his chest tightening into a knot, like a cramp, as the mounting rage within him began to build. Heaving breaths of incensed hatred were rapidly being expelled from his lips in sharp, ragged pants.

Phoenix noticed his _good friend's_ reaction, and his infuriating response was to smile even more broadly in return, threatening Kristoph's rapidly rising blood pressure to hit the roof right there and then!

The German's rage only further increased when the judge amiably agreed that perhaps it would be best to get to the bottom of things to ascertain what had actually transpired on that fateful night, and with a nod of his head, the former attorney went on to further elaborate about the two _red card decks_ that had been used and at some point, one of them had to have been swapped. After a while, he finally halted in his testimony and gazed directly into the eyes of the red attorney.

"I'd like to hear what Apollo thinks," he stated quietly. "When do _you_ think the cards were swapped?"

Apollo looked near faint with anxiety, and Kristoph could practically hear the gears shifting in his understudy's nubile young brain. The German man hoped, somewhat pitifully, he knew, that he'd overestimated the younger man's capabilities, and that he would get the answer wrong.

Kristoph had already morphed from cursing _Phoenix Wright_ six ways from Sunday to calling _himself_ every name in the book for his carelessness! He _still_ couldn't believe his rotten luck!

_How could I have been so damn stupid as to put the wrong color card back in the deck?!_

After what seemed like forever, and Kristoph was sure his heart was going to explode inside his chest, Apollo seemed to have come to his conclusion. His gaze was steady and sure as he answered his client's question.

"Perhaps it happened … after the murder?"

_"Objection!_ That's ridiculous! What's the point of cheating after the hands have been shown? That's silly!" Mr. Payne looked as confused as a fart in a fan factory about how the rookie had come to that deduction.

_"Objection!"_ The greenhorn countered. "Yes! But tell me … how do you swap cards during the game? I'd take silly over impossible."

_Thatta boy, Apollo!_ Phoenix grinned at him. _I knew you'd figure it out! I can see your confidence building with every passing minute! Although it seems **your mentor** is less pleased with this than **I** am…_

His amused gaze slid over to the slightly shaken Kristoph, who appeared distinctly uncomfortable, looking as though he desperately needed to _pass gas_!

_Ah well, if that's the case, **let** him suffer holding it in then!_ The spiky-haired man chuckled ruthlessly to himself. _Although at this point, Kristoph would be doing the whole world a big favor if he did **spontaneously combust!**_

"Take it from me son," Mr. Payne addressed Apollo in an almost fatherly fashion. "There's _a lot_ of _silly_ in this world…"

_I do believe your generation referred to these individuals as **The Gay,** Winston._

At this point, Phoenix was having a blast _,_ although he supposed he was somewhat grateful nobody could read his train of somewhat juvenile and completely undignified thoughts!

"…But very little _impossible."_

The courtroom went into a standstill as everyone present mulled over the veracity of Winston Payne's surprisingly articulate statement…until Apollo dragged everybody back to reality.

"Oh? Even when the backs of the cards are a different color? If you pulled that during a game, you'd be caught in no time!"

The courtroom was buzzing like a swarm of bees. Kristoph was regarding his apprentice in an entirely different light now, amazed at how grossly he'd underestimated him. Apollo Justice was no longer a rookie attorney who in over his head. He was an ingenuous, fledgling attorney well on the rise…who now posed a _very_ _genuine threat_.

Phoenix was officially having the time of his life! He knew he had the case in his hands at this point, and that he just needed to give just a bit of steering aid to help guide the wholly capable young man in the right direction.

"A simple, decisive question must be asked." The pianist cocked a half-smile in Apollo's direction as he then posed the next loaded question. " _Who_ swapped a red card for a blue card?"

"Wh-who?" Apollo inquired cautiously, his new-found confidence seeming to waver. The German's heartbeat quickened as a glimmer of hope search through him. He _had_ to capitalize on that if he was going to sway the young man to think in his mentor's favor. And he had to do it _fast_.

Kristoph's throat was dry and his voice was hoarse as he stared beseechingly at his apprentice, silently begging him to alter his course of logic, although the German could already see it was an exercise in futility, as Apollo wasn't looking anywhere but into the reassuring eyes of Phoenix Wright for guidance now.

"The game and murder is over and done. The victim is dead. Only two remain in the room. _Alive,_ that is. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, and our witness, Olga Orly."

"The one who swapped the cards wasn't Mr. Wright, of course," Apollo determined, jutting his chin, much to Kristoph's great chagrin. "And, well, it doesn't seem like it could have been Olga Orly, either…"

"Wh-What are you suggesting then!?" The judge was baffled.

"That's hardly a logical conclusion, I'll admit," Kristoph told his employee. "However, as the defense, I think _it only makes sense_ for you to name _Ms. Orly_ at this point."

He was sorely hoping his stealthy manipulation of the circumstances and his lofty declaration of the culprit as _fact_ , rather than _speculation_ , would be accepted as such by his normally naïve protégé, but it seemed as though Apollo had cast all his self-doubts aside and was going to veer on the previously uncharted path of _purely_ _independent thought_ now.

"Yes, yes, I know!" Apollo dismissed, with more than a trace of belligerence. Kristoph's heart sank. "But…But _she_ was the one who dealt the cards, right? I…I just can't believe _she_ would make the mistake of swapping the wrong color card!"

"And if the card was swapped _during_ the game, it'd be _obvious_ …" the judge noted, to no one in particular.

"Heh," Phoenix chuckled mirthlessly. It was a loud and distinct sound that was unmistakably audible across the hushed courtroom. "Heh heh heh heh."

Apollo stared at his idol as though he'd acquired a second head. After all, Phoenix hadn't gotten off the hook for murder _just yet._ So could _possibly_ be so darn funny?

Kristoph felt his spirits sink even further. Was his adversary _literally_ getting the last laugh, after all?

"Something you'd like to share with the court, Mr. Wright?" The judge asked, clearly as lost about the cause of mirth as everybody else.

"Oh, my apologies, Your Honor," Phoenix responded with a devilish glint in his eye. "I was just thinking about how much _fun_ all this is."

_"Objection!"_ Screamed Mr. Payne.

The high-pitched falsetto startled Kristoph with its intensity. Between his assistant and the screechy prosecutor, the latter of whom he'd momentarily forgotten was even in the room, the German was certain his ears would _never_ fully recover from the abuse they had suffered after that day!

_"Fun!?"_ Scoffed the reed-voiced prosecutor. "How about _confusing!?_ I have _no ide_ a what the defense is claiming, Your Honor! If the one who swapped the cards wasn't the defendant, and it wasn't Ms. Orly … Then who was it!?"

"Er, yeah…" Apollo flushed slightly and awkwardly scratched the top of his head adorably. "Well, that _is_ the question, isn't it?"

"Precisely," Phoenix deadpanned.

"Huh?" Apollo studied him blankly.

A mysterious smile flickered across the hobo's stoic features.

"I believe we're about to see this case take…a new direction."

"A new direction?" Repeated the judge.

Phoenix nodded.

"We'll find that, indeed, after the murder…someone swapped one of the cards in the victim's hand." The ex-attorney raised his head then, and his intense eyes peered directly into Kristoph's, who for the first time in his life, was the first one to look away. "And that someone made _two critical mistakes_."

"I'm sure you're going to tell us that the first was swapping the wrong color card," Kristoph whispered thickly.

"Indeed I am," Phoenix smirked. "Because the one who did the swap didn't know the two colors of the cards being used. The other mistake…was the _number_ on the card."

"Right," Apollo bobbed his head in agreement. "The person replaced the fifth ace with a king."

"I'm sure whoever swapped it wasn't expecting there to be a fifth ace, after all. All they knew was that the game had been won with a full house. So they picked up a king from the table, and swapped it in."

_"Objection!"_ Squealed Mr. Payne. "B-But! There's one problem! According to our case record, this person doesn't exist!"

_Well, he's here, right in this courtroom, and his goose is about to be cooked._ Kristoph swallowed hard _. Unless of course, I'm misreading Phoenix Wright, and there **isn't** a **damn good reason** he's wearing such a **despicably cocksure expression** on that mug of his right now…_

"True," the defendant drawled. "That, is, not until _now_. But you have to admit the possibility of a fourth person. Though it's more than a _possibility_. There _was_ someone else there that night at the scene of the crime."

"Wh-Whaaaaaaaaaat!?" Mr. Payne caterwauled at another ear-splitting decibel.

Kristoph seriously wondered how the older man didn't have _laryngitis_ at this point! He clenched his jaw as he stared across the room into his foe's composed gaze.

"I believe the judge spoke truthfully earlier." The defense attorney's voice was pure ice, even as he forced a thin smile to flicker across his face. "You _do_ make trials… _ridiculous_ , Mr. Wright."

"That's my pal!" Gumshoe grinned in the gallery, lightly nudging Trucy in the ribs. "Ridiculous is his trademarked game! It's what he does best!"

The teenager only giggled softly in response, although her captivated gaze never wavered from her father.

"This trial has proceeded on one central assumption." The judge pounded his gavel, shaking his head. "Namely, that, at the time of the incident, there were only three people in the room."

"I believe this new evidence…" the accused smiled benignly at the judge. "Shall we say…overturns that assumption?"

The reprimanding judge sternly regarded at the pianist.

"The _problem_ is that you chose to conceal this information from the court!"

The recipient of the warning glare responded with his best shit-eating grin in the old man's direction, making the exasperated magistrate then look like he didn't know whether or not to _smile back_ or _whack_ the erstwhile attorney over thehead _with his gavel!_

"I suppose that is a problem, yes," Phoenix agreed blithely, neither appearing apologetic nor concerned with his faux pas.

"Very well!" The judge decreed. "Court is adjourned for a brief recess! Mr. Gavin, I'll see you in my chambers during this time!"

"Certainly, Your Honor," Kristoph retorted stiffly.

"Very well!" The judge affirmed. "The trial will resume in twenty minutes!"

* * *

**_Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice_** _  
District Court_  
 _Defendant Lobby No. 3_  
April 20, 2026, 11:52 AM

During the recess, Apollo was beyond pumped. After all in his _first-ever_ courtroom debut, he had not only managed to cast doubt on the prosecution's chain of events, but he instinctively knew he was close to uncovering _the actual truth!_

His enthusiasm took a backseat, however, as he then proceeded to curiously observe his mentor and defendant exchange words.

For _some incomprehensible reason_ , Mr. Gavin did _not_ seem nearly as pleased with the whole affair as his apprentice was!

Kristoph decided his best course of action to ensure his survival was to play completely dumb with his rival and have a short but sweet discussion with the man who was stumbling dangerously close to his well-guarded secret.

"That was quite…unexpected, Mr. Wright," he ventured coolly, plastered phony smile set into place as he approached Phoenix. "To suddenly claim there was another person at the scene of the crime like that…I must ask…is it the truth?" He touched his glasses menacingly, an innocent but threatening gesture. He was most displeased that this time there was not even a remote flicker of unease in the dark blue depths that peered back at him impassively.

The card shark was completely unfazed as he stared down his archenemy. This bastard had ruined his life enough already, and the time had finally come for the tables to be turned. He'd already lost everything because of the fiend standing before him, and there was absolutely nothing else Kristoph Gavin could do to him now.

"Well now," he said with quiet intensity, meeting the other man's unwavering gaze steadily. "I'd think _you_ would know the answer to that?"

"Ah, being _mysterious_ are we?" Kristoph shook his head with mock dismay. "Sadly, I've no time for mysteries. I'd only ask that you leave the _defending_ to your _defense_ , in the future. Otherwise…I cannot _guarantee the outcome_."

Once again, if Phoenix had _gotten the picture_ , as intended by the _heavily laden words_ the defense attorney had just uttered, his expression belied no indication of such.

"I see you haven't mellowed out one bit, Kristoph," he chuckled, then turned his head away to adjust his beanie, as though the other man weren't even worth setting his eyes upon for another moment!

Thoroughly miffed at being dismissed in such a callous manner – hell, forget _miffed_ , Kristoph was just flat out _pissed_ now! – He abruptly turned towards his protégé, who had been eyeing the exchange between the two men with an expression of complete befuddlement on his weather-vane face.

"Justice," he said curtly.

"Y-Yes, sir!" Apollo stammered.

"The judge has summoned me to my chambers, so carry on without me." With a final nod at his assistant and without even another glance in Phoenix's direction, Kristoph strode off towards the judge's chambers, leaving the two men alone in the lobby.

Apollo was still weirded out by the bizarre conversation he had been privy to unintentionally eavesdrop on and was completely at a loss for words about what to say to his longtime hero. Mr. Gavin had told him that he and Mr. Wright were good friends… But based on what _he'd_ witnessed just now, it was _glaringly evident_ the two men couldn't _stand each other_! What the heck was going on here?!

The former legal legend was the first one to break the awkward silence and gave the young man an affable grin.

"You did well, Apollo."

"Thanks…" He smiled back uncertainly. "Um... Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Phoenix replied easily.

"That locket you wear..." Apollo looked away, trying to find the right words for what he was about to ask, and ultimately just blurted out the question that had been plaguing his mind. "Is that _really yours,_ Mr. Wright?"

_I truly do like this young man_ , Phoenix mused as he studied the defense attorney's earnest expression, which reminded him more and more of Trucy's the more he looked at him. The resemblance between the two half-siblings was quite astonishing, at least to him. _The kid_ c _uts right to the chase and has no guile whatsoever. Completely trustworthy. However, that still doesn't mean I'm about to lay all my cards on the table for him… **Just yet**_ **.**

"Ah, you're wondering about the victim's disappearing locket?" He inquired mildly. "Here, you can take a look at it. That's a picture of my daughter in there."

"I'm... just surprised to hear you _had_ a daughter." Apollo cast a cursory gander at the photo of the sweet-faced moppet in a pink magician's hat inside, then quickly handed it back.

"Most people are," Phoenix replied glibly, although there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Apollo couldn't help but be curious about. "Perhaps you'll meet her one of these days."

Apollo looked startled at the statement, and the DILF couldn't help but snicker to himself. He supposed it would appear strange for a client, who was on trial for murder, to be idly chatting about meeting other members of his family to his defense attorney, as though this was a social setting, considering they were supposed to have a more businesslike relationship. Regardless, he just couldn't help himself! There was something so genuinely endearing about this kid. Apollo possessed an air of such unadulterated vulnerability that it just made you want to _hug him or adopt him_ or something.

"One more question…" Apollo began hesitantly. "The one who cheated that night... Was it _you_?"

The pianist studied the anxious look in those heartfelt hazel eyes and realized two things immediately. First, Apollo Justice _desperately_ wanted the answer to his question to be _no_ … And second, this was undoubtedly the very same boy whose friend had approached Phoenix, in another lifetime, and beseeched him to autograph his law book, citing that it was for his dear friend, _Apollo_ , who _completely idolized him_.

Although Phoenix was touched to know he was held in such high esteem, he was also slightly depressed by it. He _wasn't_ that man anymore, and he no longer deserved such reverence, not from Apollo or _anyone_ , if he _ever_ _really_ _had_. What good could be had for this young man with a promising future to remain clinging to the childhood hero-worshiping of a disgraced ex-attorney?

"What do you think?" He asked quietly, staring directly into those anxious Bambi eyes.

"Huh?" Apollo appeared startled by the response, so Phoenix figured he needed to hammer his point home _just a bit more_.

"You know what happened seven years ago ... What I did," he said flatly, poker face in full effect now. "It's not unreasonable for you to think I might cheat."

_After all, everybody else in the world at the time assumed that was the case, right?_

"I-I _never!"_ Apollo protested vehemently. "Honest! But..."

"Want to know something?" Phoenix decided the time had come to somewhat change topics now. "There's only one game where you can be dealt bad cards all night and still win. Poker."

"Eh...?" Bewildered golden orbs gawked back at him.

"You see, poker is all about reading your opponent. In that way, it's a lot like a court case."

"Poker… is like trial law!?" The rookie's eyes widened as he digested this new information.

"Figure out what your opponent is thinking, and you win."

"Well, yeah, but that's harder than it sounds," Apollo admitted, ruefully acknowledging that he had no poker face whatsoever.

"I think not." The ex-attorney shook his head. "Try as they might to conceal it, _everyone_ reveals their true thoughts in the end. Their body language can become a valuable source of information."

"You're kidding!"

"That witness, for instance, Ms. Orly," the pianist elaborated. "She would touch the back of her neck during certain parts of her testimony. Did you notice?"

"Uh...No." The younger man blushed and shook his head.

"Words, habits, twitches...It's all information for the reading," the fake musician advised. " _That's_ the secret to winning."

Apollo simply goggled at him, trying to understand, but failing.

"Someone taught me that once." Phoenix's voice grew uncharacteristically soft then, and he allowed the affection to show in his eyes as he fondly looked upon his daughter's brother. "And now, I pass the secret on to you."

"B-But, I'm _not worthy!"_ Apollo shook his head stubbornly. "I mean, there's _no way_ I'll ever pick up on these ' _signals'_ which you speak of!"

The poker champ barely suppressed a sigh of impatience at the young man's obtuseness. He was honestly amazed that a _Gramarye descendant_ could be _this much_ in the dark about his mystical, otherworldly abilities. How it was that Trucy had clued into her own innate talents by such a young age, yet her much elder sibling had not?

At this point, Phoenix could hardly sit the boy down and tell him just _what_ he was truly capable of! And it wasn't as though Apollo was likely to believe such an outrageous claim from a man that was nothing more than a stranger to him anyway!

No, unfortunately at the moment, all he could do was give Apollo a few, well-placed hints, and keep his fingers crossed that he would figure out the rest, _somehow, someway_ , on his own.

"No. You can do it," he insisted gently, trying to convey as much as he possibly could with his eyes. "You just don't know it yet. _But you_ _will_. Soon."

Glancing down at his wristwatch, Phoenix realized his brief time to converse with his attorney was rapidly drawing to a close, as recess was going to end soon, so he tried to tie up the conversation as neatly as he could.

"Ah, almost forgot, one more thing," he said casually, intending for it to come across as a mere afterthought. "About this case...You should know, I haven't told _the truth_ to _anyone_ yet."

"Whaaaaaaaa –!?" Apollo's jaw dropped as he gaped at Phoenix in a stupefied manner which was nearly identical to Winston Payne's, although with his cute baby face, somehow it was a much more _charming_ , albeit more _amusing_ , look when worn by the red attorney!

"I have my reasons, of course," Phoenix added mysteriously, casting a cursory glance at that impossible-to-miss Gramarye heirloom bracelet the young man wore on his wrist. Apollo's gaze followed his, and he reflexively clapped his hand over the thick bangle. "All shall be revealed."

He affixed the spiky-haired man with a level gaze, hoping to project the sincerity of his words with his expression.

"And Apollo... _I need you_ to be there, defending me." He decided it was time for _one final hint_. "I need your _power."_

"My, um, power?" The words only earned him another blank stare.

Phoenix sighed, more audibly this time. He had said all he possibly could. In all actuality, he'd probably said _too much_. Luckily, or perhaps _not so luckily_ , Apollo _still_ hadn't clued into the underlying message of anything he'd tried to discreetly convey.

"...It's time." A slight upturned curve hovered over the pianist's lips. It was only a slight gesture, one he was no longer unaccustomed to making, but it was still a completely sincere smile which he directed at the somewhat awed-looking attorney. "The real trial begins now. Do your best, Apollo Justice. I _know_ you can do it."


	127. Turnabout Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The best people possess a feeling for justice, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed."

**_Phoenix Wright and Kristoph Gavin_**  
 _District Court, Courtroom No. 2_  
April 20, 2026, 12:14 PM

"Court will now reconvene." The judge pounded his gavel. "Has our witness, Ms. Olga Orly, recovered?"

"Y-Yes, Your Honor!" Mr. Payne was visibly discomposed. "Er, well, she's regained consciousness, anyway..." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

Apollo eyed the prosecutor inquisitively and cast a sideways glance at his mentor, who was once again his normally cool, calm, and collected self, having used his brief time during the recess to compose himself once more. Kristoph was like a stealthy cobra targeting his prey, poised to strike, and ready to take advantage of any oversight Olga made when she got back on the witness stand, to ensure _she_ took the fall for the crime. His very _life_ depended on it!

"Perhaps we can hear her version of the events again?" Kristoph's cadence was steady and even, betraying none of his earlier inner turmoil before the courtroom break.

"That's the thing," Mr. Payne squirmed. "You see, she's quite _fatigued_ , as you can imagine, having _unceremoniously passed out_ the way she did and all… "

"You're looking a bit fatigued yourself, Mr. Payne," the judge observed with concern, as the sweaty-faced older man's face looked more drawn and haggard than usual.

Kristoph couldn't have cared less about the questionable state of either Olga Orly or Winston Payne. As far as he was concerned, if _both_ the witness and prosecution were slightly ill-prepared, or off-kilter, so much the better for him.

"Sadly, fatigue is insufficient grounds for refusing to testify…or prosecute," he stated coldly, infamous ruthlessness fully in play. "The defense would like to request that Ms. Orly take the stand."

"Very well." The judge nodded in agreement. "The witness will take the stand!"

Ms. Orly slunk her way up, shaking like a leaf in a wind storm.

"Perhaps you could repeat your name and profession," Kristoph requested politely.

Olga didn't reply and merely cowered down beneath the witness stand, the uneasy clattering of her domed porcelain bowl only slightly superseded by the chattering of her teeth.

Unmoved, and completely indifferent to Olga's jumpy disposition, ultimately deciding it would be better to take advantage of her frayed nerves, the blond man proceeded to steamroll ahead in his customary aggressive manner.

"Or perhaps you'd rather admit that you're a _poor liar_ and a _poorer **loser**_?" He derided, affixing the terrified-looking woman with his most withering stare.

The scare tactic was the final straw that broke the camel's back, and just what had been needed to get the ball rolling.

Yet nobody, least of all Kristoph Gavin, could have _possibly_ foreseen what came next.

" _L – Loser_?" Olga spluttered in disbelief, gaping at the defense attorney just before something in her expression changed in the next instant.

With sudden dramatic showmanship and a giggle that sounded more _cunning_ than _coy_ , the waitress yanked her woolen outfit off her body with an impressive flourish, revealing a tight-fitting black-and-white dealer's uniform underneath, complete with a red bow tie. Even her hat was gone and a bright red bandana with printed dice took its place. In a blink of an eye, the innocent young woman with soft rosy cheeks was completely gone, and in her place stood a deadly femme fatale, in fully confident, hand on hip pose, coupled with full, scarlet-red lips. Her formally shy, dark eyes were now twinkling with mischief as she gazed out at the courtroom.

Out in the gallery, a completely gobsmacked Dick Gumshoe's eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the dramatic change and turned to Trucy, who looked as astounded as he felt.

"In all my years of being a cop, I'll be the _first_ to admit, while I wasn't always quick on the draw, I _did_ possess some innate sleuthing skills and akin suspicion instincts where there was probable cause when it counted!" Gumshoe exclaimed to the magician. "But _this_ dame here…" He jerked his chin in Olga's direction. "She somehow flew right _past_ my radar! I never saw didn't see that one coming – did _you?!"_

"I knew she was lying before and concealing _something,"_ Trucy admitted, shaking her head. "But no way could I have possibly figured out that she was hiding her _entire identity!_ Don't feel too bad Uncle Gumshoe… _I_ don't have the keen ability to perceive the secret alter egos of people either!"

Kristoph was completely taken aback at the waitress's impromptu transformation, but of course, managed to maintain his outward composure, unlike his protégé.

Apollo, on the other hand, was full-blown, unabashedly, gawking at the now smirking blonde beauty, who was idly playing with a lock of her golden curls, alternating between tugging and winding it around her index finger.

The timid, Russian waitress had entirely been replaced, not only in physical appearance but in _persona_ as well, into that of a professional, slick, pro dealer. The new Olga, " _Quick Fingers_ ," Orly was devoid of any accent, as well as supremely cocky and confident; she seemed almost _boastful_ of the cheating scam she'd pulled with the victim.

She explained, with utmost confidence, that despite being out-conned by the defendant, which she attributed to nothing more than pure "dumb luck", the plan itself had been one of pure and simple elegance. It was during her explanation about the moment of the crime that Apollo's stupefied expression began to transform into one of deeper comprehension and wariness.

Kristoph cagily shifted his gaze over to his assistant and took note of the fact that the red attorney was now rubbing his wrist, the one which bore his thick, gold bangle. He'd seen the young man do it on numerous occasions at the office, always out of the blue, and seemingly for no reason. The difference was that _this_ time, Apollo seemed fully aware, albeit anxious, of something intangible.

 _"Hold it!"_ The young man bellowed. "Wait…isn't that a little odd?"

"Wh-What's odd!?" Olga demanded, although her suddenly weary eyes belied the belligerence of her tone.

"You searched Mr. Wright, er, _thoroughly_ …and found _nothing_? Which means he _didn't_ cheat … Which means – he had _no reason_ to strike the victim!"

Olga attempted to remain her cool at this obvious contradiction, but continued to agitatedly squirm, her fingers reflexively stroking the back of her neck, as she had been doing during her testimony. Apollo eyed her skeptically.

The horn-fringed lawyer kept pressing the dealer on particular points regarding the moment of the crime. He pressed the witness so excessively, even _Kristoph_ had no inkling where Apollo was going with this! Finally, the red attorney seemed to arrive at his point.

"Ms. Orly…Perhaps you are unaware of this yourself…" Apollo folded his arms across his chest and gave the formerly _timid Russian waitress_ turned _female pirate dressed witness_ a knowing smirk. "Whenever you get to a certain part of your testimony, you touch the back of your neck with your left hand."

Olga's self-assured disposition began to waver. Kristoph was utterly befuddled, a most unfamiliar sensation for him, and not one he particularly liked.

"What indeed, Justice?" The bemusement was evident in Kristoph's voice as he addressed his assistant. " _I_ certainly hadn't noticed anything of the sort."

Apollo flashed his boss what could only be described as a _cocky_ grin, as if to say " _don't worry, I've got this_ ," startling the blond man about exactly where and what this abrupt certitude had stemmed from! Before he could say another word, though, his protégé was already elaborating in a surefire manner.

"When she says that part of the testimony, she's _subconsciously_ recalling something. Her _body_ reacts to the _memory_ , and she touches her neck! I'm _sure_ of it!"

Kristoph's eyes roved around the courtroom, observing the nonplussed expressions of everybody else around him at this impromptu turnabout… Save for _one person._

Phoenix had been idly fiddling with his locket this entire time but seemed to feel the defense attorney's prying gaze upon him at that moment. Lifting his head, he caught Kristoph's stare, and flashed him _the mother_ of all shit-eating grins, which only further proceeded in making his blood boil!

The now enraged blond man turned back to his apprentice, ready to object with regards to his own admitted incomprehension of things when he saw that his underling had already pulled out the picture of the deadly bottle.

"Whenever she talks about the moment of the crime, she touches her neck!" Apollo announced proudly. "And what reminds us more of that moment than this bottle, the murder weapon!"

Olga merely glared back defiantly at him in response.

"But something doesn't fit." The red attorney's trusty thinking finger was back on his forehead. "If you were only the _witness_ to the crime, _why_ would that make _you_ touch your neck like _you're_ in pain? It was _Mr. Smith_ that was hit, not _you!"_

The witness was outright fidgeting now.

Winston Payne looked as lost as last year's Easter egg, although his ludicrous hairdo was nowhere near as comical as the expression on his face!

Phoenix barely swallowed back a chuckle at how the muddled look on Kristoph's face was _every bit as hilarious_ as the prosecutor's! It appeared his little chat with Apollo during the recess had had some effect after all! Evidently, the young man was _at last_ beginning to _subconsciously tap into_ his _inherited powers of perception_!

 _"Objection!"_ Squawked Mr. Payne. "This is a cross-examination, not a cross-wild conjecture! Th-The _habits_ of the witness?! They're completely irrelevant!"

"Justice…I'll admit, I'm a bit confused myself," Kristoph admitted, looking none too pleased with having to admit such a thing. "This is certainly a … _unique_ cross-examination."

"I'll explain later!" Apollo dismissively waved aside his boss's confusion, unwavering brown stare solely focused on Olga. "Just, _trust_ me! Now's our _only_ chance to _break_ her!"

Kristoph gulped as those words sank in. _"Trust me,"_ his protégé had urged him. That was easier _said_ than _done!_ Not because his subordinate was untrustworthy–far from it! In all actuality, the greenhorn's steadfast honesty and dedicated veracity were two of his most admirable traits as a lawyer, and the German had no doubt the little champion of justice would indeed have an unflappable plan which would successfully "break" the witness and uncover the truth.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be "the truth" the blond man had had in mind!

Olga was now noticeably flustered as she shakily claimed to never have lost sight of the defendant that night, but for every falsity that escaped her lips, the _now on a roll_ Apollo Justice was right there to combat it, this time counterattacking her lie by presenting Phoenix's cell phone.

"Ms. Orly!" Apollo's expression was fierce as he pointed his famous courtroom finger at her accusingly. "We have a record here that clearly _contradicts_ what you just said! It states that the police were alerted by a report… from the defendant! And we _know_ that the defendant left the room, climbed the stairs … and made that phone call – _from the first floor of the Borscht Bowl Club!"_

 _"Ack!"_ Olga tightened her grip on the now precariously wobbling dish in her unsteady hand, beginning to visibly sweat drop for the very first time.

 _Damn, this guy's good!_ Phoenix bit back a smile of appreciation, focusing on ensuring his poker face remained intact. _Just how did she manage the impossible feat of keeping an eye on me whilst being unconscious – and when I'd left the premises? That would be a neat trick indeed! I can't wait to hear her try to wriggle her way out of this one!_

 _"So!"_ Apollo thumped his fists on the table. "Explain how you _kept your eyes on the defendant_ …when he _left the room entirely_!"

 _You've got her against the ropes now, Apollo!_ It took all of Phoenix's willpower not to stand up and cheer for the Clarion of Revelations, whom he was most fortunate to have on _his_ side! _Time to go for the big KO!_ The former attorney turned his head to study the face of Kristoph Gavin, gauging the other man's reaction to his employee's shrewdness, and couldn't resist a slight smirk. _In the case of your mentor, a looks like somebody already gave him the ultimate sucker punch – right in the kisser!_

 _"Eeeeeek!"_ Olga screamed in horror, releasing her wobbly grip on her borscht bowl and sending it flying in the air.

The courtroom went to complete and utter chaos at this revelation.

"This is better than any scripted courtroom drama I've ever seen on TV or in the movies!" Gumshoe grinned broadly at Phoenix's daughter. "All that's missing is the popcorn!"

"That Apollo guy is going to make sure that dirty dealer's lies disintegrate like cotton candy in the rain!" Trucy enthused, eyes sparkling as she reached into her magic panties and pulled out a small box of popcorn, grandly presenting it to the Police Chief. "I hope you like extra butter, Uncle Gumshoe!"

Apollo remained as still as a statue, arms crossed resolutely over his chest while he stared down the conquered card dealer, her face now a mask of pleading desperation.

A hush fell across the courtroom.

Then, as Phoenix watched in total amazement, Olga folded like a bad hand of cards, her act of bravado completely vanquished now. She slumped in defeat on the witness stand, her formerly rebellious eyes now bearing a look of resignation.

"Wait!" She whispered pleadingly. "Enough already, _please_! I – I'll talk. I'll tell you the _real truth_ about what happened that night."

Apollo didn't answer but just kept staring at her, less hostile now, but still with grimly determined anticipation.

"The man who picked up a bottle and swung it that night…" Olga swallowed hard. "It – it _wasn't the defendant."_

 _Thank you, Olga_. Phoenix closed his eyes and heaved a sigh of relief. _Thank you for doing the right thing in the end. Although I still can't fathom what took you so long to finally tell the truth, I'm just grateful that you did!_

"Smith grabbed the bottle from next to Wright…" The dealer continued unsteadily. "And he… _he hit me!"_

Olga's lips and body trembled as she recalled her trauma from the events that'd transpired in the hideout, except this time, it was quite obvious it was no longer an act, but the completely genuine, reflexive reactions of a woman who was trying desperately to forget the entire harrowing experience of nearly being bludgeoned to death.

"When I came to…" Her voice broke slightly as she stared out at the court with frightened eyes.

"The victim was already dead…Is that it?" The judge probed gently.

"That's why I couldn't reveal who I really was!" Olga nodded miserably. "If it came out that I was in league with Smith, I'd be a suspect for sure!"

 _So she didn't have a personal vendetta against me,_ Phoenix realized, feeling ridiculously relieved that he had one less enemy out there than he'd originally thought. _She was just trying to save herself from being in the defendant's chair – just like I am right now!_

As though sensing his thoughts, the card dealer suddenly looked up and caught his gaze, and Phoenix saw the genuine remorse on her face, limpid orbs pleading his forgiveness for her treachery. He gave the slightest, surreptitious nod of assent in her direction, and visible tears of relief and gratitude filled her eyes for the reprieve.

Silence hovered over the courtroom like a heavy cloud in the wake of Olga's shocking confession.

Phoenix noticed that Apollo was just quietly studying the witness with an expression of combined sternness and sympathy, while Kristoph looked as though he'd _sucked on a lemon_ , and the sweaty Winston Payne continued his impersonation of being _a soggy hog_!

 _OK, fine! Maybe not a hog,_ the pianist conceded wryly. _But only because he's too spindly to be one! Perhaps more of a drowned rat?!_

"Well…" The Judge's face was thoughtful. "Where does this leave us?"

 _"M-Madness!"_ Bleated Mr. Payne. "Th-This is _madness!_ I'm _dreaming!_ It must have been _me_ who was hit with a bottle and I'm imagining all of this!"

 _At least then you'd have an excuse for that banshee wailing voice of yours!_ Kristoph cringed at the shrillness of the other man's ululation. _My eardrums may never recover!_

 _It wouldn't surprise me if that had been the case!_ Phoenix bit his lip to keep from cracking up. _Nobody would argue against a case of acquired brain damage in your case, Payne!_

Kristoph watched as his case began to crumble like a dry biscuit – and all because of _that boy!_ What was with this newfound … _perceiving gimmick_ he now seemed to possess!? Where had it come from?! With a sinking sensation in his stomach, he instinctively sensed it meant _nothing but_ _doom_ for him! Closing his eyes and shuddering slightly at the notion, his panicked mind frenetically attempted to grope for a way out of this _fresh hell_ he had suddenly found himself in when the judge's voice brought him back to reality.

"It appears our prosecution is at his wit's end, and frankly, I can't blame him! Mr. Gavin, what do _you_ think about this turn of events?"

 _Oh, thank God!_ Kristoph expelled a long breath of relief. _The well-meaning, but ever dimwitted judge appears to have finally given me a way **out** of this mess with this innocuous query!_

Apollo regarded his mentor nervously, cringing at the sudden icy glare and poisonous inflection with which he fired out his response.

"I believe that, as the defense, in this case, we are compelled to call Ms. Orly a _'big, fat, liar'_!"

 _"Wh-Whaaaaat!?"_ Olga wailed plaintively, as Kristoph's reaction was exactly what she had been most dreading. "No! Wait! I – I'm not…"

" _Three_ were in that room the night of the murder," Kristoph went on, relentlessly cutting off the dealer's frantic protests to her innocence. "The defendant, the victim, and _her_ … _And_ she has _a motive."_

"A motive?" Apollo asked blankly.

"Her plot foiled, the witness got into an argument with her client, Mr. Smith!" Kristoph explained exultantly, as though this explained everything. Olga's latest confession was indeed the answer to his prayers. "And the _denouement of that argument_ …was _murder_!"

" _What_!?" Olga broke out into a cold, nervous sweat at the accusation. "I _didn't_ …I'm no killer! _It's a trap_! Someone's trying to frame me!" There were panicked tears in her eyes as she stared beseechingly out at the courtroom, her desperate gaze landing on Phoenix, of all people, as she tried to convey her innocence.

The dealer's expression of genuine fear and helplessness was not lost on Apollo at all, and he frowned as he felt his bracelet once again tightening on his wrist. He now recognized it as the same twinge he had felt in the past whenever he had been skeptical about there being more than met the eye to something he had seen or heard… And with a start, he realized it tended to happen most often around _his_ _mentor_ , and _particularly_ regarding this entire case!

With a sickening sensation filling him, the defense attorney realized his reservations regarding Kristoph Gavin throughout this trial hadn't been for naught. More than anything in the world, Apollo had yearned to have found a mentor – the very man who had given him his first shot at success – whom he could wholly _trust_ , even become the father figure he'd never had. Nevertheless, he now _knew_ , at that exact moment, as surely as he was certain of Olga's innocence of the crime, that his boss had it an entirely _different agenda_ for the trial that day, and that _justice_ was the very last thing on it!

The courtroom was once again clamoring with the confused, excited mutterings of the gallery at this latest development.

"I don't know what to think now," Gumshoe murmured, taking a long sip of the accompanying soda that his niece had also fished out of her magic panties to wash down the popcorn. "I mean, it's one thing to be a _liar_ and a _con artist,_ but quite another to be a _killer_! I think she might be telling the truth this time!"

Trucy's perceptive gaze surveyed Olga's stricken face intently for another moment, before turning to her Uncle.

"She's _not_ lying _this_ time, Uncle Gumshoe," the magician assertively confirmed. " _I can tell_. And she's obviously not _fully a bad person_ for _finally_ telling the truth about my Daddy! I _know_ this woman isn't the murderer!" Her thoughtful eyes landed on the shark-eyed German then, and they narrowed suspiciously. "What I _don't_ know is why _that_ man seems so intent on _making the court believe_ that she _is_!"

The courtroom was still loudly buzzing as the viewers all speculated on the guilt of Olga Orly, when suddenly Phoenix once again reappeared on the witness stand, laughing mirthlessly, while eyeing Kristoph condescendingly, if he were an impoverished panhandler begging him for pity change.

That was when the veteran defense attorney knew he was _proverbially screwed_ in every sense of the word.

However, instead of lowering his head, he raised it high, a stony glare carved into his hate-filled eyes. Fury blurred his sight, but he tightened his jaw and stared with loathing at his arch-nemesis.

_Nein! Fahr zur Hölle sie saukerl!_

The commotion in the room came to halt as Phoenix Wright cut through the defense attorney's rancorous accusations with the actual truth.

"What tangled webs we weave when we practice to deceive," he intoned mysteriously. "So _tangled_ , we _catch_ _ourselves_ in the process."

"M – _Mr. Wright_?!" The judge gaped at him. " _What_ –?"

Phoenix ignored him, his intense eyes now boring holes into Kristoph's as he uttered his next words.

"Such a _hasty conclusion_ ," he admonished, his light tone belying his piercing gaze. "It's not like you… _Kristoph Gavin_."

"What are you saying?" Kristoph countered defensively, his left eye beginning to twitch as his foe then proceeded to emit the very words he had been desperately trying to prevent and dance around all this time.

"Why not consider the _other_ possibility?" Phoenix arched a brow. "That there was _another person_ in the room at the time of the murder?"

Kristoph opened his mouth to refute such a cockamamie theory, but his words died on his lips as he saw his assistant was now leaning forward, fists resolutely perched on the bench before him as he somberly nodded his agreement with his idol's theory.

 _It is becoming more and more glaringly evident that I have lost my loyal assistant as my ally to you in this fight, Phoenix Wright!_ Kristoph's blood was beginning to simmer at his employee's unwitting duplicity _. But I'll be damned if I let you win this battle!_

"A single card was swapped into the victim's hand after the murder," Phoenix pointed out, with what Kristoph considered _maddening calm_. "And the one who swapped the card didn't know _two_ _colors_ of cards were being used. … _A fourth person_."

" _Objection_!" Shrieked Mr. Payne. "Hah, _this_ theory again! Your _"fourth person"_ doesn't _exist_!"

"Indeed." Phoenix was completely unaffected by the prosecutor's rebuttal. " _That's_ why I decided to bring this case… _to court._ You see, _here_ , there's _no escape_ and _no chance_ for _deception_ …The _perfect pla_ ce to catch _the real criminal_."

 _Drop-dead, Phoenix Wright._ Kristoph's hands were clenched into such tight fists, his nails cut into the flesh of his palms, but he was mindless to the pain. To _everything..._ except for the surging rage rapidly building within him. _I knew I should have just killed you when I had the chance!_

"The _r-real criminal_?" The judge echoed incredulously.

"And we're in luck." There was a wicked glint in Phoenix's eye as his gaze shifted back to Kristoph, whose stomach lurched with the pianist's next words. "A clue to the real criminal's identity was _kindly provided for u_ s. And _right at the beginning of the trial,_ no less."

 _Looks like it's time for me to eat my words._ Fear bubbled up in the German's chest, but he refused to let it show. _And I know just which ones that Hurensohn going to throw back in my face too…_

* * *

**_Flashback to the beginning of the trial…_ **

_"It is true that the defendant was engaged in a game of poker with the victim. Yet it was only that: a game in the purest sense," Kristoph announced grandly. "A competition, Your Honor."_

_"A…competition?" Inquired Mr. Payne._

_"Yes." The German nodded. "A test of wits, a silent clash of passions…Only the cards, their backs wreathed in blue flame, know its final outcome."_

**_End Flashback_ **

* * *

Apollo had already begun to mentally put together the pieces of the puzzle from the moment Phoenix had commenced speaking. The foregone conclusion he'd arrived at was not one he had ever dreamed he'd be seeing and was still a tough pill for him to swallow.

Which was _why_ he answered the way he did when the ex-attorney suddenly directed his next question at him.

"Apollo." Phoenix's voice was quiet but unyielding. "Perhaps _you_ know what I'm talking about?"

"Um, no, sorry," Apollo lied, feeling the sweat already forming at his temples as he raised his hand and awkwardly scratched at the top of his skull.

Never before had he felt more ethically and morally conflicted.

_Kristoph is my boss, my mentor! He taught me everything I know! Without him, I would've just been another penniless legal graduate looking for a job as a lawyer, just like half of my classmates still are!_

His heart cried with anguish.

_But I can't ignore the fact that Mr. Gavin was with Mr. Wright that night! He was at that club, and he made the mistake about the color of the cards being blue – aloud – for all the court to hear! I realize now what my bracelet has been trying to hint to me all along, and all my life! It's trying to signify to me when I can't and shouldn't trust somebody! It's telling me what I've known, deep in my heart, ever since this trial began…that I can no longer trust Kristoph Gavin._

He swallowed back the lump forming in his throat _._

_I would give anything in the world right now for things to be different…_

Phoenix observed the visibly discomfited young man with knowing sympathy. He knew Apollo was lying about his ignorance, and a part of him almost felt terrible for what he was about to coerce the attorney to do. The pianist knew exactly how the kid felt – _he_ was certainly no stranger to finding out the inconvenient truth that the person you'd built up in your mind for the longest time was, disappointingly, _not_ the person you'd thought they were.

"Remember what I said," he prodded gently, peering searchingly into those gloomy Bambi eyes. "The fourth person who swapped the cards _made one critical error."_

Right before answering, Apollo risked taking a gander at Kristoph, who'd been glowering at the Phoenix with nothing short of unmistakable hatred, which had now graduated to _sheer, undeniable_ _loathing_. The pianist merely smirked and stared at Apollo expectantly, patiently awaiting his response.

"He or she wasn't considering the color on the back of the cards…" Apollo replied dully, pressing his finger against his forehead to make it look as though he were seriously contemplating the answer he'd known all along.

"Yes," Phoenix nodded. "But _how_ could such an _obvious mistake_ occur? The cards used for the last game were _red_. Yet, there is _one person_ _here_ , in our court…who thought those cards were _blue_." He flashed a small, encouraging smile. " _Well_ , Apollo? Think you can figure out who it was?"

 _Shut your damn mouth, Wright_! The ever-mounting fear was like a constant hammering to Kristoph's head at this point _. Stop trying to sway the boy, damn you!_

"I-It's not _me_ , I _swear_!" Mr. Payne was sweat-dropping profusely, a look of absolute terror on his face, as though he _genuinely_ thought he could be considered a suspect at this point.

"Who is this fourth person!?" The judge pounded his gavel.

"Let's hear what the defense has to say." Phoenix directed his piercing stare at the courtroom. " _Who_ was it? _Who_ thought the cards used in the final game were blue?"

Gumshoe's jaw dropped as the awareness of just _who_ his friend was hinting at sunk in at that moment. Next to him, Trucy gasped and clutched his arm, the answer dawning upon her at the same time.

Apollo took a slow, deep breath for courage, knowing it was too late for him to back down after all he had unearthed thus far. He _knew_ what the _right_ thing was to do, but that _sure as hell_ didn't make him _feel_ any better about it! His steady gaze met Phoenix's at last, allowing his childhood hero to see his resolve, however reluctant.

Kristoph scrutinized his protégé, pathetically attempting to utilize all his telepathic powers of persuasion to sway the young man into giving the incorrect answer. _Never before_ , with _every fiber of his being_ , had he so fervently yearned _for another man's failure_ as much as he did for Apollo Justice's at that very moment.

Apollo cleared his throat and spit out the answer before his nerves got the better of him.

"Kristoph Gavin."

 _A plague on both your houses!_ Kristoph seethed, shutting his eyes for a split second before directing his hateful glare, which he had hitherto reserved for Phoenix, and now affixing it onto his morose assistant. _You'll pay for this treachery, Apollo Justice! Both you and that degenerate hero of yours will rue this day! You can bet your lives on it!_

"As I expected." Phoenix cocked his head and studied the red attorney with undisguised admiration. "Your eyes and ears are as sharp as your hair."

The facetiousness of the compliment notwithstanding, under different circumstances, _any_ sort of praise given to him from the great Phoenix Wright would have been music to Apollo's ears. However, now that the moment had finally come, he was unable to bask in it, as he'd never before felt so numbingly despondent.

"I-I was right?" Apollo asked quietly, although his face conveyed that he was still _desperately hoping_ he'd be told otherwise, despite ruefully acknowledging there was no possible _miraculous contradiction_ that would surface with regards to Kristoph's knowledge of the card backs.

Sensing Apollo's angst, Phoenix gazed at him compassionately for a split second, before turning his attention back at his adversary.

"Well…Kristoph?" He prompted, noting the other man's sudden deathly pallor.

For once, Kristoph was at a loss for words. He knew he was cornered.

"Kristoph Gavin." Phoenix eyed him stonily. " _You_ were the fourth person that night."

Kristoph listened to Phoenix, Apollo, and the judge's voices in succession, with his assistant feebly protesting that it was natural for Kristoph to know what color the backs of the cards were since he had investigated the crime scene photos, and Phoenix coolly refuting the argument by stating the photos had only been black and white, with the actual colors only being known to the parties who had been present that night. Even as the German frantically wracked his mind for a way out, ultimately, he knew that like a wild animal trying to escape his predator, he'd finally been cornered, with no means of escape.

"Mr.…Gavin?" Apollo studied his employer anxiously, observing that the older man looked like he was going to be sick. "Are you alright?"

_Shut your trap, you little two-faced worm! Don't you dare pretend to be concerned about me now, when you're the one who put my bloody head in the noose!_

"Mr.….Gavin?" The judge's eyes were the size of saucers as he regarded the defense attorney, whose previously white face was now making him resemble a doppelgänger for Kermit the Frog! "Mr. Gavin! I-Is something the matter?"

_Only everything! Seven years of plotting and scheming and covering up my tracks, by any means necessary… All of it about to come crashing upon my head because of one overly ambitious, self-righteous little pipsqueak with an inflated and sanctimonious sense of justice, and his accursed, vengeful, fallen idol, who is nowhere near as dumb as he looks!_

The blond man swallowed hard against the wave of nausea building within him before he was able to reply.

"Hm? N-no, nothing. Excuse me, it was just so…sudden," Kristoph murmured demurely before regarding his nemesis, searching that smug countenance for traces of mirth. "Wright. _You_ aren't _seriously_ accusing _me_ …are you?"

Much to Kristoph's great chagrin, however, Phoenix wasn't laughing. He took a very careful, hard look at the blond man and chose his words carefully.

"Oh, Kristoph?" The ex-attorney purred, who, while bearing zero traces of humor on his face, sounded very _much_ like the satisfied cat who had just eaten the cream. "You _know_ even _I'd_ never take a joke _this_ far."

" _Objection_!" Screamed Mr. Payne. "This has gone beyond _ridiculous_ , beyond _dumb_ …This is _insanity_! The _defendant_ accusing his _own defense attorney_ of _murder_?"

_You tell them Cue Ball! I guess Payne hasn't become completely irrelevant to this trial after all! At least someone here has some common sense and knows better than to suspect an upstanding lawyer at the top of his field, of unquestionable character, especially when he's being accused by the likes of a hobo bum lowlife like you, Phoenix Wright!_

"I _assure_ you…" Phoenix flashed an impish grin at the aghast prosecutor. "I'm _quite_ sane."

"But what _possible connection_ could _Mr. Gavin_ have to _the victim_?" Rasped Mr. Payne.

"I wasn't aware that _I_ had a connection to Mr. Smith, either," responded the former Ace Attorney, raising a brow at the completely discombobulated prosecutor.

 _Touché, Arschloch._ Despite his contempt for the other man, Kristoph had to give credit where it was due for that brilliant refutation.

Phoenix went on to present the possibility that Kristoph may have had time to meet with the victim on the night of the murder.

Apollo couldn't take it anymore. He knew that there was only _one_ way to get to the bottom of all this.

"Mr. Wright! The defense would like to request that you testify for the court!" Apollo commanded forcefully, right in his mentor's ear, as was tradition.

 _Would you shut your blathering pie hole, Justice_?! Kristoph gritted his teeth as he glowered at his protégé. _Haven't you done enough already?!_

_"Objection!"_

This time, it wasn't the high-pitched squeal of Winston Payne that reverberated throughout the courtroom. Kristoph Gavin had found his second wind, and there was _no way in hell_ he was going down without a fight!

"The defense would like to do no such thing," he demurred coldly, his countenance unreadable.

Apollo stared, completely appalled, at the man he had once revered more than anyone. Within the blink of an eye, his mentor, whom he'd admired above all else, had suddenly transformed into an _evil, manipulative fiend_ who desperately was trying to _slither off on his belly_ and away from the _hands of justice!_

"Testimonies must relate to the case," Kristoph growled, sparks shooting out of his eyes, first at his apprentice, and then at the smug Phoenix. "How could _anything_ happening _before_ the game of poker be related?"

"I'm not sure I follow, Mr. Gavin." The judge shook his head.

"As I explained before, the defense believes that Ms. Orly…" Kristoph began his previous argument, but for once, the wayward the judge cut him off in his tracks.

"Am I to assume you speak for Mr. Justice in this?" The old man asked brusquely. "After all, _he_ is the defense, not _you_."

The humiliating truth behind the bluntly stated words was nearly his undoing. Kristoph felt bile rising in his throat. It was true… He was merely the _co-counsel._ It was _Apollo_ who was the actual _lead defense_ in this case. That _no good, degenerate, Phoenix Wright,_ had made _sure_ of that!

 _Do the right thing, Apollo Justice!_ Kristoph felt the room around him beginning to spin. _After everything I've done for you, you couldn't possibly betray me even more than you already have, surely?! Have I taught you  
nothing about loyalty in all my teachings?!_

"Mr. Justice." The somber dark eyes behind the bench rested squarely on the nerve-rattled Apollo. "The matter of Mr. Wright's testimony is up to you. Does the court, in your opinion, need to hear Mr. Wright's testimony?"

Apollo squeezed his eyes shut against Kristoph's imploring gaze as he reflected on everything he had gone through in his life to have finally arrived here. From the time he had first turned to law because of his admiration for Phoenix Wright, to the day that he had set foot in the Gavin Law Offices as an employee, he realized his fate had been predetermined.

As the red attorney struggled with the biggest inner dilemma of his entire young life, his thoughts briefly drifted over to his best friend. There was a song that Clay had always played for him whenever he had been struggling through life and particularly during law school, and had threatened to just give up at times when it seemed like things were getting too tough.

* * *

**_Well, I won't back down  
No, I won't back down  
You can stand me up at the gates of hell  
But I won't back down_ **

* * *

**_No, I'll stand my ground, won't be turned around  
And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down  
Gonna stand my ground and I won't back down_ **

* * *

**_(I won't back down)  
Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out  
(I won't back down)  
Hey, I will stand my ground and I won't back down_ **

* * *

**_Well, I know what's right, I got just one life  
In a world that keeps on pushin' me around  
But I'll stand my ground and I won't back down_ **

* * *

He couldn't, _wouldn't_ back down! Not after everything he'd resolved to do. He _would_ get to _the truth_!

**_This_ ** _was Mr. Wright's strategy! He was **planning** this all along! And I **intend to see it through**!_

Apollo banged his fists down on the defense bench.

"The defense would like to request that Mr. Wright testifies for the court!"

There was a stirring in the gallery at this announcement.

"I gotta give kudos to this kid, for following through the way he did," Gumshoe praised, turning to the quiet magician beside him. "Going against his mentor like that… That couldn't have been an easy thing to do."

 _Now I know why Daddy always looked so uneasy whenever that creepy German came to visit him at the bar!_ Trucy thought, then looked up at her Uncle, her sky-colored orbs filled with indignation.

"Kristoph Gavin is _an evil man_ , and I'm _glad_ his employee turned the tables on him! I _hope_ they _send him up the river_!"

"If _anyone_ can turn this case around, it's your father," Gumshoe assured the fuming teenager, playfully ruffling her silky hair beneath her magician hat. "He doesn't need an attorney's badge to do t _hat,_ mark my words!"

" _Et Tu_ , Justice?" Kristoph whispered shakily, his expression slightly pained as stared at his assistant. " _You_ would betray _me_ , your teacher?" His voice was hoarse as he lowered his cadence and whispered fiercely in the younger man's ear. "Out of the _hundreds of applicants_ to my law firm, _I_ chose to take a chance on _you_! And _this_ is how you repay me?!"

Apollo shook his head sadly, but he didn't even flinch, and his voice never wavered once.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gavin. This isn't about loyalty. This is about the truth!"

_I'll get you for this, Justice!_

"Very well," said the judge. "The defendant…Mr. Wright will take the stand, please."

The DILF was quite composed as he gave his statement.

"That evening, Kristoph and I had dinner. We sat at the table in this photograph. Shadi Smith walked in five minutes after Kristoph left. When the "trap" failed, Smith hit the waitress. The girl was knocked out cold, and Smith was uncontrollable. I had to call the police. When I returned, he was dead, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. That's when I made another phone call…To Defense Attorney Gavin."

"Mr. Gavin!" The judge exclaimed. "This confirms it! You _were_ at the Borscht Bowl Club the night of the murder!"

"I dine with him rather frequently. After all, we were _really good friends_ ," the hobo drawled sardonically, unable to resist adding that slight little dig, and then smiling broadly at the scathing look it earned him from the visibly fuming German.

"A-And he talked to the defendant on the phone directly after the murder!?" Mr. Payne sounded incredulous.

"Quite against my will," Phoenix informed him archly. "After all, it was in a professional, not personal, capacity that I made the phone call, in this case, it was because I had become involved in a murder. I thought I might be in need of a lawyer, so I figured, who better to call than The Coolest Defense in the West?"

Kristoph was sure at this point his teeth would be _worn down to mere_ nubs at _the rate he was grinding them_ , so incensed was he by the former attorney's _continuous sarcastic barbs_ which were _thinly veiled_ as _legitimate testimony_!

"You were planning this all along, weren't you, Wright?" Kristoph hissed. "Just because you wanted to drag me into your little murder trial…"

"The only thing I want…is _the truth_." Unlike the defense attorney's, the beanie wearer's voice was calm and level. "As I did _back then_ … _and now."_

_You're a dead man, Wright._

"I thought my office was doing you a favor when we took on your defense," Kristoph retorted menacingly. "It appears that I was wrong."

 _Get used to it_. Phoenix shrugged apathetically at the words. _You can't be right all the time._

"Very well." The judge pounded his gavel. "The defense may cross-examine the witness."

" _Justice_!" Kristoph snapped

"S-Sir!" Apollo replied nervously.

" _He's_ lying, and _you're_ going to expose him," the blond man ordered.

"Uh…Understood, sir."

 _Mr. Gavin vs. Mr. Wright...This can't end well!_ Apollo groaned inwardly. _Why couldn't I have a normal trial_ _!? All this talk of exposing everybody… Even a flasher case would be more welcome than this!_

The horn-haired youth decided to press the defendant about the failed trap he spoke of.

"About this failed "trap"…This is the same "trap" that Ms. Olga Orly mentioned?"

"Yes…" the pianist answered. "A harmless prank, in essence. It was by a quirk of fate that I happened to discover it…"

 _As usual, nothing but pure dumb luck!_ Kristoph muttered darkly to himself. _It brought **you** a lifetime of undeserved success, and it brought **me** a lifetime of misery! You **will** pay for this Phoenix Wright … Even more than you already have! I swear it!_

"A "quirk"…?" Mr. Payne questioned.

"I happened to put my hand in my pocket…and found a card," Phoenix elaborated.

"The card _she_ planted!" Apollo crowed – with way too much enthusiasm for Kristoph's liking.

 _Excellent job of deduction, Captain Obvious!_ The German mentally jeered. _Shall we reward you with a gold star sticker?_

"Yes. I snuck a peek at it and found it was the Five of Hearts." A mystical smile crept over the pianist's visage then. "I had a ' _feeling'_ something might happen, so I disposed of the card…before the game."

 _"Disposed?"_ The judge repeated. "Where!?"

"There was an empty bottle of grape juice I had been drinking right beside me. I threw the card inside the bottle."

"An empty bottle of grape juice…" Mr. Payne echoed, furrowing his brow.

"The murder weapon!?" Apollo yelped.

"Yes. I rolled it up and shoved it in. The colored glass makes it hard to see."

"Hmm…" The judge murmured. "A battle of wits between the deceiver and the would-be deceived! That sounds like terrific drama…"

" _I'll_ say!" Agreed Gumshoe, out in the gallery, now munching on some licorice sticks that Trucy had provided. "This kid is something else! Today's courtroom drama could be called _'Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney!'_ What do you think, kiddo?"

"Hmmm…" Trucy thoughtfully mulled this over as she bit off both ends of her Twizzler and popped it into her soda can, using it as a makeshift straw. "I would think given the card angle, a more likely title should be ' _Turnabout Trump,'_ Uncle Gumshoe."

The judge pounded his gavel.

"Mr. Wright! The _"Poker Head of Courtroom No. 3"_ approves of this battle of wits!" The old man's merry eyes were twinkling now as he smiled down at his one-time favorite defense lawyer. "Please revise your testimony with this new information."

"Sure thing, Your Honor." The card shark flashed the judge an impish grin, then continued with the revised testimony. "I discovered the "trap" during the game _and disposed of the card in the bottle_. The girl was knocked out cold, and Smith was uncontrollable. I had to call the police. When I returned, he was dead, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead."

 _"Objection!"_ Yelled Apollo. "Mr. Wright… if I may?"

"Yes?" Phoenix blinked innocently.

"Take a look at this photograph of the crime scene." The red attorney gestured to the item in his hand. "See the victim here? He's _wearing a_ _hat_. …"

His voice trailed off, and his cheeks began to grow warm as Phoenix continued to regard the red attorney with a trace of a smile playing over his lips as if to say…. _"Go on…?"_

"Um…" Apollo felt his forehead beginning to perspire slightly and grow clammy as he awkwardly scratched the top of his head. "So… _I wouldn't think you could see blood on his forehead?"_

 _Good job! Maybe there'll be redemption for you yet, Justice!_ Kristoph crowed silently. _Go and do a complete turnabout against the former King of the Turnabout and shove all his sordid, filthy lies right back down his permanently bluffing throat!_

 _Oh dear,_ Phoenix thought worriedly, noticing how unsure of himself Apollo appeared to be now that he'd potentially put his mentor's neck on the line. _I've **got** to help him get that newfound confidence restored if he's going to help me ensure that justice is served today!_

"Good point," he responded neutrally while making sure he still treated the young man to a small, but reassuring smile, which he hoped conveyed the message: _relax, you're fine!_

"Justice!" The German snapped peevishly. "Next time you point out an inconsistency, put a little more "oomph" into it!"

 _Of course, seeing as how the poor greenhorn has an egotistical megalomaniac as his boss, who basks in receiving the praise of others, while reluctant to bestow anything of the sort himself, yet is quick to dish out criticisms_ …Phoenix let out a silent sigh. _I may have my work cut out for me here ensuring that the young Mr. Justice still has any self-confidence left, since it's pretty evident that Kristoph Gavin is out for both his blood, along with mine!_

"Mr. Wright, can you explain this to the court?" The judge no longer looked tickled by this contradiction.

"Ah…I forgot to mention something," Phoenix said casually. " _I_ was the one who _put that hat on his head_."

Taking a page from Winston Payne's book, this time Apollo's shocked chin hit his chest the floor upon hearing this statement, at the _exact_ same time as the prosecutor's jaw did the same thing!

" _You_ put the hat on _the dead man's head?"_ The judge's voice was nearly unrecognizable, as it'd gotten so high pitched with incredulity.

"He wore it the entire poker game. After calling the police, when I returned to the scene, his head was in full view. Shining bright…Just like in this photograph."

"And…?" The judge prompted as the defendant paused in his statement then.

"I picked the hat up off the floor and put it on his head," the poker champ informed them, with almost deliberate insouciance, as though tampering with a crime scene was only a minor misdemeanor.

"Wh-Wh-Why'd you do a thing like that!?" Shrieked the flabbergasted Mr. Payne, who Kristoph had determined at this point had decided that if he couldn't go with _reason_ , he would just go with _volume_ _!_

"All I can say is … I'm sorry." Phoenix's visage was sincere enough, despite the flippancy of his tone. "But that's _the only thing_ I touched at the crime scene."

"So…Ms. Orly didn't see it?" Apollo probed. " _It_ being the victim's ….er, his head."

"I'd think not. She was out cold. I believe I was the only one who witnessed his head."

"Ah, here we go again…" Kristoph heaved a melodramatic sigh and shook his head in mock despair.

"Mr. Gavin?" The youth asked hesitantly.

"Ahem," the blond man cleared his throat, ignoring the quizzical look on his assistant's face. "Pardon. It just seems that our _"client"_ is determined to _lie_ his way through this case."

 _What the heck is going on here?!_ Apollo was completely flummoxed. _H –he's **still** our client! **Isn't** he?!_

"Hmm…" The judge furrowed his brow as he pounded his gavel. "In any case, please continue the cross-examination. I'm afraid decisive contradictions call for decisive evidence."

"Push him harder, Justice!" The blond man barked, trying to ensure that it came across as more of a command than a cry of desperation. " _Break him_! It's just _you and the witness_ in the ring. _Go for the KO_!"

 _Ugh._ Apollo felt his horns beginning to droop at this latest conflicting order. **_Why_** _do I get the feeling we're not on our client's side anymore?! Time for me to begin the cross-examination… This is not going to be pleasant._

The red attorney pressed his client on the disposal of Olga's planted card in the glass bottle.

"I've examined the bottle." Apollo nervously scratched his head, indicating he was uncomfortable with this confrontation. "And I don't see any card in here."

"Hmm? No?" The defendant didn't seem at all fazed.

"Mr. Wright!?" The judge exclaimed dubiously. "Surely _that isn't **all**_ you have to say for yourself!?"

"I can't say that I know what happened to that card." Phoenix still didn't seem overly concerned about this particular discrepancy. "I _did_ put it in that bottle, however."

His client's blasé attitude was starting to become unnerving, rendering Apollo entirely speechless for the moment as he pondered how _any_ man could appear to be _this nonchalant_ when he was _still_ facing _first-degree murder charges_ , and consequently, _death row_!

"Perhaps a _fifth_ person came and took it out?" Kristoph scoffed, curling his lip with disdain. "Oh, and a _sixth_ person could've helped?"

 _You're such a douchebag, Kristoph!_ Phoenix thought cheerfully, as delightfully colorful visions of strangling the German with his own tie briefly danced through his mind. _I am going to enjoy frying you way more than I ever could have dreamed!_

"Mr. Gavin!" The judge looked scandalized by the defense attorney's mockery. "Mr. Wright is _your client!"_

"…My apologies, Your Honor," Kristoph forced himself to sound repentant. "I have no idea what came over me just now."

"I won't have you disparaging _our_ investigation, either!" Mr. Payne scowled at Phoenix. "We _looked_ inside that bottle! And _there was nothing_!"

 _Please, tell me that I can at least trust you, Mr. Wright, since my own boss is now questionable!_ Apollo pleadingly eyed his poker-faced client, desperately trying to read any sort of emotions that were lying beneath the stoic surface. _Are you hoodwinking us yet again…? Or did the card just somehow…disappear?!_

"I believe that's enough of that." There was a blast of Arctic in his employer's cadence.

"Um, Mr. Gavin?" Apollo's head jerked up, completely startled by his boss's tone, but Kristoph ignored him and continued on his warpath.

"This witness's ' _testimony_ ' is more like a ' _travesty'._ It's riddled with lies." The hobo didn't even blink at this onslaught, so the German pettily opted to throw in some more venom for good measure. "I'm beginning to see how you came to lose your attorney's badge seven years ago!"

 _You crafty, insidious, son of a bitch!_ Buried deep within the sweatshirt pockets, the card shark's hands clenched into enraged fists as the sole indication that the hateful man's words had had any effect. His poker-face was fully in place as he responded to his nemesis in an unreadable, neutral cadence.

 _"Well."_ Phoenix slowly raised his head and affixed the defense attorney with a wicked grin. "You _certainly_ have _a unique way_ of treating your _clients_ , Kristoph! I _never knew_."

"I believe it was _you_ who threw _the first stone_ …?" The blond retorted, a biting edge forming in his tone.

Apollo wisely chose this exact moment to intervene in what was sure to become a heated argument by loudly thumping his fists on the defense bench, then turning his pleading Bambi eyes towards his idol.

"Mr. Wright! If you intend to ever tell the truth about this case, it's _now or never_ …!"

"Don't be misled…" the former blue attorney replied evenly. "I haven't told _a single lie here_. When I noticed the "trap"…I put the card in the bottle to dispose of it. And when I put the hat on the victim's head…Let's just say I had _a reason_ for doing that as well."

"A…reason?" The judge echoed.

"That reason…is right here." Phoenix whipped out his self-proclaimed "dumb phone."

"Your … _cell phone_?" Apollo gasped.

"That night…Recall that I spoke with Defense Attorney Gavin after calling the police. Just in case, I recorded our conversation."

"What's this…?" The alarm began to creep in Kristoph's voice once more.

"Now that we're all here, I see no reason why I shouldn't play it back for the court." Phoenix proceeded to play the recording for the courtroom right there and then.

* * *

_"Hello?"_

_"Kristoph. I seem to be in a bit of trouble," Phoenix said quickly. "Right after you left, at the eleventh hour, I partook in a card game from a spontaneous, out of the blue challenger."_

_"What's this?" Kristoph inquired mildly. "Game not going well?"_

_"Something like that."_

_"That gentleman who challenged you…He turned out to be good?"_

_"He turned out to be dead." Phoenix gulped. "Someone hit him. Hard."_

_"You mean someone cracked that flawless, bone china pate?" The German drawled. "It…wasn't you, was it?"_

_"Me? Please," Phoenix mocked. "The cops should be here any minute. I'm in your hands … Should it come to that."_

* * *

There was a hushed silence over the courtroom as everybody digested what they had just heard.

"That's my Daddy for you!" Out in the gallery, Trucy proudly beamed at Gumshoe. "I've _always_ told him he should always _think like a magician_ and have _an extra trick up his sleeve_!"

"Your father never fails to disappoint!" The Chief chuckled appreciatively.

"Bone china ' _plate'_ …?" Apollo asked blankly.

"A kind of porcelain, very smooth and shiny," Phoenix informed him. "And not ' _plate_ ', but 'pate'. I believe he was referring to _a certain gentleman's balding forehead_."

"Hmm…" Murmured the judge of an _equally_ shiny, bald forehead. "The court appreciates the defendant's  
 _discretion_ in _not_ indicating _my_ forehead."

"No problem, Your Honor." The accused cracked a half-smile in the judge's direction.

"So, after Mr. Gavin ate dinner with you…" Apollo was in his full-blown, index to the forehead discerning mode. "He left the Borscht Bowl Club?"

"Most certainly."

"Then…then _how_ did he _know_?" Apollo demanded. " _When_ did he see this _'bone china pate'_?"

"Yes…" The accused murmured softly, immensely pleased that the bright young man was _finally_ catching on. " _That_ was when I began to see my _good friend_ in _a different light_."

The rage building within Kristoph felt like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off him like ferocious waves as the despised man continued to speak.

"Troubled, I returned to the crime scene," Phoenix continued. "And when I spotted Mr. Smith's head again, I knew exactly what was wrong."

The pianist ceased speaking then and jutted his chin so that there was no mistaking the full-blown accusation in his dark blue eyes as he stared unwaveringly at the veteran defense attorney.

"Well, Mr. Gavin. The stage has been set. Perhaps _you_ would like to explain this to the court? Exactly _how_ did you come by your privileged knowledge of the victim's head?"

"So, _this_ is your ' _reason'_ , isn't it?" Kristoph's voice was nearly unrecognizable to his own ears at this point, as it had grown so high-pitched, it would've nearly put _Winston Payne's_ to shame. "The reason _why_ you put the victim's hat back on."

"Your _point_ , Mr. Gavin?" The ennui in the spiky-haired man's voice was hard to miss. "Care to call _a spade a spade?"_

_Oh you're just a punny Scheißkerl when you think you've got the upper hand, aren't you?_

"It's come down to _this_ , has it … Phoenix Wright?" Kristoph was baring his teeth at this point, uncaring about maintaining his cool any longer.

A loud chorus of excited spectator voices spread like wildfire across the courtroom.

"Can you _believe_ this, pal?!" Gumshoe was completely floored. "It was _him_! Kristoph Gavin's the one who committed the murder!"

"And that horrible man is trying to pin it on my Daddy!" Trucy gasped. "I know Daddy presented that recorded phone call as his secret evidence to prove he wasn't the culprit, but what if it's _not enough proof_ to take the blame off him?! _Then_ what are we going to do?!"

"Order! I will have order!" The judge pounded his gavel. "Mr. Payne!"

"Y-Yes, Your Honor!" Mr. Payne was sweating buckets.

"I believe this court has been left with no other choice…Are you prepared to hear Defense Attorney Gavin's testimony?" The judge demanded.

"Eh?" Mr. Payne was visibly shaken by this latest turn of events. "Ah…Urk? Ahem! Well, as the prosecutor, I…"

"Very well!" The judge pounded his gavel while the flustered prosecutor spluttered unintelligible gibberish. "We'll break for ten minutes. After which Mr. Gavin will take the stand for a cross-examination! Are we all clear on that?"

" _Crystal_ clear, Your Honor," Kristoph managed to utter, grateful for the reprieve because at that minute he felt as though he was going to be violently ill _immediately_.

"This will be the final recess for the day!" The judge declared, slamming his gavel down one last time before recess began at 2:32 PM as he summoned both Phoenix and Kristoph to his chambers.

The minute she heard that gavel come down, Trucy shot out of her seat like a lightning bolt.

"Hey pal, where are you going?" Gumshoe called after her as she raced towards the door, in search of the one person that could help her, who, as luck would have it, she knew would be by themselves right now.

"I'm just running to the bathroom, Uncle Gumshoe!" The magician called over her shoulder. "I'll be back before the recess is over!"

Trucy hated deceiving her beloved Uncle, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she knew there was no way he would approve of her intended actions any more than her father would.

The moment she was out of the Chief's line of sight, the teen made a beeline in the opposite direction from the restrooms and headed straight for the defendant lobby, a steely glint of determination in her eye.

_Someday, I hope you'll find it in your heart to understand, Daddy. I'm only doing this because you mean the world to me._

The time had come. Trucy Wright knew what she needed to do.

* * *

 ** _Apollo Justice and Trucy Wright  
_** _District Court_  
Defendant Lobby No. 3  
April 20, 2026, 2:32 PM

Apollo anxiously paced the lobby floor, uncertain of what to do with himself now that he had been left to his own devices during the brief recess, as both Mr. Wright and Mr. Gavin had been summoned to the judge's chambers.

Today had just been one unexpected shocking twist after another, and he was _still_ reeling from the chain of unanticipated events when suddenly, he felt a pair of eyes on him.

"...May I?" A stranger's voice asked quietly, from just directly behind him.

"Huh? What?" Apollo spun around and came face to face with a girl, oddly dressed in a blue magician cape and top hat. She was very baby-faced, even though she appeared to be in her teens. He supposed she would've been pretty, had she been smiling. However, her expression was completely somber, doe eyes peering up at him unblinkingly.

Trucy silently studied the young man whom her father had entrusted his life with, noting his open, honest visage as his big brown eyes stared at her in mystification, obviously surprised by her sudden presence. The magician could tell he was a very nice guy, but her perception _also_ told her that while he was indeed _trustworthy_ , he was also still _very_ _new_ to the legal field, and his odds against a sly snake-like Kristoph Gavin would be dicey at best. Her _Daddy_ might fully trust Apollo Justice's lawyer skills, but _she_ could not be so willing to gamble with something as important as her father's life – which was why the red attorney was about to become the latest (unknowing) participant to her own "Plan-B."

"Hello, sir." Trucy plastered on her best, engaging ' _stage'_ smile. "Please, pick a card."

She then proceeded to whip out a handful of playing cards, waving them under the startled lawyer's nose.

 _Wh-What's all this about?_ The girl obviously had zero intention of leaving until he did as she asked, and Apollo only obliged because her unwavering gaze was starting to get to him and his nerves were already shot after the whole courtroom drama!

"Uh... Is this one OK?" Without really looking, he plucked the card closest to him, which seem to be poking out slightly more than the rest of them.

"Excellent. I have a message for you." The puzzling girl's solemn blue eyes peered earnestly into his, as though trying to convey an underlying message beyond just the words she was speaking. "The last hand is about to be played. You'll need _a trump card_ to make it."

"A _trump_ card...?" Apollo was bewildered. It just looked like an ordinary playing card to him.

"The card you have chosen is _magical_." The teen informed him enigmatically, her voice laden with meaning. A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. "Use it wisely, and the game is yours. That's all."

Apollo glanced down at the card in his hand, and his eyes widened as he realized exactly _what_ he was holding.

_The missing fifth ace that Olga was talking about! Wait... This blotch of red ... Is this blood?!_

"You have your trump card. Now it's up to _you_ to cut the deck and draw... _the truth_." The girl's tone suddenly changed from mysterious to earnest, and the pleading on her face was evident as she spoke again. "My father's fate is in _your_ hands. I _know_ you can do it!"

With those being her final parting words, as stealthily as she had appeared, the magician suddenly vanished, as if into thin air, leaving Apollo blinking with surprised confusion in her wake. Their peculiar exchange had been so brief that he would have thought he'd imagined it, had it not been for the telltale card he was still holding in his fingers.

"This _blood-stained card_...is my _trump_ card for finding the truth?" Apollo spoke the words aloud, despite being alone now, while his mind frantically replayed the last words the strange girl had spoken to him.

_"I **know** you can do it!"_

_Why_ was this simple sentence ringing such an inexplicably déjà vu bell in his ears? _When_ had he heard those very words before, spoken with the _same intensity_? And _why_ did that girl look so _familiar_ to him? He was positive he had seen her _somewhere_ before – but _where_?!

Apollo's memory flashed back to the very last words of encouragement Phoenix Wright had bequeathed to him before they'd headed into the courtroom to commence his very first trial.

_"...It's time." A slight upturned curve hovered over the pianist's lips. It was only a slight gesture, one he was no longer unaccustomed to making, but it was still a completely sincere smile which he directed at the somewhat awed-looking attorney. "The real trial begins now. Do your best, Apollo Justice. I **know** you can do it."_

That was when the attorney made the connection.

Same cryptic way of speaking.

Same enigmatic smile.

And lastly, _the exact same_ emphasis on their _selectively chosen,_ but _few spoken_ words, utilized to best get their intended point across.

A slightly amused smile tugged at Apollo Justice's lips.

_Like father, like daughter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers - I Won't Back Down


	128. Tarnished Illusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phoenix
> 
> I cry for my old self  
> mourn my foolish naïveté  
> hold vigil for innocence lost  
> the precious gold of wasted time  
> spent  
> with masked devils  
> who made silent mockery  
> and noisy sport  
> of my essence  
> my sorrow is fuel  
> for righteous anger  
> that flickers,  
> catches  
> then engulfs  
> turning flesh  
> into ashes  
> folly  
> into faded memory  
> misstep  
> into fertile fodder  
> the smoldering earth  
> nurtures  
> a new breed  
> imparts life  
> to a proud golden flower  
> that sprouts  
> flame-tinged wings  
> and takes flight

**_Phoenix Wright and Kristoph Gavin  
_** _District Court  
Courtroom No. 2  
_April 20, 2026, 2:45 PM

"Court will now reconvene." The judge slammed down his gavel. "Defense Attorney Kristoph Gavin, will you please take the stand. Now then, if you would, Mr. Payne?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Your Honor!" Squawked the balbutient, dripping wet with perspiration prosecutor. His eyes settled upon the hubristic German anxiously. "Er, will Mr.…er, the witness, state his name and occupation?"

The turgid defense attorney's countenance was imperturbable, although the recalcitrance was evident in his intonation as his glacial eyes biliously raked the cowering older man.

Phoenix barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his opponent's vile endeavors to appear _minatory_ , even at a time like this, with _his scrawny neck on the line_! Yet that was _exactly_ what Kristoph Gavin was attempting to do! His infamous, overinflated ego was _still_ on _prominently lofty_ display, _despite_ his pendulous position, as he actually tried to come across as _intimidating_ to those who _dared_ be defamatory to his "prominence"!

_Unfortunately, Gavin, thanks to you, **I've** already been **to hell**! I have **personally** danced with the devil in the pale moonlight. Therefore, it will take **more** than the likes of **you** and that pernicious, serpentine glower of yours to get **me** to back down!_

"Is this farce necessary, Your Honor?"

"Believe me, far stranger things have gone on in this courtroom," was the judge's sincere reply, for once demonstrating surprising acumen.

 _He says, without even a trace of intended comedic irony!_ Phoenix snickered to himself. _After all, the magister has witnessed a plethora of escapades, from plain every day to the eldritch **,** within his courtroom, including, but not limited to: **defendant suicide** , **parrot cross-examination** , **demons being exorcised** , and a **roaring, talking carrot successfully impersonating a defense attorney**! By now, the old man could literally be the proud originator of the, "been there, done that" T-shirt!_

"Fine," Kristoph let out a meretricious, long-suffering sigh, as though he were doing them all a huge favor. "I'll play along."

"First, there's _one thing_ we _need_ to have made _clear_." The judge subjected Kristoph to a penetrating stare. "How _did_ you know about the "secret" beneath this man's hat?"

"Forgive my curiosity, but what _is_ it about this fellow's _head_?" Kristoph feigned complete innocence. "Your Honor seems to have an _inordinate interest_ in it."

 _So that's how you want to arrogate being privy to the knowledge of Zak Gramarye being a chrome dome beneath his hat, you wretched shit-weasel?!_ Phoenix's hands clenched into infuriated fists within his pockets. _Just attempt to bloviate your way out of this, in hopes of confusing the kindhearted, but admittedly, dimwitted, old man, who for once, is actually on the ball? I don't think so!_

_"Objection!"_

There was a flabbergasted silence in the courtroom at the irate cry – followed by all present spectator's disorientated series of _simultaneous jaw_ droppings!

In the next instant, right before everyone's _astounded eyes_ , long-ago Ace Attorney Phoenix Wright, _unceremoniously_ took Kristoph Gavin's newly vacated place beside Apollo Justice as the new courtroom defense council. It was quite the sight to behold; despite his casual garb, he still positively _radiated_ that famous confident virtuousness he'd possessed circa his King of the Turnabout glory days.

"I wouldn't call it _inordinate_ , Mr. Gavin." The defendant on the witness stand was treated to a trademarked shit-eating grin by his nemesis. It was quite evident that even after a long absence from it, Phoenix was completely at ease resuming his old position behind the bench.

"Way to go, pal!" Gumshoe's eyes twinkled with admiration at his friend's moxie. "Your father sure has _a steel pair_ _of_ _cojones_ , kiddo! I gotta give him that!"

 _It's as though he'd never left!_ Trucy's heart filled with joy. **_That's_** _where my Daddy belongs!_

"M-Mr. Wright!" The staggered Apollo gawked at his idol.

" _What_ do you think _you're_ doing, Wright?" Kristoph strove hard to appear unaffected that the _defendant_ had now become the _defender_ of his own trial! However, his visibly unsteady fingers, which were sliding his spectacles up his nose, belied his underlying skittishness.

Phoenix ignored the inquiry. His former provoking grin had graduated into a full-blown, _megawatt smile_ , which he now directed at the still gaping red attorney next to him.

"Wow, things sure look different from the _other_ side." He observed with atypical cheerfulness. "You know what I mean, Apollo?"

The stupefied rookie was still confounded to stunned silence at this abrupt turn of events, so with a slight shrug, Phoenix pressed ahead.

"Speaking of " _looking from the other side,_ " let's consider something for a second," he went on merrily. "The victim wore that hat _all_ night, _never_ _once_ taking it off, except for that _one_ time."

"That _one_ time..." Apollo finally found his voice again. "Being the _instant he was hit_!"

 _I am now officially being tried by Sonic the Hedgehog and his sidekick, Tails!_ Kristoph's enraged disbelief was steadily growing. _And it appears that absolutely nobody is going to raise an objection to the fact that only **one** of them legitimately has their **attorney's badge**!_

"When Mr. Wright returned from reporting the crime, the hat was lying on the floor."

Apollo was right back in the swing of things as he consulted his notes. His idol's reassuring presence abreast of him was just the confidence booster he'd needed!

"Mr. Wright picked it up, and placed it on the victim's head … In other words, to have seen Mr. Smith's bald head…you would have had to be _at the scene of the crime_ … at the _time_ _of the crime_!"

"In other words, you'd have to be _the_ _real_ _killer_ …is what you're trying to say," Kristoph remarked mildly, once again pushing his glasses back up his nose, although this time in a more menacing manner.

 _Good for you Kristoph!_ Phoenix's customary smirk now fully back in play. _That correct answer earns you… **A one-way ticket** to the solitary prison cell of your choice!_

"Not bad, Apollo," the pianist commended, beaming at the rookie lawyer. "You're _really_ on top of things now!"

Blushing slightly with pride, Apollo found himself grinning right back as he basked in his hero's praise.

 _How sweet!_ Kristoph sneered. _They're having some sort of **moment**! And obviously, these **Dummkopfs** are thinking that they've gained the upper hand! I almost hate to disappoint them… Or rather, I would if I wasn't about to serve both their heads on a silver platter… right about… NOW!_

Downright flummoxed, Trucy gaped at Gumshoe as the onlookers around them began chattering excitedly at this unexpected upheaval.

"Don't tell me it's all over _already_?" The puzzled magician turned to her Uncle. "Did that horrible man just _confess_?!"

_And did I give Apollo that **magical trump card** all for **nothing**?!_

"I wouldn't bet on it, pal." Gumshoe's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the haughty defense attorney on the stand. "I've seen _way_ too many of these trials, and I've _always_ prepared myself to _expect the unexpected_! There's _no way_ this _nasty piece of work_ here is going to throw in the towel _just yet_! _Trust me_ on this one!"

"Eh heh heh heh…"

Gumshoe's prediction proved to be bang-on as the room was precipitously filled with the sinister cackle of Kristoph Gavin's laughter.

"Mr. Gavin?" The judge studied the presumably disturbed man with concern, undoubtedly wondering how anyone who was now _the new defendant_ on trial for _murder_ was somehow managing to find _anything_ even _marginally humorous_!

"I'm afraid that I haven't been entirely honest with the court," Kristoph confessed with sham sincerity, his unpleasant leer broadening at how taken aback both the judge and Winston Payne were upon hearing this.

_Every evasion of justice begins with a stab in the back. **You** started this Phoenix Wright, whether you know it or not! But I promise you, **I** will **finish** it! Moreover, I will relish twisting the very bloody dagger handle you and my duplicitous assistant tried to thrust betwixt my shoulder blades!_

"Oh, I assure you…" Kristoph's smooth tone took on a note of regret. "I had the _noblest_ of intentions. I did it all to protect my client, Mr. Wright. Yet I'm afraid in the current situation, I see little reason to hide anything. Very well. Allow me to tell you the truth of what happened that night."

" _Finally_!" The judge pounded his gavel. "You may begin your testimony. Tell us…How were you involved in the events of that fateful night?"

"Although we only crossed paths briefly as I was exiting the restaurant, the rage I sensed exuding from the mysterious man that night troubled me…so I returned to the club. I went down to the basement and peeked in through the little window to the Hydeout. It must have been right after the murder took place. The victim was dead, as appeared in the photo. A bald head, an unconscious girl…and _Wright_ , wielding a bottle in his hand. I sensed that was not the best place for me to be at the time, so I left. _That's_ when the call came from Wright."

"So…you _witnessed_ _the murder_!?" Mr. Payne prodded hopefully, obviously wishing this _convoluted mess of a trial_ had taken a simpler turn at last! His innocuous query only earned him a malevolent glare from the new defendant, causing the high-pitched prosecutor to recoil in fright as the spectacled man was _obliged_ to now divulge the _truth_ in _that_ respect!

"For better or worse," Kristoph sighed, as though in regret, and shook his head. "I _confess_ that I _missed_ the _actual moment_ of _the deed_."

"Mr. Gavin." The forlornness of his tone was not lost on the normally obtuse judge, who eyed the defense attorney warily. "May I remind you that _you_ are on _Mr. Wright's defense team_? Your testimony is clearly _disadvantageous_ to your client!"

 _Be still my bleeding heart!_ Kristoph jeered silently. _I have no patience whatsoever for such platitudinous commentary, you foolish old man! The yearning for retribution is like a rat gnawing at my soul, relentless, unceasing. It can only be stopped by the cold steel of a rat trap, a trap, which, thanks to my **Judas** assistant, **I** shall now be forced to devise by myself! No matter…_ **_Selbst ist der Mann!_**

"What else can I say?" He rebutted coolly. " _I'm_ standing on the witness stand, after all."

_You've put up one Hölle of a good fight Phoenix Wright, but my superior battle armor is good and ready! **Das Glück hilft dem Kühnen**! My sword is poised to aim to plunge straight to your heart with no recourse whatsoever! This is the final curtain call of this risible dramatic farce you've made of this trial… And it will be the archetypal fight to the death! One of us **will** leave this courtroom in chains… On the path towards his inevitable demise… Otherwise known as execution!_

"So you _are_ , Mr. Gavin," Phoenix acquiesced, sporting that bumptious beam of his that never failed to raise Kristoph's blood pressure. "Far be it for me to argue with _the obvious_."

The irritatingly self-assertive look on his nemesis's features made a flicker of fear course through Kristoph's bloodstream. Unlike the judge, _Phoenix_ didn't seem at all daunted by his damaging testimony whatsoever! Quite the contrary! The crafty lawyer mentally had his defense shield in place as he braced himself for the oncoming attack, working hard on ensuring his phizog was impassive as the hateful man spoke his next words.

"And you _had_ to testify as you just did." The ex-attorney's smug expression grew more prominent. "You _had_ to tell them you saw the scene of the crime through that little window. You _had to say that_ …because that was the _only_ probable _window of opportunity_."

Apollo stared speechlessly at his new co-counsel, obviously less taken aback by his mentor's damning statement and more so by the staunchness of his idol's.

 _Mr. Wright was **prepared** for this_? The red attorney was floored _. How is that even possible?! What the heck is he up to now? Also… Why do I get the feeling that I'm only here as a figurehead now as far as being the actual defense attorney for this trial?!_

"Right, Apollo?" The hobo pressed, tilting his head and beaming encouragingly at the silent younger man.

Apollo nodded hesitantly, still feeling as _useless as tits on a bull_ at that moment, even as he smiled weakly in response.

The judge appeared to be reading the horn-fringed attorney's mind as he pounded his gavel.

"Mr. Wright," he stated firmly. "The _defense_ should do the cross-examination, _not_ the _defendant_!"

"Apologies, Your Honor!" Phoenix smiled benignly and put his hands submissively behind his back, as if to silently convey, _I'll be a good boy and behave …for **now**!_

The judge nodded and turned back to Apollo.

"Mr. Justice, are you prepared?"

"Yes, Your Honor…" Mumbled Apollo, once again sounding quite unsure of himself. _I still can't **believe** I'm going up **against** Mr. Gavin! This trial keeps getting weirder and weirder…_

 _Of course, Kristoph's going to be a smooth operator on the witness stand!_ The card shark told himself. _He has to be as slippery as an eel if he wants to stand any chance at all! I've just got to fully believe in this kid with everything I've got! I need to trust that he's not only got what it takes to catch a tiger by the toe but that he won't back down, no matter what!_

Phoenix was not disappointed. Indeed, Apollo did _not_ back down, whatsoever. He pressed everything, not pulling any punches during the cross-examination, just as Kristoph had taught him on so many previous occasions. Conversely, Kristoph didn't back down either. He was determined to remain unflappably cool and collected until the bitter end.

The spiky-banged lawyer decided to press on Kristoph's inventory of the parties he'd witnessed being present that night: _A bald head, an unconscious girl…and Wright, holding a bottle in his hand._

" _Hold it_!" Apollo's thinking index was pressed against his forehead as he mulled over that statement. "Those were the _only three_ at the scene of the crime?"

"Yes," Kristoph replied simply. "As far as _I_ saw, at least."

"This means we're _back where we started_!" Mr. Payne was more than happy to seize this answer with gusto. "The killer was _the defendant, Phoenix Wright_! _Who else_ could it have been?"

 _You would love nothing more than for this to be all neatly tied up with a bow on top, wouldn't you, Payne?_ The beanie wearer raised his eyebrow at the lackluster prosecutor. _Unfortunately, despite all your years behind the legal bench, you still cannot claim to be a heuristic man in the least! How have you still not learned: no trial that involves me is ever quick and dirty!_

As though somehow sensing the pianist's thoughts, Mr. Payne's mug turned apprehensive and his cadence took on a meek undertone.

"But why didn't you talk to the police?" The prosecutor inquired uncomfortably.

 _I can handle that inquiry no problem!_ Kristoph assumed his most trustworthy exterior. _That's an easy one for a **pro** like myself!_

"Two reasons," the blond man answered smoothly. "First, I didn't actually witness the very moment of the crime. Second, _my office_ was _asked to defend Wright_." He saw Phoenix's eyes narrow then and leered evilly at him. "Even _after_ seeing _what I had seen_ , I couldn't very well abandon my _good friend_ , could I?"

 _You know what they say about revenge._ Beneath his poker-faced veneer, Phoenix forced himself to take deep, even breaths as he was forced to endure his foe's nerve-grating testimony. _I don't just serve it cold **.** I go for **absolute zero**. Zero compassion, zero warning, and zero second chances._

"Hmm…" the judge mused but didn't get a chance to mull any further before Apollo intervened.

"Objection!" The newbie lawyer's accusing finger pointed accusingly at his boss. "There _must_ have been _someone else_ there at the moment of the crime!"

 _You're **next** , Apollo Justice_! A misty crimson vapor clouded Kristoph's vision at this latest turn in his assistant's duplicity. His need for vengeance was like an abscess on both his the skin _and_ soul, and could only be cured by the _cruel, sharp, steel point of revenge_ – and was now directed away from Phoenix and towards his _ex-assistant,_ whom he'd so _grossly underestimated_ when he'd taken him under his wing! _As fond as I have been of you,_ _I have positively no qualms about snuffing out your disloyal, ungrateful behind… immediately after I wipe out that fallen hero of yours first, just to make you suffer all the more!_

" _Justice_." The German forced a tight smile over his gritted teeth. "I _just said_ I saw _no one_. Not _a soul."_

"B-But, that goes against what Mr. Wright said!" Apollo protested stubbornly, obviously taking the word of his idol to be as good as gospel.

 _Keep it up, Justice._ A roaring sensation began flooding the German's ears. _At the rate you're going, I may change my mind and **take care** of **you** first!_

"Ah, yes," Kristoph deadpanned. "This mysterious "fourth person"…who would conveniently be the " _real killer_ ," I suppose."

"Glad to see we agree, Mr. Gavin." A smug smile played on the DILF's lips as he nodded in mendacious agreement, compelling Kristoph to mentally count to ten to calm his rising temper as he hatefully glowered at the other man.

**_Leck mich am Arsch_ ** _, Phoenix Wright!_

"Let me pose a question, then." The periwinkle clad lawyer affixed his adversary with his most withering glare. "Tell me. What possible reason did the "real killer" have to swap cards in the victim's hand?"

The defendant's mien never wavered, although Apollo was slightly flustered by the off-putting query. Kristoph's lips stretched into a vicious smile at the newbie's obvious uneasiness.

"Hmm?" He prompted ruthlessly, his attentions now focused on his discomfited protégé. "Perhaps _you_ can show us _a reason_ why such a thing would be necessary?"

 _How can I show something I can't find myself?!_ The rookie felt panic rising within him, for once getting no security from his hero's attempted reassuring gaze.

"Remember, Apollo," Phoenix reminded him gently. "The card that was swapped out was _the_ _fifth ace…"_

"The fifth ace." Apollo gave a jerky, puppet's nod. " _Right_."

"Well, Mr. Justice?" The judge urged. "The question of why the killer would swap out a card has been raised. Can you point to a reason?"

 _Despite his fulsome efforts, no, the callow little imp cannot, Your Honor!_ You couldn't have wiped off the triumphing sneer from Kristoph's smarmy frontage with a bleach-soaked sponge. _Victory is mine!_

The red attorney's heart was hammering in his ribs. The card the mysterious magician girl had given him during the recess now felt as though it were _searing a hole_ in his pocket. He gulped.

_It's now or never!_

"The defense would like to present evidence to the court…Evidence showing the reason _why_ a card was _swapped out!"_

 ** _So ein Mist!_** Kristoph's Arcadian façade began to crumble at this notion which was bearing _no logical grounds_ whatsoever! _What pile of **Scheisse** is he spewing now?!_

"Then go ahead and point out your reason, Mr. Justice," the judge commanded. " _Why_ did the killer take the fifth ace?"

" _Take that!"_ With a dramatic flourish, Apollo whipped out a card and presented it to the court, his hand trembling slightly.

 _Holy Harry Houdini, good thing I gave that to him in time!_ Out in the gallery, Trucy silently exhaled a sigh of relief. _I **knew** that would come in handy as the **ultimate trump card!**_

 _Hast du ein Wahn oder was?!_ _There is **no way in der Hölle** that can be real, and Justice bloody well knows it!_ Kristoph felt the blood freeze in his veins. He _recognized_ that card alright. Had seen it – and _disposed_ of it – _personally_. But _how_ did his apprentice have in his possession?! It was implausible!

"My reason is…uh… _This_!" Apollo sounded like he was slowly regaining his previous confidence now.

 _What the devil?!_ Phoenix was beyond mystified and blinked twice, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him. **_Where_** _and **when** that Apollo get **that**?! And **why** didn't he mention it to me until now?! That's a fake! The kid is in serious danger! If anybody figures it out, he'll suffer the same fate as I did and I know Apollo doesn't deserve this! Not so early in his career! Not when he's innocent!_

"Is that _an…ace_?" Mr. Payne was as clueless as ever.

"Why…Why it's got _blood_ on it!" The judge's eyes were the size of silver dollars. "Right _next_ to the _spade_!"

 _"Wh-Whaaaat!?"_ The shocking fright was like a knife to the gut, sharply twisting and causing the horrified Kristoph to emit _a bloodcurdling scream_ that rivaled anything that had _ever_ been released from Winston Payne's mouth!

"This is _insane_!" Gasped the DA. " _Why_ wasn't _I_ told about this!? _Why!?"_

"Could…this be…!?" The judge was utterly gobsmacked. "Could _this_ be _the missing fifth ace_!?"

The courtroom was an absolute uproar over this latest evidence.

"I can't _believe_ this!" Gumshoe exclaimed, his startled gaze shifting over to his _suspiciously_ _unsurprised_ niece! "What a twist _this_ is! It's like something out of an M. Night Shyamalan movie!"

"I _know_ , right?" Trucy bequeathed an angelic smile and chose _that very moment_ to conjure a small box from her magic panties, quickly popping candy into her mouth to mask her jubilance. "Care for some chocolate covered almonds, Uncle Gumshoe?"

"Things are enough _nuts_ enough in this courtroom!" The Chief guffawed, already distracted away from the mystery card. "But…do you have any chocolate covered _raisins_?"

" _In-Inconceivable!"_ Kristoph spluttered, nearly foaming at the mouth in his baffled rage. " _How_ could you… _What_ are _you_ doing _with that card!?"_

"Um, well, that's the thing…" Apollo began awkwardly, uncertain of how to answer. He had no idea what his boss was getting so distraught about. After all, it was _just_ a _fishy card_ from _some fishy girl_ … _wasn't_ it?

 _Apollo has no idea just what a loaded pistol he's holding!_ _But **I** do_! The revelation came to Phoenix in a flash. His pulse was frenziedly racing as he recollected the tearful conversation he'd had with his hysterical daughter earlier that morning.

* * *

_Flashback_

**_Wright Talent Agency  
_** Earlier that morning

" _You have to think like a magician at times like this Daddy! Do you have some sort of plan- B style **trick** up your sleeve?"_

" ** _Trick?"_** _Phoenix eyed her warily. "I don't know what you're thinking, baby girl, but I'm telling you, right now, that I'm not about to stoop to any sort of **illegalities** to get my name cleared!"_

_The pianist clearly remembered begging his daughter to have faith in him, and not to worry, just as he vividly recalled her response._

" _I can't just leave this to **faith** , Daddy!" Suddenly Trucy's eyes lit up, and Phoenix spotted a calculating expression in them he wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable or familiar with. "If there was no **actual** evidence available to prove that you're not the culprit here, it wouldn't hurt to have a little bit of **insurance** , just to be safe, would it?"_

" _Trucy Wright…" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the gleam in those suddenly determined blue orbs. " **Whatever** it is you're even thinking about planning, I want you to remove that thought from your mind immediately! You already saw what happened to me because of being framed over forged evidence, and you should know better than **anybody** how just as I am incapable of committing murder, I'm **equally as incapable** of resorting to such a treacherous act_, **_the very one_** _which got me disbarred in the first place!"_

_End Flashback_

* * *

_Trucy._ Phoenix sighed and briefly closed his eyes as waves of disappointment at his daughter's blatant disregard of his authority washed over him, which were immediately replaced by an even more overwhelming sense of protectiveness and resolve _. I'll worry about **grounding you into the next century** later for disobeying me in such an outright manner! I know your heart was in the right place, and there's a snowball's chance in Abaddon you'll ever be indicted for this naughty misdeed, baby girl! Not as long as **I** live and breathe!_

"Oh, that card? It's mine," Phoenix lied blithely, in as casual a voice as he could muster. "That is, I picked it up at the Borscht Bowl Club that night after the murder had occurred. I gave it to my daughter. _Cards_ are her _stock and trade_ , after all."

" _Objection_!" What had begun as a mere contortion within his stomach became an inescapable, suffering sensation of being smothered by an icy, invisible hand. The mounting terror, which had been lying dormant, returned full throttle then, eroding both his resolution and sanity. " _N…No! Impossible_! _Unacceptable_! The court can't accept this evidence! It's a _fraud_!"

" _A fraud_?" Phoenix repeated innocently. "How can you be so sure?"

" _Wh…What?"_ Kristoph's cool was 100% annihilated, and he was flat out _snarling_ now.

"I would think the _only_ person who could claim it was _a fraud_ would be the one who took the _real_ card from the crime scene," the pianist commented idly. " _The_ _real killer_!"

The roaring in Kristoph's ears was now _deafening_. His internal fight against the urge to begin shrieking hysterically lasted just long enough to sustain him for the next horror the hobo bum produced for him.

"Allow me to elaborate," Phoenix continued. "What if _this trace of blood_ was _the reason?"_

"The reason for…?" Mr. Payne was already resuming his human WetNap impersonation.

"For the killer to take the card from the scene of the crime." Phoenix was purring like the cat who had _finally_ caught the mouse. "Would _that_ be reason enough?"

"Where are you going with this?" The judge demanded.

Phoenix elucidated about how a trickle of blood had run from the victim's forehead onto the floor at the moment of the crime, and onto one of the cards, his hat having fallen off his head at the moment of impact. The killer, the former attorney asserted, had taken the incriminating card _to hide the blood_.

" _Objection_!" Kristoph barked. His frantic eyes popped open so hard he couldn't have blinked if he'd tried, all the while barely resisting the urge to _flee_ from that courtroom as fast as his legs could carry him! " _R-Regardless_! That evidence is _non-permissible_!"

" _Oh_?" Phoenix flashed a chilling leer that nearly stopped the defense attorney's heart.

"Wright!" Kristoph pleaded, his audible desperation growing more and more evident. " _Regardless_ of how you _wasted the last seven years_ , you _used_ _to be_ a _lawyer_! You _know_ what a _serious crime_ it is to _conceal evidence_!"

"Oh, we can discuss the finer points of our legal system later," Phoenix dismissed cheerfully. "What's important _now_ is that I've _answered your question_."

"Wh-What are you talking about?" Kristoph rasped.

"You wanted to know _why_ the killer would've taken a card from the crime scene," Phoenix shrugged. "And now, I've told you. That _one drop of blood_ would have been _decisive evidence_ , you see."

" _Objection_!" Kristoph was officially caught in his worst nightmare now, one that _no amount_ of _screaming_ could save him from! "Th-This is… _baseless conjectu_ re! _Baseless_!"

" _Objection_!"

The courtroom froze into a tense silence. That cry of rebuttal from the defense bench rang loud and clear in everybody's ears.

But it hadn't come from Apollo.

"Oh, I _assure_ you…" The disbarred legal legend was in full courtroom lawyer mode now as his unyielding finger pointed at Kristoph. "It's _quite_ _based_ indeed!"

At that moment, his opponent emanated such a formidable aura that Kristoph realized, with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, that it didn't matter whether or not Phoenix Wright still had his legal badge. _Old habits died hard_ , and underneath that cheap tracksuit, the man was every bit the infallible Ace Attorney he'd always been.

" _Wh-What!?"_ The new defendant stood there helplessly on the witness stand, nauseous, bug-eyed, and heart racing as his _grossly underestimated_ rival stepped up his tirade.

"It's _amazing_ , really." There was a calculating remorseless in the midnight blue orbs that Kristoph had never dreamed he'd ever see. "How _a single drop of blood_ on _a single card_ can be what leads us to _the truth_. It's quite simple."

He smilingly turned to the quiet rookie lawyer beside him.

"Well, Apollo?"

"Y-Yes!?" The greenhorn stammered, unsure of what to make of any of this.

"Try picturing the scene of the crime in your head," Phoenix commanded.

The former lawyer proceeded to present a diagram to the court, showing the presumed positions of the witness, victim (who'd been found facing the table), and killer, in swivel chairs. There was a cupboard where the killer was believed to be standing. The issue, of course, was that any blood falling from the body should have landed on the table _before_ him, and _not_ on the scattered cards on the floor _behind_ him. It would indicate that at the time of the murder, Shadi Smith had been facing _away_ from the table, yet _mysteriously_ , his chair had been turned around to be _facing_ it again when Phoenix had stumbled across the body.

Winston Payne appeared to be at his wit's end as he weakly argued about why the victim would be turning to face the wall, which was a solid cupboard. The astute Apollo ascertained that for the killer to be standing where the cupboard behind the victim had been, it would've _had to mean that at the moment of the crime, the cupboard wasn't there!_

Kristoph could feel the breath choking in his lungs and leaving his body dry heaving, desperately trying to rid himself away from this _hellacious nightmare_ as the judge then ordered the bailiff to send a team to the crime scene, to ascertain whether or not The Hydeout _was_ in possession of a _moving cupboard_ , as the defense team claimed.

"Oh, Your Honor?" Phoenix added, in a _poisonously sweet voice_ he was undoubtedly emulating from _Kristoph himself._ "There's _one more thing_ your men should search for…"

The flaxen-haired man's jaw clenched in an effort to keep it motionless over his chattering teeth, dropping the jaw to breathe in more oxygen in preparation for what was to come.

What came was Phoenix Wright _happily_ providing _even more rope to hang his foe with._

The beaming pianist gaily requested that the judge also have the investigation team ascertain whether or not a mere observer claiming to be peering into the room from the small _outside window_ would still be able _to see_ what was happening… _If the moving cupboard had been pushed to the side_ and therefore, _obstructing the view from the glass_!

In the meantime, the anterior King of the Turnabout skillfully guided Apollo to examine The Hydeout diagram, asking the greenhorn to identify the contradiction and point it out to the court.

Although visibly shaking with trepidation, Apollo scrupulously went over each and every inch of the evidence, until at last, he forcefully thumped his fists on the bench.

"Um, about this cupboard…Are we all OK with assuming it was moved?"

"Sure," Phoenix replied easily. "Why not?"

"Well, if it was, _something_ really doesn't fit!" Apollo asserted, jabbing his finger against the page. "The cupboard would _completely_ cover up the window to the stairs!"

Comprehension finally dawned on the judge's frontage.

The enraged red veil which had been clouding Kristoph's vision previously was now immediately replaced by frosty darkness. It was accompanied by another tremor of dread washing over him, like bony icicle fingers sending chills up and down his spine. But it wasn't a chill of impassioned hatred this time. It was a chill of overwhelming, undeniable, gut-wrenching... _fear._

"That's right!" Apollo cried. "Someone standing outside wouldn't be able to see in…" The famous courtroom finger was once again pointed right at his mentor. "Someone like… _Mr. Gavin!"_

" _Wh-What!?"_ Kristoph's arms had been folded over his chest defiantly and were now involuntarily clutching at his suit sleeves in a death grip as his guise began to contort with rage. " _What_ did you say?"

"Oh, dear…" Phoenix mocked, affecting concern. "Is the _"Coolest Defense in the West"_ losing his trademarked… cool?"

The enraged hatred was festering within Kristoph like a septic wound, and the only effective antibiotic would be _cold, hard_ _avengement_. He would bear this grudge until he died or took reprisal, _whichever came first!_

"Don't expect me to play along with your little game, Wright," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"It's only a game until _someone gets killed_ , Mr. Gavin," the hobo drawled, mouth twitching in a cunning grimace. "And _someone_ was…while _the window_ to that room _was blocked by a cupboard."_

**_Wärme bringt Leben, Kälte Tod. Bedenke, dass du sterben must_ ** _, Phoenix Wright!_

"So, Mr. Gavin," Phoenix's orbs were fiery with intensity as he again subjected Kristoph to his courtroom pointer finger. "Perhaps you'd like to _explain to the court_ …exactly _where_ did you witness the crime scene from?"

Kristoph remained frozen on the witness stand, at a complete loss for words for the first time in his entire life. Luckily, he was _saved by the bell_ in the form of the meandering courtroom bailiff making an impromptu arrival.

"Excuse me, Your Honor!" The bailiff interrupted.

" _Order_!" The judge yelled, banging his gavel. "This is a court of law and I _will_ _have order_!"

"We…We just now received word from our investigative team at the Borscht Bowl Club," the bailiff announced nervously. "They've examined the cupboard in the Hydeout, Your Honor! It turns out there _is_ a _secret passage_ behind it!"

"Whaaaaat!?" The judge nearly fell off his chair in shock.

"Ah, yes," Phoenix smirked. "I believe I mentioned something of the sort before…"

He went on to explain about the secret passage connected to the restaurant above, and had been used back in the day when underworld bosses would be fleeing from the cops… Just as the killer had.

"In other words…" Apollo affixed his mentor with a steely glare. "The _only_ place our witness could have seen the victim's bald head…was from _inside the Hydeout_! …Well, Mr. Gavin?"

 ** _Der Weg zur Hölle ist mit guten Vorsätzen gepflastert,_** _you little backstabber!_ Kristoph seethed. **_You're_** _a dead man walking too – you just don't **know** it yet!_

"Hmm…" the judge pondered. "Dare I ask what _really_ happened that night?"

"Actually, I think we can probably figure it out ourselves at this point," the horn-haired lad responded. "That night, for whatever reason…Our killer had a date with Mr. Smith. A date with destiny! There he crouched, hidden in the secret passageway behind the cupboard, holding his breath, waiting for just the right moment. Then the chance came…and he took it! Ms. Olga Orly was out cold, struck by Mr. Smith, but _his_ time was _soon to come_. Mr. Wright went upstairs to call the cops, leaving Mr. Smith alone in the Hydeout with the unconscious dealer. Then our killer stepped out from the secret passage and into the Hydeout."

"The victim must have heard the cupboard sliding aside," Phoenix added. "He wheeled around in his chair, looked, and… _thunk_. After the deed was done, the criminal must have seen the blood on the card. He would have, of course, realized that he needed to destroy the evidence. That _single spot of blood_ told the whole story of the crime."

"Too bad he didn't linger any longer in the Hydeout that night!" Apollo gloated. " _If_ he _had_ , he might have noticed _the cards on the floor_ …And the fact that _they were all **red**!"_

There was complete pandemonium in the courtroom as the formerly accusing eyes in the gallery that had been turned on Phoenix Wright as the culprit were now glaring at Kristoph Gavin.

The shamefaced German lowered his head, recoiling at the judgmental stares from the very people that had always gazed upon him with reverence and admiration. He visibly wilted at the sight of their disgusted glares, all conveying they now saw the renowned defense attorney as nothing more than a _loathsome, contemptible_ **_criminal_**.

**_Besser arm in Ehren als reich in Schanden._ ** _I realize this now. Perhaps…this is what Phoenix Wright has always known._

"That's right, Daddy!" Trucy crowed, raising her arms in the air victoriously. " _Once_ an Ace Attorney, _always_ an Ace Attorney!"

"See that, pal?" In the next instant, the magician and Gumshoe simultaneously jumped out of their seats and exchanged a high five. "Your Daddy doesn't _need a lousy badge_ to do a _complete turnabout_ after all!"

"Well." The judge pounded his gavel thrice. "It seems this trial…has taken yet another turn." He shook his head sorrowfully at Kristoph. "I'm truly, truly sorry I had to see this day come, Mr. Gavin."

The alarm had now morphed into panic. It started as thin cellophane, something Kristoph's fingers could pierce breathing holes in. In another minute the panic became a horror, a deluge of ice water surrounding his every limb, creeping higher until it passed his mouth and nose. That's when the full-blown attack became absolute, shutting his body down as fast as punching a biochemical reset button.

"Mr. Gavin…?" Apollo said tentatively, noticing his boss had turned a most _putrid_ shade of _verdant_.

 _What do **you** want, Benedict Arnold?!_ Kristoph was nearly dry heaving at this point as he frenetically wracked his brain for some sort of escape clause.

"Mr. Payne!" The judge snapped.

"Yeeeearrrk!?" Sweat-dropped the prosecutor. "Ahem. Yes, Your Honor?"

"The prosecution will continue its investigation!" Declared the judge. "As for Mr. Phoenix Wright, the defendant, he is hereby cleared of all suspicion!"

Mr. Payne recoiled in shock.

The judge somberly turned to Kristoph.

"Believe me when I say I don't believe this is happening, Mr. Gavin. But I'm afraid circumstances call for me to issue a warrant for your arrest. Immediately."

"Thank heavens it's all over…" Trucy sighed in relief, but Gumshoe seemed troubled.

"I think we may have celebrated _a bit too soon_ , pal." The police Chief's brows knitted with concern as he surveyed the unyielding witness. "That sure _isn't_ the mug of _a defeated man_ I'm seeing over here…"

The big man was not mistaken, as, within the next moment, a loud, indignant cry filled the courtroom.

" _Objection_!" Kristoph shouted wrathfully, having miraculously gotten his second wind as a last-minute plan germinated within his mind. "Oh, no need to _apologize_. I rather _enjoyed_ myself. It's not every day you get to witness a legendary attorney's _dirty tactics_ , firsthand…"

"Your _point_ , Mr. Gavin?" Phoenix was beyond incensed. _Jesus Christ, the tenacious son of a bitch just doesn't know when to quit, **does** he?!_

"Frankly, Your Honor, I'm _shocked!"_ Kristoph desperately attempted to play the outraged dignity card. " _Shocked_ that a person _of your caliber_ would be taken in by such a _low-grade parlor trick_!"

"Erm…Excuse me?" The judge was utterly lost, as was tradition.

**_Angriff ist die beste Verteidigung._ **

"The defendant is "cleared of all suspicion"…?" Kristoph growled, his virtuous façade now vanquished. "This is hardly the time for jokes, Your Honor. Mr. Wright hasn't proven anyone's guilt or innocence here. What he has done is use illegal evidence to pin the blame on someone else! And not just anyone else, but onto _me_ , his _own defense attorney_!"

"Illegal evidence?" The judge echoed vacuously.

 _"Objection!"_ Phoenix interjected. "Let me ask you, Mr. Gavin…Is there still any reason, at present, to suspect me of wrongdoing?"

 _This is my last chance_. Kristoph thought distraughtly. _I still have **one final card** of my own to play…_

"How do you intend to explain away the fingerprints on the murder weapon?" He countered. "And not just _any_ fingerprints. Am I right, Mr. Payne?"

"Er, a-actually, yes," stuttered Mr. Payne. "The fingerprints on the bottle were, erm, upside down."

"The court and this case demand an explanation!" Kristoph ordered. "I can only think of one reason a person would hold a bottle upside-down … And that is to hit someone with the bottom of the bottle. Well?"

"Perhaps the defense would care to enlighten the court?" The judge turned to Apollo. "What evidence do you have to explain why the fingerprints on the bottle are upside-down?"

Kristoph smiled arrogantly to mask his quaking innards, all the while hoping against hope that the rookie would finally choke and splutter like a dying engine on the fumes of defeat at last, but alas, it was for naught.

Once again, he had sorely undervalued what an unstoppable force to be reckoned with the combined team of Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice were together.

With the former attorney's coaxing guidance, Apollo was able to figure out that the reason Phoenix's upside down fingerprints were on that bottle was that the grape juice had been on the floor next to him and that his fingers had naturally picked it up that way when he had lifted it to his lips… By the neck of the bottle! The photo of Phoenix sitting by the piano next to Shadi Smith with the grape juice bottle down by his feet was all the evidence that was required to prove his theory.

It was _then_ that the German realized at that point that you may as well have _stuck a fork in him_ because _he was **done**_!

**_Probieren geht über Studieren._ **

Unfortunately, it seemed his agony would not be over so quickly, as the deplorable fiend that was Phoenix Wright had _yet_ to present the _final nail_ for his _coffin_!

It turned out that the pianist had requested an additional investigation from the judge, not only to check about the secret passage but _also to retrieve the bottles from under the piano_ at the Borscht Bowl Club!

Upon his new defense assistant's prodding, the diligent Apollo examined _one particular bottle_ , and gasped as he pulled out the _proverbial Five of Hearts_ playing card… The _very same card_ Phoenix had found planted on his person by Olga Orly, which he had _disposed of before the game_!

"Didn't I tell you, Apollo, _that bottle_ would _solve this case once and for all_?" The pianist flashed the saucer-eyed newbie a cheeky grin. "The Five of Hearts... _This_ is the card!"

 _The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow so I can breathe, but they won't._ The trepidation began coursing through Kristoph's veins. _My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will blackout. My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin._ _The room spins and I yearn to squat on the floor and try to make everything slow down to something my brain and body can cope with…_

"The bottles _were swapped_." Phoenix's powerful vocalization was more strident than even Apollo's Chords of Steel had ever allowed him to be as he dealt the _finishing, victorious thrust_ to his foe. "And the _only_ _one_ who could have done that was _the fourth_ person in the club that night…"

His indigo orbs were burning with _uncontestable loathing_ as he pointed his famous courtroom finger at Kristoph for the final time.

"Was _you_ , Mr. Kristoph Gavin!"

The silence in the courtroom following Phoenix Wright's irrefutable final accusation was _downright deafening._

Trucy hadn't even realized she been holding her breath up until that point, until she felt Gumshoe softly shake her by the shoulder, forcing her to release the pent-up air in her lungs as she anxiously awaited the outcome of her father's declaration.

In the immediate aftermath, all of Kristoph's unbridled distresses came tumbling out, unchecked by his brain. He was in some kind of mental free-fall, unable to analyze things or assess risk. Phoenix's biting words bounced off him like hard rain, and he was trapped by the former Ace Attorney's cold, unrelenting stare, unblinking and defiant.

_Have a nice **life** … **sentence** , Gavin, you supercilious, conniving, **murdering** rat-bastard!_

There was a distant, faraway haze in Kristoph's eyes as he took a small a few steps backward, bumping slightly into the judge's bench behind the witness stand, as though he hadn't been expecting it. His head rolled with the impact of his enemy's allegation, his icy blue orbs now glazed over. His breathing seemed all wrong as he began to gasp as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

Apollo cast a timorous glance at his employer and felt slightly spooked at what he saw in place of his superior's normally stoical countenance.

Kristoph Gavin's crazed orbs beheld something Apollo had _never fathomed seeing_ on an _actual person_! It was something he's only witnessed in horses' eyes whenever he and Clay had gone to visit his best friend's grandparents on the ranch as youths. It was how the freshly untamed stallions initially were when they were brought in for training; _unhinged_ , _feral_ , downright _wild_ , not even knowing what _people_ were.

 _That identical cornered look…that of a crazed, wild animal …it doesn't belong on his phizog. Or any **human's** face! _Apollo swallowed the remorseful lump in his throat, knowing he had contributed to his boss's untimely downfall. _It both saddens and scares me. Mr. Gavin's always been so cool, calm, and collected. Imperturbable, the one who always knows what to do. Never did I ever imagine the day would come when I would be seeing my mentor helplessly bent over double, hands on his knees, as though struggling to regulate his breathing…._

Kristoph felt his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness. He wanted to run; he needed to freeze. Sounds that he knew were near still felt away, as though he were no longer in the body that remained, standing but unmoving, as if thoroughly paralyzed, on that witness stand.

 ** _How_** _could this happen to **me** of all people?!_ He silently screamed. _Mein Gott…How could I have **possibly** have been foiled by the likes of a complete **Schwachkopf** like Apollo Justice and his equally_ **_Schwachsinniger_** _hero, Phoenix Wright?! **Du hast Hörner auf dem Kopf** , for crying out loud!_

 _I never thought I would ever revel in another man's misery with such unabashed, uncontained **ecstasy**_ , the ex-attorney reflected, unable to control the triumphant smirk curving his lips upward at the defeated, lost deer in headlights look on Kristoph's visage. _Does that make me **a bad guy** in the end? Or does it simply make me **human**?_

"That'll be all, Your Honor," Phoenix concluded, his beam only widening at the hostile, baleful sparks Kristoph's hate-filled orbs were shooting in his direction, incensed cerulean eyes wilder than any sane man's should ever be. "I too, have _enjoyed this dance_ , my _friend_."

That was when Kristoph Gavin completely lost his famous cool, composure, and any and all semblance of control. Like a deranged and primitive caveman, his fists of fury thundered down upon the witness stand as he let out a roar of such ear-splitting rage, it barely seemed _human_.

Apollo, Mr. Payne, and the judge all seemed overwhelmed at the ferocious display, while the peaceful Phoenix remained entirely unaffected, still wearing that shit-eating grin.

After the pugnacious breakdown had subsided, the German's intonation came out, thin and distant.

"Is this your idea of _revenge_ , Phoenix Wright?"

" _Revenge_?" The judge was taken aback.

"Revenge for the events that took away your attorney's badge seven years ago?" Kristoph was trembling with the force of his unconstrained wrath.

 _Was that a confession?_ Phoenix wondered idly, his fingers tightly gripping around his ever-present magatama in his sweatshirt pocket. _Or just purely rhetorical contemplation beneath the raging insanity?_

"My past is like my logic," the ex-attorney replied calmly, watching his antagonist dispassionately. "Straight and true. Nothing's changed. All I did was point the finger of _justice_ in the proper direction." He cracked a sideways grin at the still-shaken Apollo, who could only manage a sickly grin in response.

"Fine." Kristoph smiled tightly. "I'm glad we could have this little tête-à-tête, Wright."

The sinister fiend was so lost in his odious thoughts towards his enemy that the judge's response was distorted, a blur amongst his thoughts as time seemed to slow to a crawl until the old man ordered the defense attorney to be taken out of the courtroom. That was when Kristoph mentally snapped again.

_You are the bane of my existence, Phoenix Wright! **Die großen Fische fressen die kleinen!** This isn't over, you **Kackfass**! Not by a longshot…_

The bailiff dragged Kristoph away, to wait in a separate chamber, and would be given his sentence following the conclusion of the trial. By that point, the depleted man was officially too drained to even bother struggling. He could only stare into the empty space of a future that had never seemed more bleak, hopeless, and desperate. His career, his future, his hopes, and dreams…everything was gone.

**_Man muß die Dinge nehmen, wie sie kommen._ **

All his successes, fears, and ambitions, now belonged to a distant past. He had been drained of all emotion, cold and empty like the darkness of his future prison cell.

 _It's finally over. Justice has been served at last._ Phoenix released a long-waited breath of reprieved liberation and closed his eyes against the stinging sensation behind his lids. _Praise and thanks to the good Lord, it's really, and truly, over._

Back in the gallery, the elated but emotional Trucy had collapsed, sobbing with sheer relief, into Gumshoe's arms while he held her tightly, his own eyes were slightly misty with happy tears for his dear friend as well.

"It's really over, Uncle Gumshoe," the teen whispered, gazing up at him with shining, teary eyes. "My – my Daddy isn't going to be taken away from me!"

"As if that were ever _really_ a concern!" Gumshoe laughed, lightly tapping her on the nose. "Have faith in your old man, will you, kiddo? I bet you two have a lot of celebrating to do tonight's!"

 _Oh, great Merlin's beard!_ Trucy realized in horror as her Uncle's words hit home. _Tonight … Gah! Daddy doesn't even know that I'm here! Well, he might know **now** , since he just took one for the team when it came to **that card** Apollo presented! He's not stupid… I'm sure he figured out where it came from, and that I'm not in school like I'm supposed to be! As much as I hope he'll be so happy about being a free man that he'll forget about the fact that I disobeyed him… Do I **really** want to take that risk?!_

"Um, _sure_ we will, but it'll have to be _after_ I'm done _work!"_ She trilled, pulling out of Gumshoe's arms with a sunny smile. " I'd better head on over _now_ if I don't want to be late!"

" _Uh-huh_ …" The Chief shot her a knowing _look_. "It will be rush-hour now as it's the end of the workday, so how about I give you a lift over to The Wonder Bar as soon as the judge announces his verdict?"

Back in the courtroom, Mr. Payne announced that Kristoph had confessed everything and that additional investigation would need to be done to ascertain "the traveler" Shadi Smith's, true identity as well as his mysterious connection to Kristoph Gavin.

"Very good." The judge turned away from the prosecutor, his dark eyes twinkling as he beamed down at his favorite former defense attorney. "It's been seven years Mr. Wright, but I'm glad to see that you still haven't lost your touch."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Phoenix gave the kindly old man a genuine smile, then chuckled ruefully.

"Kristoph Gavin was a man of _much significance_ to me… both as a _friend_... and a lawyer."

_In more ways than anyone will ever know, and none that I'm choosing to further elaborate on in this courtroom…_

"He was extremely talented, to be sure." The judge lamented sadly. "Such a waste."

" _A waste"…Sure, let's go with that, shall we? It might be too soon for me to start spewing parables such as… **And God's Justice be done** …"_

"I needed two things before I could confront him: the first was a place where no injustice would be tolerated... This courtroom. The second was a man who would tolerate _no injustice_..." Phoenix turned away from the judge then, his gentle eyes falling on the still awestruck greenhorn. "In other words, a defense attorney. _You_ , Apollo."

"Me...?" Apollo blushed adorably at having been singled out by his icon in such a manner.

"A dark time is coming for our legal system," Phoenix intoned mysteriously, his gaze never leaving Apollo's. "A _twisting of justice_ brought on by our very own court system. _We_ _have to set it right."_

"Mr. Wright..." Apollo appeared slightly overwhelmed by all this.

"Our work lies ahead of us..." Phoenix treated his 'sidekick' to his most disarming smile. "And I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Well, this seems as good a time as any to announce my verdict!" The judge announced jovially. "The court finds the defendant, Mr. Phoenix Wright…NOT GUILTY! The court is now adjourned!"

* * *

 ** _Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice_**  
 _District Court,  
Defendant Lobby No. 3_  
April 20, 2026, 4:28 PM

As Phoenix followed him outside into the lobby, he noticed Apollo appeared to be more pensive than celebratory about his very first courtroom victory. He supposed it made sense, considering the poor kid had just watched his mentor be _hauled off in handcuffs_ , and was _partially responsible_ for it, even if _Phoenix himself_ had been the _underlying cause_ of the _whole effect_!

The lawyer's visage was downright _glum_ , and now that they were alone together, at last, the former attorney found himself a loss for words about how to make things better. What _could_ one possibly say to the boy whom he'd essentially _been stalkin_ g since his university days for the last couple of years, and who had _literally_ just _saved his life_?

"Thanks, Apollo," he said sincerely. "You came through, just like I thought you would."

"You're welcome, Mr. Wright." Apollo's cheeks reddened, and he awkwardly scratched his head in that typical endearing fashion. "Ultimately though, I'm pretty sure _I_ didn't _do a thing_ in there! It was _you_ who cornered Mr. Gav… The killer!"

Now it was _Phoenix's_ turn to have flushed cheeks at the offhand remark, a not-so-subtle reminder that he _had_ essentially _monopolized_ almost all of the defense time behind the bench, and essentially just _lawyered by proxy,_ as _he'd_ essentially defended _himself!_

"I couldn't have been for myself," he insisted warmly. "It was _you,_ Apollo. _Your_ innate sense of… _things awry_ , which really sealed the deal in the end. _You_ sensed it today, didn't you? Your _ability?_ "

Apollo just regarded him in confusion, and Phoenix explained, without giving too much away, that the red attorney possessed a sensitivity that even he _himself_ lacked, which he assured the rookie he'd come to understand soon enough.

The greenhorn asked the $64,000 question, which was _why_ Kristoph Gavin would've committed murder, to which Phoenix simply responded that perhaps someday, Apollo would learn the answer to that, and heavily hinted that _his locket_ would be the key to all of it.

"Huh? Oh, that reminds me, I met the girl whose picture is in your locket," Apollo recollected then. "Your... daughter, right?"

 _Dammit!_ Phoenix cursed inwardly. _So it **was** Trucy who gave him that bloody ace card! It's one thing to have suspected as much, but another to have just had it confirmed! That girl is in so much trouble when I get my hands on her! But first, I've got to extensively cover her tracks so her secret elder brother never finds out how deceptively sneaky his well-intentioned little sister can be, and starts to resent her right out of the gate!_

"That's right. She's my daughter," Phoenix responded monotonously, his friendliness vanishing within the next instant. "You know, you were right about this locket." The statement only earned him a blank stare, so he continued with his own self-character assassination. "I took this off his neck the night he died. But it appears like our little swindling "Russian" _devotchka_ saw me."

He shrugged offhandedly as the greenhorn's eyes widened with incredulity.

"So the truth is, this locket really _did_ belong to him."

"Wait! But that's _perjury_!" Apollo gasped in dismay. "You _testified_! You _said_ that locket was _yours_!"

"I said no such thing, actually." Phoenix's full poker face was in effect, sardonic eyebrow arched at the lawyer's aghast expression. "I merely said that it was "a locket" with my daughter's picture inside. A _subtle_ distinction, but a _distinction_ nonetheless. And it's _the truth_."

Apollo's features transformed from bewilderment to one of reluctant admiration, which only frustrated Phoenix even more. He didn't _want_ , nor did he _deserve_ this young man's reverence! Especially not since the whole point of his confession had been to _teach_ Mr. Innocent Wide-Eyed Bambi Eyes _just how easy it was to twist the truth without actually lying_! And you didn't even have to be _a_ _lawyer_ to do it!

The red attorney, of course, wanted to know why the victim would've been wearing a picture of Trucy around his neck, to which Phoenix gamely replied that sometimes the path to the truth wasn't always the best one.

"Give it time," he told him kindly. "It'll come to you eventually. You have a ways to go after all, as you're still just getting started with your career."

"Speaking of which …" The boy's horns drooped dejectedly. "I may be out of a job. I work for Gavin Law Offices, after all. I mean, I _was_ …"

"How about coming to work for me?" Phoenix suggested. He couldn't imagine a better way for Trucy and Apollo to get to know each other better, in hopes that perhaps they would someday _sense_ their shared blood ties, what with their mutual perception abilities.

"Eh!? You mean... at the Wright & Co. Law Offices!?" The youth's eyes lit up like stars. _Wait till I tell Clay about **this**!_ "I mean... there's not a single attorney in my generation that doesn't know it!"

Even though Phoenix was touched by the greenhorn's fervent eagerness, he was also slightly chagrined by it. While he had anticipated some minor gratitude for the offer, he certainly hadn't expected the kid to act as though he'd _won the lottery_ at the concept of working with his _newly law-breaking_ teenage magician daughter, and a _disbarred ex-attorne_ y! Or perhaps Apollo had _forgotten_ about the _latter situation_ with his hasty acceptance?

"I can't imagine _that_ to be true," the former attorney replied humbly. "But… You know that it's not called Wright & Co. Law Offices anymore, right? We're now the Wright Talent Agency. My daughter, as you know, is a magician...and as I testified earlier in court… I'm now just a piano player."

"Wait…" Apollo frowned at this blunt reminder of his current circumstances slightly hosed down his burning enthusiasm. "But didn't you...You're not a..."

"Oh, I turned in my badge, yes." The poker champ succinctly answered the query the Apollo was too polite to ask. "I'm not an attorney anymore."

"Have you ever thought about coming back to the courts?"

"I'm... not qualified to stand in a court of law, I'm afraid." Once again, Phoenix was wholly telling the truth, albeit not one he was going to fully disclose to Apollo, or _anybody_ , just yet.

After all, _how_ could he possibly be an officer of the court again, when not only was his name still unclear of forgery, but he had a daughter with a tendency to sacrifice _legality_ over _legitimacy_? As her sole caregiver, it was _his_ responsibility to get her issues sorted first, so she would be saved, and had a chance for a brighter future before he could focus on his own life and ambitions again.

Plus, at the moment, Trucy was also currently still deeply tangled in the heirloom issues of Troupe Gramarye. He was her father and she needed his protection. The world of the Gramayres was one of intrigue, betrayal, and lies, and one where everyone had no choice but to keep hidden trump cards to prevail. As long as Phoenix was still entangled in this mess, he knew he'd need to resort to trickery and even occasional lies. In that state, not only was it best for Apollo not to trust him, he also wouldn't trust _himself_ in court!

Apollo was eyeing him wearily now, obviously trying to understand what that cryptic sentence meant, so Phoenix determined _a gentle tap_ just wouldn't suffice, and opted to go with _the full sledgehammer_.

"Didn't you notice in today's trial?" Phoenix assumed his best smug countenance, the one that he knew had driven Kristoph Gavin to near madness in the courtroom that day. "There was a single piece of _forged evidence."_

"Forged evidence!?" Apollo paled, seeming as though he were going to be sick. "Wh-What are you talking about!?"

"I'm talking about evidence that shouldn't have existed. A naughty magician's trick." Phoenix didn't even flinch as Apollo presented him with the bloody ace, nodding his confirmation that the attorney had been right to be suspicious about that piece of evidence. "That card couldn't have been found at the crime scene. Why? Because the killer took it with him when he left. Leaving the wrong card in its place... luckily for us."

He dropped his chin then, causing his beanie brimmed to hide his eyes. Even though he'd perfected his indifferent countenance over the years, if the perceptive Apollo were to scrutinize his idol's features, he might get clued into the fact that Phoenix was subjecting him to _the ultimate snow job._

"My verdict was already handed down... seven years ago."

_This is why I don't care what happens to me if they figure it out. I **already** have **one forgery** I didn't commit on my record. Better that have **another one** there than to lose Trucy, or get Apollo into trouble for presenting forged evidence. The kid deserves to know that the evidence was fake, and learned never to just accept evidence from anywhere again without double-checking. This is going to be tough love; a crash course in education, all to protect my daughter while protecting Apollo as well in the process, even though he's going to hate my guts when I'm done. But sometimes, you need to be a bit disillusioned to make the right decisions in life. And better **me** than **his sister**._

"Then... You _really_...?" Apollo whispered faintly, not wanting to believe his ears.

_I need to hammer this home. This kid is never going to find his own style and his own path if he keeps clinging to the illusions of the man I **used** to be. I need him to stop being a Phoenix Wright fanboy and cease viewing both **me** and **this corrupt legal system** of ours, consequently, in any sort of idealistic light. Doing that means I'm going to have to show him **the darkness** first. Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind. This greenhorn is exactly the same kindhearted, naïve champion of justice that **I** used to be, **once upon a time.** He's got what it takes to change things for the better for the legal system – heck, **for the world**! But he's got to learn some valuable, but harsh, life lessons first._

"Yes." A heartless sneer formed on Phoenix's smooth visage and he leaned forward, eyes bearing straight into Apollo's. " ** _I_** _forged this car_ d. One look at the crime scene should've _told you_ it _wasn't real._ "

"But... But you can't do something like that and call yourself an attorney!" The young man was aghast.

"Who's calling themselves an attorney, Apollo?" The fallen attorney taunted, his eyes cold. "Didn't _I just tell you_ that I _turned in_ my _badge_?"

"So it's _true_!" The rookie's welling eyes narrowed as the man he'd once idolized continued to goad him with his smarmy expression, obviously uncaring about the fact that he had just utterly _devastated_ the boy who'd admired him above anything in the whole world. The angry betrayal began hissing through his body like an unfamiliar toxin as his _rose-colored glasses_ regarding the man he'd idolized since his adolescent days finally shattered to smithereens. "The _rumors_ that I kept on _denying_ , and _never wanted to believe_ … are actually _true_!"

"None of that matters much now, does it?" Phoenix cocked an eyebrow while shrugging dismissively. He appeared to be either oblivious or just taciturnly uncaring to the fact that Apollo's eyes were now literally red from withholding his burning tears as his mounting anger finally consumed him, engulfing his morality and destroying the boundaries of his loyalty, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. "What's done is done. No use crying over spilled milk."

" _Nnngh...Grrrraarrrgh!"_ That was the breaking point of Apollo Justice's patience. At that moment, the young man was blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying, as he hauled off and punched his former hero, Phoenix Wright, _right_ in his _lying, unsuspecting, smirking_ **_kisser!_**

The older man barely staggered from the unexpected blow, although a slight red mark was already forming against one tanned, chiseled, stubbly cheekbone.

"It's your story from here on out, Apollo." He tilted his head down, so once again the red attorney could not see his mien, although his cadence was calm and level. "Perhaps I can help you turn the next page..."

Apollo felt beyond miserable, as though he were still about to burst into tears. He'd gotten _no gratification whatsoeve_ r from the fact that he had just _struck another human being_ , the _first_ time he had ever done such a thing in his entire life. And _of all people_ , it'd been _Phoenix Wright_ – the _reason_ he'd become _a lawyer_ in the _first place_! –irrespective that he'd _surely_ _deserved_ it – whom he had just _squarely sucker-punched_ **_in the face_**!

Without warning, the ex-attorney simply _smiled_ then, and handed Apollo his office card, calmly telling him to drop by whenever he wished, if he so chose.

"Mr. Wright..." The young man choked, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I – I –"

_Don't look so sad, Apollo. We are not enemies. We are just hostile to each other because of our different views and opinions for now._

"Oh, about your uppercut... Try yelling, _"Take that!"_ next time. I find it packs a little more _punch_." Phoenix flashed Apollo one final shit-eating grin, revealing he bore zero hard feelings about being _unceremoniously decked_. "And Apollo, thanks for today. I had a good time."

With those as his final parting words, Phoenix turned and left the courthouse, leaving a bewildered, enlightened and heartbroken Apollo Justice in his wake.

_Take care, kid. I'm sure someday, our paths will be destined to cross again._

* * *

****_Phoenix Wright  
_ _Wright Talent Agency  
_ April 20, 2026, 6:00 PM

"Now I _truly_ know the meaning of _hollow, worthless victory_ ," Phoenix dragged his fatigued body into his apartment and sagged down on the sofa on the lower level of the agency. "I just spent the last _hour_ on public transit, during noisy and polluted rush-hour, because Gumshoe, who I thought was going to drive me home, seemed to have _conveniently disappeared_! Therefore, I had the last sixty minutes or so to mull over the fact that I am, if naught else, at least a free man, who was not wrongfully incarcerated, and I should be happy that I helped put the rightful bad guy in jail where he belongs."

He groaned and yanked his beanie down over his eyes in an effort to block out the whole world.

"But at _what cost_ , exactly? How am I any better off than I was seven years ago when I lost my badge? On the _same_ day that I managed to be found not guilty of homicide, I _also_ managed to find out that my loveable, well-meaning daughter is unwittingly _a_ _law-breaking outlaw_ in the making. On top of that, the sweetest, kindest young man I've ever met in my entire life, whom I've unwittingly rendered jobless in my quest for justice, who once thought the world of me, now _despises me_ with _every fiber_ of _his being_! _Good times indeed_!"

"Seven years later, _I_ can see you still have the _same atrocious fashion sense_ **_now_** that you did back **_then_**!" A very familiar voice mocked suddenly, from the above vicinity of the former lawyer's head. "For the record, I can ascertain just _how_ volatile the nature of hatred you have inspired within this young man if that _charming_ _red bruise_ along your jawline is anything to go by! I would also like to state, to soothe your frazzled mind, that Trucy is still a minor, and therefore exempt from being tried as an adult and would probably only get a slap on the wrists for her mystifying misdeeds."

 _Amazement_ didn't quite cover it. The newly exonerated felt as if someone had just taken his long ago _extinguished_ spark of wonder, _reignited_ it, and then _poured on kerosene!_

After having just endured the day from perdition, the sound of that cherished cadence was music to Phoenix's ears. It was like a burst of sunshine forming in his eardrums, as his hat was still covering his eyes when he first heard it so he couldn't immediately see the source.

The exaltedness he displayed on the outside couldn't even come close to adequately reflecting what he felt glimmering within; it was like every neuron of his brain was trying to fire in both directions at once – the best kind of paralysis – which meant it took another second or two for the new information to sink it, even though it was right before his eyes, larger than life, and staring down at him with that _ever-indomitable, trademarked smirk._

"After all this time, you really should rest assured that _I_ would _never_ allow any court in the world to lay a hand on your absolute gem of a daughter." There was a twinkle of amusement in those venerated eyes Phoenix had so desperately missed. "Surely you're not _that_ much of a fool, _are_ you, _Wright?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phoenix Poem by Kisha Solomon  
> ________________________________________  
> Translations (Thanks for your help RoterSchmetterling!)
> 
> Selbst ist der Mann.  
> Translation: If you want a thing done right, do it yourself.
> 
> Leck mich am Arsch  
> Translation: Lick my ass!
> 
> Das Glück hilft dem Kühnen!  
> Translation: Luck helps the audacious.
> 
> So ein Mist!  
> Translation: Such a dung! (lit.) Damn it! (fig.)
> 
> Wärme bringt Leben, Kälte Tod.  
> Translation: Warmth brings life, coldness death.
> 
> Bedenke, dass du sterben musst.  
> Translation: Remember that you are going to die.
> 
> Der Weg zur Hölle ist mit guten Vorsätzen gepflastert  
> Translation: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. (lit.) (correct)  
> (fig.): Even if you have good intentions, it's often not enough to change something for the better.
> 
> Besser arm in Ehren als reich in Schanden.  
> A good name is better than riches
> 
> Angriff ist die beste Verteidigung.  
> Translation: Attack is the best form of defense.
> 
> Probieren geht über Studieren.  
> Translation: (lit) Trying goes over studying.  
> (fig): You have to try something, to see if it really works. Theory alone isn't enough.
> 
> Schwachkopf  
> Translation: dimwit
> 
> Schwachsinniger  
> Translation: feebleminded
> 
> Du hast Hörner auf dem Kopf  
> You have horns on your head!
> 
> Die großen Fische fressen die kleinen!  
> Translation: The big fish eat the little!
> 
> Kackfass  
> Translation: a barrel of shit
> 
> Man muß die Dinge nehmen, wie sie kommen.  
> Translation: One must accept things as they come

**Author's Note:**

> LISTEN UP MUSIC FANS! My kind friend and wonderful FF Wrighter, Flora Alice created a playlist of my mini-musical disguised as a fan fiction, Turnabout Everlasting! Check out the full eclectic list of almost 200 SONGS! 
> 
> BIT.LY/2Jbg91m


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